Children stood silent and occasionally giggling in the line. Few knew what House they'd sort into, just as few teachers knew, looking at them, where they would end up. The broad-shouldered, grinning boy? The quiet, observant brown-haired boy? The pudgy blonde? All roughly the same in the eyes of many.
Personality was a hard thing to gauge just from a glance down their eleven year old ranks. All were essentially harmless -- essentially. But Dumbledore knew better than to believe that entirely. All could be harmless, but there were a few...
"From what family does the little one near the end come?" Flitwick whispered, nudging Dumbledore slightly.
"Snape," Dumbledore murmured to his fellow professor. "He'll sort Slytherin, not Ravenclaw, Filius."
Flitwick eyed him in utter shock for a moment, then laughed, "Well, I suppose someone must sort there. A good guess! We'll soon see how right or wrong you are."
The other wizard nodded, smiling that light, disarming smile -- it still didn't change that he knew. It was a feeling that touched at his mind, intuition united with facts squeezed from gossip. The Snape child had lost both parents in the War when he was very young. They'd died in the service of Voldemort -- the boy, four, had been with a nanny when the Aurors swept into the estate. His aging Ravenclaw grandfather had moved back to the Manor to raise him. But the damage had surely been done, and the boy had already gleaned a particular... mind set. It was tempered by his grandfather's love of books, yet...
Yet Dumbledore knew where he would sort even if the headmaster would draw no such conclusions. And he could only hope that this one didn't slip entirely through the school's weak safeguards.
It was too loud. Not noise -- but silence, a full measure of it. Then, almost startled clapping, from the rows of green-covered tables, when he walked towards them. There was an empty seat near the end, so he slipped there silently. It was hard not to look with utter disdain at his new 'friends', so he let a little of his distaste slip through in his eyes. Unfamiliar faces, every one of them. It was, in fact, the only time he could remember seeing so many children in one place, let alone so close to him. He was supposed to make friends? That was a tiresome thought, one that made him want to go home immediately.
His gaze drifted -- other names were called, more loud cheering from the red tables, but he didn't seem about to be bothered by it. Instead, he looked at the older boy he'd sat down beside, studying him as he would some wild animal.
The young Snape wasn't sure why, but he thought he'd like him.
"So. You're Severus Snape." The blond looked at him, sharp nose lifted slightly, head tilted to the side. "I've heard of you. Your parents used to visit the Manor."
"Oooh," a dark-haired boy said from across the table. "Malfoy's got an interest in one of the new brats."
"Shut it, Lestrange, or you'll wish you had," the blond said idly, sharp grey eyes never once moving from Severus's pale face. An idle hand was held out, gracefully limp. "I'm Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy."
Severus didn't shake that hand, though -- he just continued to look at Lucius with appraising eyes, that looked a twinge sharp for his age. "I haven't any parents." Not that he could remember, at least. Oh, there were faces -- baby sitters, nannies and nurses, and his Grandfather, of course. The old bookworm, who at least had let him read his way through the library. "I'm Severus." At last, he did take that idle hand carefully with his own small, thin, and warm fingers. The severity and calm of the gesture was shattered when a lock of thin hair slithered from the side of his face to his cheekbone, and he blew it off his face.
"It's nice to meet you, Severus." Lucius's own fingers were cool, smooth, and they barely clasped his. "I'm second year. Sadly so's Lestrange, though he's a bit of a prick on occasion."
"Don't make me hurt you, Malfoy."
"Don't make me make you regret that, Lestrange."
Severus slid his hand free of those limp fingers, not because the sensation was odd, but because he wasn't very used to touching someone for longer than a few words. Still, he remained very close to the Malfoy that sat beside him on the bench. "What's it like here?" His voice was soft, low and whispery compared to the cheering that rose up.
Hmn. Just some old, old man standing up to make a speech.
"Very goody goody. They're all into 'doing the right thing' and 'winning fair' and 'working hard'. You know," Lucius drawled. "The Gryffindor way or some sort of ridiculous thing such as that." The declaration brought laughter from most of the Slytherins, none of whom were paying any attention to the man speaking at the front.
Severus among them. He hadn't even glanced to the boy in front of him on the other side of the table -- his pale face was still upturned to look at the second year beside him. Lucius seemed so much older than him! "Grandfather wanted me to sort Ravenclaw -- he'll just have to take this," Severus murmured quietly.
"Your parents were both Slytherin," Lucius assured him. "They were at school with my father. He said they were brilliant, and that you were sure to take after them." Lucius's father had also said that they had been sneaky, and that it was a good idea to make friends with Snape to soon as he arrived if at all possible.
The boy looked innocent, though -- not sneaky at all... Well. It was hard to tell, because he looked so quiet. And he was still all but staring at Lucius -- though when he gave that comment, black eyes narrowed doubtfully. "I am brilliant."
One white-blond brow rose, the pale boy appearing quite amused. "Well, if you're so certain of it, I won't argue."
"Nah," somebody muttered, "Lucius will just show him up like he does all the rest of us."
Severus's gaze finally snapped towards that boy, and he flicked his wand out. It looked almost over-sized in his slender fingers, and the willowy voice of a boy seemed ill-fit for hissing the curse he gave. The third year's mouth puckered and shrunk, and stayed that way.
"There isn't anything to show up," Severus declared softly.
"Just at a guess," Lucius drawled, "I'd say he can hold his own. So sorry about that, Baddock. If you ask nicely, he might even tell you the countercurse. Oh, wait... That's right. You can't ask now, can you? Tch. How sad..."
Lucius's banter finally dragged a smile to Severus's lips, at the very moment food appeared on the tables. Piled high, fancifully decorated, laden all over the table. There was so much... Severus darted a hand out, almost warily, and plucked up a cup-cake from the tray in front of Lucius. "I may undo it if you beg."
"MMMM!!!!" Baddock demanded.
"Nicely, he said," the blond boy chided. He decided right off that he was going to like Severus better than anyone else thus far. Not only was he willing to make enemies, he was smart enough to know a curse that Lucius fully understood as being on a sixth year level and he was only eleven.
Two thoughtful phrases left Severus's lips, as he flicked his wand again. His other hand, far less delicately, was full of cupcake, icing side in. But Baddock's mouth twisted open again, though he looked... stunned.
Severus knew well enough to cover his tracks, too. He didn't linger over the act, as he put his wand back up his sleeve, and took the cupcake in both hands. Too often he ate alone, so his manners, still neat and fastidious, seemed... odd. The palmful of icing wasn't wiped off on a napkin, but licked off.
There wasn't much sense in wasting a good sweet, in his opinion.
Lucius decided that he DEFINITELY liked this brat. He was fully aware of certain things, things that perhaps the average twelve year old hadn't yet considered, and the way that pink tongue darted out, caressed over palm and finger... He smirked, the sight of it visibly twisted. "My. I do believe we will make excellent friends, Snape."
It soared over Severus's head, even if Malfoy only had an inkling of it himself. He scraped the rest of the icing off with his thin fingers, and then started to delicately eat the cake part of it. "I don't really know what that means. I haven't any..." Not the mournfully toned words that Lucius would've expected. Plain, calm, uncaring statement.
Those grey eyes widened, gleamed. "Don't worry," he promised. "You and I, we'll both find out, then."
"Isn't that just fucking sweet," Lestrange muttered, looking warily at Severus. He didn't want to find his mouth all shrunk up like Baddock's!
"You think you're funny because you're being sarcastic. Well, you're not," Severus pointed out, after he'd chewed a few mouthfuls of his cupcake, and picked the excess out of the paper wrapper. His grandfather was always very sparing with sweets, which made Severus want all the more to just gorge himself on them.
Disgruntled, the other boy shook his head. "Well, you're a little smartass, and a know-it-all besides, so it's rather the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?"
A rather thick-looking fellow beside Lucius turned to his friend. "'Ey, Crabbe?" he asked, grabbing at a chicken leg.
"Yeah?"
"Why'd a pot call a kettle black?"
"Dunno," the one named Crabbe said. "Maybe it's 'cause they're kitchen utensils."
Lucius sighed impatiently. "It's because pots and kettles are black," he pointed out, rolling his eyes and then smirking at Severus. "As I'm sure Snape here knows, even if the rest of you lot don't."
Severus gave a nod, and for a moment his gaze drifted over the hall. He wasn't attached to the bickering, and didn't seem to care much over who won. No, he wanted to learn everything he could, everything there was to learn, and to be left alone.... well. Black eyes drifted back to Lucius, and Snape tilted his head back a little again, almost staring once more. Severus decided he'd be all right if the stupid people left him alone.
"Who's the head of our house?"
"Professor Hecate," Lucius said. "She teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said a little slyly, giving a smile that would have fairly well rocked any of the Slytherin girls down to their toes, no matter whether they were twelve or fifteen, and no few amount of members from other houses. "I'll bet you'll like that one. What else do you like?"
"Potions," Severus replied. His eyes glinted a little, and that faint smile on his thin face remained in place. "Grandfather let me help with his research, and it was always very interesting." One bony hand edged near a bowl of candies, but didn't take. Not yet.
Lucius noticed, though. Oh, he noticed. "You like sweet things," he said, tilting his head to the side. "So, sweet things and potions, hm? Well, now I know how to win you over," he whispered so that the others couldn't hear, expression vaguely amused.
Severus wasn't sure he liked having people amused because of him. Caught, he took the handful of unwrapped candies, and settled them on his lap to pick through out of sight. Most of them were new to him, and very interesting to look at. "You haven't to win me over. I am in this house now."
"Don't worry," Lucius assured smoothly. "You'll know what I mean by the end of the week, likely. Anyway, pretty soon, the prefects will gather up all of the first years and herd the lot of you along to your dorms."
"Who else is a first year...?" He expected Lucius to have the answers he didn't -- the social things, ceremony and such. It seemed that Lucius knew that well. "I didn't pay attention to that."
"The ones from Baddock to the end of the table; and the ones from you to the end, as well." Lucius had caught a few names; one of the Parkinson brats, a sister of some Gryffindor, Brown or something, but other than that, he really hadn't noticed much about them, either. They didn't seem that important, really, in the face of a much more interesting person.
Lucius always indulged his interests.
It was better still when an interest could eventually facilitate his own interests. His father always stressed that he look out for himself, and do what would serve him best, after all. Severus seemed to... lack that, but he wasn't trusting or stupid, at least. Slytherin didn't need any more stupid, cruel brutes in the house.
Severus glanced at the other first years, chattering among themselves, and no few watching him talk to Lucius. An exclusive sort -- he knew he'd be the one excluded, knew it right away. It wouldn't bother him much at all. "Oh. Those."
"Look, if you want, I'll show you our rooms, later." It wasn't an offer out of the goodness of his heart, even Lucius had to admit. The boy showed great promise, capability that was quite frankly more than any of the other boys his age had ever shown except, perhaps, for Lestrange, and he wasn't really to be trusted. It would be better, he thought, to be sure that Severus trusted him, perhaps even only him. Yes, that was a plan. He'd see how it worked out as they went along.
There seemed to be no apprehension over that idea, not even a flicker of it. "I'd like that." And then he went back to chewing on a piece of toffee, still looking at Lucius. It made the blond boy feel like he was some glass-caged creature, but the drilling looks from black-black eyes were appraising.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lucius asked him, tilting his head to the side. It was odd, as if Severus had never seen anything quite like him before.
"Because you don't look real. You look as from a book-illustration." Severus decided that as he idly popped another toffee into his mouth, chewing neatly. The silence he'd suffered after being sorted was worth it to eat sweets and sit beside someone so fascinating to look at, and intelligent.
"Of course I do," Lucius agreed, preening slightly for Severus's benefit. "I'm a Malfoy. It's a trait of ours to be devilishly handsome and charming."
The black-haired boy grinned, for just a flicker of a moment, in an almost nervous way. Lucius was devilishly handsome, and Severus knew that he... well, he was skinny, and he had a big nose. That was all he needed to know, and that it didn't really matter to bookworms. If he could cast spells, no one would pick on him. Of course, his grandfather had told him to just smile and be nice.
The old man was out of touch with reality. "You're very good at it."
"I know," Lucius answered smugly. "And when I have children, they will also be very good at it. The best, in fact, I do believe."
"It only goes to figure that the people best at being Malfoy-ish would be Malfoys," Lestrange drawled, leaning an elbow on the table.
"Was I talking with you?" Severus fixed that intense gaze on the boy who'd just spoken -- but didn't leave him with a chance to answer. "No. So it isn't any of your business."
"Fucking God, Lucius..."
"DO watch your tongue," Lucius drawled. "I'm sure you'd hate to lose it." It wasn't a threat of Severus doing it, either; Lucius was fully capable of at least temporarily shutting up Lestrange in quite a manner of delightful magical ways, as he often practiced on the Manor's house elves.
"Why're you cursing like a muggle?" Severus was tidying up his candy, tucking it away into his pockets as the Hufflepuffs were being rounded up to be taken off.
"It's a horrid affectation he picked up on holiday, slumming with the nastiest trash imaginable, I suspect," Lucius informed Severus smugly.
"You're a hateful brat, Malfoy, and I'd watch your back if I were you!"
"No problem there," the blond drawled limpidly, gesturing to Crabbe and Goyle beside him. "I really don't think you want to try that, Lestrange."
"Why is he a hateful brat, but you're not? You've been saying things, too." Severus folded his hands in his lap, and then unfolded them to take a drink of his juice. "Are there two standards?"
"Yes," Lestrange agreed.
"I am a brat," Lucius informed the table at large, "but I'm the best brat out of the lot of you, and I suggest you not forget it. Else I'll find ways to make sure you remember it," he threatened, and in that moment, he honestly looked frightening enough that even the few fourth years nearby backed away slightly.
A lean boy from the other side of the table stood up, then, and made his way towards where the first years sat. "All right -- first year Slytherins, follow me. You're going to go with me to the dormitories..."
"See you downstairs," the blond told Severus with a distinct smile. "You'll love it."
Downstairs? He stood up smoothly, and dusted down the front of his cloak. "Goodbye, Lucius." A pity that he had to go off with his peers and face their stupidity... but he'd be able to see Lucius soon, and that was grand.
A languid motion of one pale hand waved him away, a sort of goodbye, and grey eyes watched him as he walked out with the other first years.
"Hey, Malfoy?"
Lucius turned to look at Gristian Goyle, a pale brow rising in question.
"Why so much interest in a first year?"
It was an excellent question, really, all things considered, and that misty gaze turned to once again watch the door of the Great Hall thoughtfully. "A bit of a hunch, actually. His parents died in the service of the Lord," he murmured, and they all knew what he meant, just as most of them knew that his father stood at Voldemort's right hand. "He's bright, a little unusual, and he already knows curses most of you lot don't, just from the look of what's passed."
Goyle nodded slowly, equally contemplative. For all that some things passed over his head and that of Pyrrhus Crabbe, both of them were devoted to Lucius and took his word above all others as to what might be right or wrong or even necessary.
"Really, Malfoy," Lestrange sneered. "It's so out of character for you to take interest in someone else. What's that brat capable of giving you?"
"We'll just see, won't we?" Lucius drawled, standing from the table. Crabbe and Goyle both stood with him, swiping cupcakes as they did so, and Lucius grabbed a couple as well, almost as if it was an afterthought. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, Nordstrom," he said sweetly, almost insulting Lestrange with the use of his ridiculous first name.
And they left before Lestrange had time to snap out a retort.
The stairs were moving, and Severus's first thought on it was that he didn't like moving stairs at all. So far the whole of the building seemed alive, in ways that Snape Manor never had been. Oh, he was used to moving pictures, unlike some of the half-bloods who walked in that group. He was also accustomed to hidden doorways and floating candles for light, though he shied away from the candles a little. They had a nasty habit of dripping wax when least expected, and his pale skin didn't handle burns well.
Just as he didn't seem to handle listening to banter well. The other children talked, but he walked quietly in their ranks, listening patiently to the Prefect.
"...boys dorms down and to the left, girls to the right. Your things have already been put away for you."
An idea that had never occurred to him before. Severus was used to having his own room, his own bed, and the quiet, smothering silence of privacy. Now he'd have to share a room...?
It didn't promise to be pleasant, especially when he stepped into the room that seemed to be assigned to first years.
"Hey," a redheaded boy said. "Look. It's that guy that was talking to the blond..."
Another boy moved forward, thrusting out his hand. "I'm Parkinson. And you are?"
"Snape," Severus murmured, staring at Parkinson's hand as if it were a foreign thing. Then he took it, after a long pause, and shook lightly with his thin hand. "Severus Snape." He didn't really look at Parkinson as he shook the other boy's hand, though -- he glanced around the dormitory, the handsomely crafted, large bunk-style beds, for his things.
"Yes, yes, I've heard of you. Parents are dead, aren't they? Poor little orphan boy," the redhead mocked.
"I'm not an orphan," he defended, letting go of Parkinson's hand. "I've my grandfather, and he's family enough. Who're you, to laugh at me?"
"Oh, him. He's just a Weasley or something."
"I am NOT a bloody muggle-loving Weasley!" the redhead sneered. "I'm Marvin Bulstrode, and you know it, Parkinson, you ass!"
"You've no right to say a thing to me in that tone of voice, Marvin Bulstrode," Severus decided, before he turned away to head to the bunk he saw his trunk on. It didn't take him but a moment to sit on the bottom bed, and start digging through it for a book. The other students his age struck him as dull.
"Just leave him alone," Parkinson drawled. "He probably should've been Ravenclaw or something anyway, as he's even brought books with him, particularly ones that aren't schoolbooks. 'S not worth the effort, all right, Bulstrode? Keep your shorts on."
"What was I supposed to bring with me?" Severus asked, looking up from the pages a bit idly. His wand, unseen to them, slid down his sleeve a little, until the point nuzzled against his palm with familiarity.
"Schoolbooks, school stuff, that kind of thing. Not outside books. Only people do that're Ravenclaws," Bulstrode said a little rudely.
"So who was that blond kid you were sucking up to?" Parkinson asked him.
"Lucius Malfoy," Severus pronounced with obvious delight curling his mouth. "I wasn't 'sucking up'. I was speaking with him. Something you can't do because you've probably the conversational ability of an owl."
"Why you obnoxious little geek!" Parkinson declared, moving to push at him. "Say that again!"
Severus closed the book slowly, bent a little to slip it back into the chest. His wand fitted better into his fingers, ready to use it at a moment's notice -- at the first touch of hand to him. "You've the conversational ability of an owl."
"FIGHT!" Bulstrode yelled as Parkinson flew at Severus.
"I wouldn't suggest that if I were you," came a slow drawl from the doorway. "But go right ahead, if you want to destroy any hope you ever have of speaking again or, say, having children."
Parkinson felt the tip of Severus's wand nestled against his breastbone, the other boy having jerked back into the bunk proper when Parkinson had lunged. Fear had made him do that, but instinct put his wand to the fore, ready to blast the bigger boy back. Then, lucky for them all, that voice broke in. Not lowering his wand, Severus murmured, "Hello, Lucius."
"Do come along, Severus. I'm sure there are far more entertaining things to do than to lay beneath a Parkinson, of all people," Lucius said primly.
"Oh, yeah!?" Parkinson asked.
"Quite," Lucius agreed.
The thin boy squirmed a little -- accidentally kneeing Parkinson in the crotch -- before he slipped to the floor and straightened his clothes. A toffee fell out of his pocket, and he stooped a moment to clutch it in the same hand his wand held. "All right." Then he brushed past Bulstrode, who at least had the sense not to defy the blond boy looming in the doorway. The other first year boys had the sense to stay out of the fray.
"And you just make sure that you remember to act that way," Lucius told them coldly. "I won't accept any of you losing House points over something stupid, and particularly not over abusing Severus. Keep that in mind."
Parkinson was clutching at his crotch and making whining noises -- though, Bulstrode nodded for them both, even if it was insincere. Severus didn't seem to notice, instead standing right in front of Lucius, waiting to be led out.
After all, he wasn't just going to walk past Lucius, too! Severus was mostly sure that three steps out of the dormitory, and he'd be permanently and hopelessly lost.
"Come, Severus," Lucius said, and turned, moving out into the hallway with an aching grace that would have made anyone envious, a hand lightly gesturing for him to follow.
Severus fell easily into step with Lucius. The blond boy may have been older than him, and generally bigger, but Severus had long, skinny legs that let him easily match Lucius' footfalls. "Where're we headed?"
"Second year dormitories. They're a level down, actually. Crabbe and Goyle and Lestrange are all in there, as well, but I doubt you'll have any worries. If you like, you can stay there tonight." It was an offer made purely because Lucius did know that the other boys were likely to exact revenge in the dark of the night, but he wasn't going to say it aloud. He didn't want company in his bed every night, after all.
Severus was an odd enough duck to do just that, too -- oddly puppy-like in that he seemed to trust Lucius, but sharp-minded, and a bit vicious. "If I run, it won't do me anything but make them more sure of themselves. And I shan't like living with cocky people." Still, he wanted to go with Lucius, and see the other dormitories, and be with the older boys.
"Well, it's certainly your decision," Lucius agreed, slipping down the stairs. "Watch out for every sixth step. One occasionally tries to eat you."
"On all of the stairs, or only this set?" He paused at the top of the steps, as Lucius slipped lower. Black eyes looked warily down their length, as if seeking teeth.
"Only this set," Lucius admitted over his shoulder. "You'll learn the peculiarities in time. There are staircases that move, some with disappearing steps, others which turn into spirals when you step on them, that sort of thing. Once you step on the first, I suspect you'll remember about it thereafter."
"I'd rather not be eaten my first day..." But he started down the stairs stubbornly, counting softly. When he stood on the fifth step, he jumped to the seventh, and started the count anew. It was a great deal slower than Lucius's careless trot.
A fair snicker came from the blond as he reached the landing. "No," he said, "I can't imagine you'd like that at all."
"They don't really eat people do they? Steps haven't stomachs, have they?" he asked warily, once he was standing beside Lucius again, and peering over his shoulder.
"It'll just slobber all over you, no real harm done," Lucius admitted, continuing down the hallway there. "But it is awfully disgusting to feel and nasty to hear, and quite frankly, I don't want to listen to the screaming about it tonight."
"I wouldn't scream," Severus halfway promised, looking sideways at Lucius as they went down the hallway. It probably wouldn't help him from getting lost, watching the other boy instead of the hall.
"I wouldn't, either," the blond replied, "but it's just as well to know its there and what it'll do, isn't it? Veela," he announced calmly, and a hidden door swung open, revealing the second year dorm room. It was quite different than that of the first years; for one thing, there were bookcases scattered across the walls, and separate beds, though all but one of them were actually smaller than the bunk beds Severus had seen. That one almost naturally belonged to Lucius, for the older boy strolled over and dropped onto it. "So."
"Brought your pet, I see," Lestrange grumbled, pulling his covers over his head.
"Shut it, Nordstrom."
"I'm not a pet," Severus murmured, crossing his arms for a moment as he stood near the bed for a moment, then sat down beside Lucius thoughtfully. "Will you tell me what classes are like here? They went on and on about ceremony and blither, when all I want to know is what we'll get to learn."
"The first few years are core classes; Transfigurations, Potions, History of Magic, Flying Lessons, Charms, Dark Arts -- they call it Defense Against, but you can ignore that. It's that sort of thing. You learn the basics, and then third year, you get to choose electives of sorts, Divinations, Arithmancy, etcetera. Would you like one?" Lucius asked, offering him a small box with a chocolate frog in it.
A soft, pleased noise left Severus, and he uttered, "Thank you," even as he reached for it. Chocolate Frogs were fun to eat because they moved. He could snap one jumpy leg off and suck on it, while the rest of the enchanted frog twitched pathetically. It was indescribably pleasing, and easier to do because it was just an enchantment, and meant to be eaten. He cupped the squirming thing in both thin hands for a moment, then did just that, popping one twitching leg halfway between his lips. "Grandfather didn't like me to have candy, ever."
"Bad for the teeth, right?" Lucius mocked. "Father feels the same way, but Mother sends me packages every other day."
"An' he shares," Goyle agreed from where he lounged on his own bed several feet away, parchment spread out around him.
"You really should have done your homework before now, Gristian," Lucius sighed, but he knew it was useless.
"No, he says it's bad for the..." Severus patted his concave tummy. "He is a big man. I think he doesn't let me have any because he'd eat them himself." Severus's gaze followed Lucius's and he skipped right along in conversation with, "You have summer homework?"
"Yes. Learning is a constant process, or so Father claims. Personally..." Lucius's voice lowered to a mischievous whisper. "I think it's just the parental hope that having a tad more to do will keep us out of a bit of trouble, hm?"
"Or out of the garden," Severus agreed softly. He finished chewing on the frog's foot, before he snapped off the front leg on the same side, and then set it on the bed to watch it try to hop. "Does Hogwarts have a garden?"
"Several," Lucius replied. "Why would they want to keep you out of the garden, though?" Watching the small dark-haired boy torture the chocolate frog was no small amount fascinating.
"Because I liked to look through the flowers. And sometimes I chewed on them, because I knew what they'd do if I mixed them in my mouth." That was why his grandfather had banned him from the garden, which had been a depressing prospect.
"What would they do?" That was a sleepy Crabbe, but he was curious enough to ask the question.
"Some of them turned me colors," Severus said, as he scraped a nail down the back of the frog, making it squirm furiously. Then he brought his finger to his mouth, and licked the chocolate off. "Others were like weak pepper up potions. I liked that one."
"I'll bet they have some of them in the gardens here," Lucius offered with a brilliant smile. "If they do, will you show me?"
"If you'll show me around the gardens." The boy agreed easily to most things Lucius suggested, and he was heavily distracted by gouging a hole into the chocolate frog's side.
"Why are you torturing the frog?" It was curiosity more than anything else, and the blond leaned over, watching him. "It's only chocolate. It might be more fun if you had a real one."
"That's too messy," Severus informed him, "and this won't get me in trouble with anyone, will it? Because even if I get chocolate on the bedding, it's not anything bad."
That was sort of sweet, Lucius decided, if a tad misled. "No. That won't get anyone in any trouble, and since it's my bed, and my sheets, I don't see why you can't get chocolate on it."
"I do know cleaning spells..." It was only common sense that when one could draw blood with a spell that the cover-up had to be learned. Severus stopped gouging the frog, and simply snapped a foot off, and popped it into his mouth.
"Merlin, can't you send the little sadist off to bed?" Lestrange snapped, as he peered out of his bedding, one eye cracked open.
"Hmm, I'm not ready yet, Nordstrom," Lucius said almost teasingly. "Besides, Goyle's doing homework. Cast a silencing charm and stuff your head under a pillow or something."
"I think I'll do just that," Lestrange muttered, jerking his sheets up. A wand poked around beneath it for a moment, and then he settled down.
Severus had pressed the frog's foot to the roof of his mouth, so he was occupied licking the melting chocolate. The flavor was certainly something he was going to savor -- because he was well aware that if he had another bite, he'd be sick. "Do you want the rest of it? I don't think I can eat any more."
"You'll probably have a bellyache later," Goyle predicted. "Happens to me when I eat too much chocolate."
"I know a charm for that, if you like..." Lucius offered.
"Can you teach me it?" Severus leaned eagerly nearer, even as he shuffled the maimed frog nearer to Lucius in offering. It was nice to have someone offer to do something for him.
"Sure," Lucius replied, popping the remains of the mutilated thing into his mouth. "This is how you do it..."
It was just before curfew when Severus slipped back into the first year dorm. He had two unopened chocolate frogs with him -- and the card from the first -- and four new charms to practice. His stomach had entirely stopped threatening to upturn itself, and the stairs hadn't eaten him. The whole experience had been pleasant, more a highlight to the day then the pomp and ceremony of the sorting.
Severus Snape was now exhausted.
The dorm room itself was almost suspiciously quiet; only one candle remained lit, and it was set upon the table next to one of the bottom bunks, where all of his things remained near.
It was, to be quite frank, a little suspicious.
Why ever would they leave a candle burning for him? He set his chocolate frogs down, letting his wand slip carefully into his hand as he started to strip off to put on his pajamas. It was going to be slower going because one hand was occupied with the wand, but better safe than sorry for it.
A little whisper caught his attention, a bare slither of sound; he was accustomed to sneaking about near his suspicious Grandfather, though, and that made a boy very well aware of out-of-place noises. It was no particular surprise when one of the other boys launched out of the dark and slammed into him.
He just didn't expect to be knocked forwards. Severus went down quickly, thin frame unable to put up much of a struggle. His wand ended up pinned under his narrow chest, jabbing his skin as he struggled to get untangled from his trousers and half-off shirt. "Get off me! Get off me!"
"You little freak!" He was pretty sure that was Parkinson hissing in his ear. "Don't you ever knee me in the crotch again!" A fist slammed into the back of his head.
Stars burst faintly in his vision, pinpricks of reds, blues and greens, when his head jolted again the tiled floor. "Don't hit me!!"
"What are you going to do about it, mister 'I have a wand and a stupid blond friend!'?" Parkinson sneered, hitting him once more.
"I'll kill you!" Severus howled softly, struggling. It was pathetic to be pinned there to the floor, being battered around -- but that boy didn't know what he was doing. He'd regret it, when he slipped, or even let Severus up. "Get off me! Get off me!"
Hissed encouragements came out of the dark, the other boys in the room cheering Parkinson on even as a firm knock came upon the door. "This is your Head of House. If you are not in bed and properly dressed, you will shortly find yourself humiliated!"
"Help me! They're trying to kill me!" Severus cried out loudly, even as he kicked a foot to catch Parkinson in the groin again.
"Ohhh!" Parkinson yelped just as the door flew open, a woman standing there with what was plainly fury on her face.
"YOU WILL NOT BEHAVE LIKE THIS IN MY HOUSE!" she bellowed, and promptly cast a spell that set both of them reeling.
Severus didn't like that. His head was already spinning and throbbing from the pounding he'd taken, and to have that dropped on top of him intensified it. Parkinson staggered up, though, and Severus, tangled in his clothes still, stayed passively on the floor. It was better to act like he was even more badly off than he was, in that moment. "Professor..." he whimpered softly, making a hazy attempt to push himself up a little.
"That will be fifteen points off, gentlemen. Mr. Snape, are you in need of the infirmary?" Professor Hecate asked coolly, wand still leveled at the both of them. "And I believe I will wait for an explanation of this behavior come morning. Then, the responsible party will be serving detention with me."
Infirmary meant not having to sleep the night with the other boys, and stopping the ringing in his head. "Yes... I've a skull-ache," he murmured, rising to his knees, and making a sad attempt to straighten his trousers and pull his shirt on. His wand lay where it had fallen beneath him on the floor for the moment.
"Come along, then," the woman said with stern inflection. "I'll take you to see Madame Pomfrey."
That name sounded as formidable as the Head of House did. Still, a bed all to himself and silence promised to be pleasant. He stood up shakily, one hand pressing to the side of his head, before he stooped carefully to get his wand. "Yes, ma'am."
The woman waited for him, and lightly put a hand on his shoulder just once when the door was closed, moving it away again just as easily. "You'll be feeling very much better shortly, Mr. Snape. I feel sure Madame Pomfrey will want to keep you overnight. She often does."
"Can I stay with the second years?" he asked hesitantly, still holding his head just as tightly as he gripped his wand. He didn't want to go through that every night. At least, he wanted to stay there until he'd scared the other first years enough in class. Then he'd be all right.
"That would be most unusual, Mr. Snape. I did notice you speaking with Mr. Malfoy earlier, however... I suppose that you might ask him if you may, for I generally leave such decisions up to my students. You will find that I do not often strictly enforce curfew nor make unreasonable demands. However, in return, you must keep all things tidy and be at least marginally polite. Do you think you might manage that?"
"Yes, ma'am." He was going to take forever to get used to calling them 'professor' -- until then, there were default polite words to be used. He walked beside her carefully, mindful now of the scenery. The infirmary sounded like a good place to know the location of, from the doorstep of his dorm, to the front door of the place. He was oddly sure he'd have every step of the route memorized within weeks. It wasn't a pleasant thing to note. "Lucius showed me about the steps that chew. He's very nice."
That seemed to startle her, just a bit. "How remarkable. Well, hopefully you will continue to get on. Here we are. Poppy!" she called, pushing open the door to the infirmary.
"What's wrong so late, Josephine -- it's past curfew..." Any injuries past curfew tended to be the worst. A young-looking mediwitch slipped out from a back curtain, walking pointedly towards them. Looks were often deceiving, Severus reminded himself, edging a bit behind Professor Hecate's robes.
"Fighting amongst the first years, I'm afraid. I've got one with a bit of a battered skull, Severus Snape. Mr. Snape would likely benefit from your expertise," Hecate explained.
"And on the first day of school -- before classes even start. I never..." Madam Pomfrey shook her head, holding a hand out to Severus. "Come along. We'll put you into some pajamas, and then give you a potion for your head. Make sure there's nothing serious wrong."
He edged forwards, wand still firmly gripped in his right hand, and lightly touched her fingers with his thin palm, grasping. "All right."
"I will see you promptly in my office by seven, Mr. Snape," Professor Hecate informed him. "We will discuss this matter then."
"Yes, ma'am," Severus murmured, peering over his shoulder at her. Even if he did get in trouble for being battered around, he was sure that he'd be able to be on his best manners for the next few years.
"Well, then, Severus, come in and we'll do something about that head of yours," Madam Pomfrey told him, nodding to his Professor, who left the Infirmary with a wave of her hand. "Show me where it hurts."
Severus didn't hesitate to touch the growing bruise on his forehead, or the welt left by fists at the base of his skull. "There, and there."
"Ahhh, yes. Yes. We'll have that all taken care of by morning. Now, you lay down here, and don't move until I get back," she told him, and bustled off to somewhere or other.
He glanced at the bed, with its crisp frame of white-painted steel, and perched on the edge of it for a moment. His head was still throbbing, and he didn't quite feel like he had all of his bearings yet. Not so bad, for a first night -- he just hoped Professor Hecate wouldn't send a note along to his grandfather about it. Too many people knowing would be embarrassing, and he wanted to avoid that.
By the time Madam Pomfrey came back, he'd pulled his vest up over his head to set it beside him, and was staring at his wand, held in both hands now. Thin legs kicked idly, the toes of his shoes scraping the infirmary's tiled floor. It was something he'd always done to occupy himself, repeating spells to himself without enough effort to cast them. Only, they were spells he was unaware were most horrifying for an adult to hear leaving his small mouth.
"Goodness gracious, Mr. Snape!" the woman gaped, looking at him as if he'd quite lost his mind. "Don't you dare cast so much as a single one of those! You hadn't ought to even know them!" How could something so very tiny and vaguely adorable possibly know something like that!?
He looked up at her with sleepy eyes, though his eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "Why hadn't I ought to know them? I read them. If they're in books, they ought to be known..." And tested, often on the house mice. Those were fun to make walk backwards, and climb up walls backwards, and do everything backwards, and when he was done, he'd feed the mice to his owl, and his grandfather was never the wiser of it.
"Not everything in books is good," she told him seriously. "Just because it's in a book doesn't make it right or proper for such a young man to know. Books have no sense of morals or justice. One cannot always trust them," Pomfrey explained.
"I've not had a book try to crack my head open, yet," Severus pointed out, still looking up at her. There wasn't a thing wrong with what he was learning and wanted to learn more of -- so obviously there was something wrong with her. "And I can do everything I've read. Everything. It's nice."
"Listen, Severus, that's not what I'm saying," Madame Pomfrey said gently. "There are moral questions of whether one should do something or not that perhaps you just don't grasp yet. Do keep that in mind, won't you?"
He was still looking at her as if she were speaking some foreign tongue to him. "Grandfather says that if you've read it, it's meant to be done..."
That, she decided, certainly said quite a lot about the reasons why the Snape family had gone bad. /Dear God, someone trusted that old man to raise a child and look at what's happened!/ "Dear, your grandfather might not always be right," she said, prodding him into swallowing a potion for pain and healing his bruises with her wand.
"Indeed, young Severus. Even old people are not infallible." And the man in the doorway was certainly old enough, with a gray beard and half-moon glasses and twinkling eyes.
"How do you know my name?" He held still as Madam Pomfrey cast a spell to rid him of the bruise at the back of his head, except for thin fingers lifting to push a wisp of too-long hair from his face. "I've never said Grandfather is infallible."
"I know a great many things, Severus. My name is Professor Dumbledore, current head of Gryffindor House. I'll be teaching you Transfigurations; at least until next year, then you'll get a new teacher," the old man said, sitting down beside him. "Though you are, perhaps, right. Infallible is too strong a word, isn't it? Madame Pomfrey is also correct, however; not all learning should be put to use. A little bit of knowledge can be a very dangerous thing."
That was an entirely new concept to wrap his mind around, and Severus was sure he wouldn't be able to take it to heart without a great deal of effort. "How's that?" He glanced up at the old man, at those strange glasses, and his open expression. It was the same pointed way, almost rude in its intensity, that he'd looked at Lucius earlier. Sudden trust, not the wary sort he'd granted Madam Pomfrey and the Head of his House, was almost palpable. He decided things, as always, on the spur of the moment and without dickering.
"Oh, well. Imagine that you know how to, say, make flowers grow in the middle of the Infirmary. While I quite like flowers, they also make me sneeze, and if I were to come to the Infirmary seeking help with my sneezing, then your flowers would only make them worse; especially if you didn't know how to get rid of them, say. Just because you can grow the flowers doesn't mean that you should," Dumledore said quite simply.
"Oh." It made a great deal of sense, but still... things could be tampered and toyed with, couldn't they? He did that all the time not to get in trouble with his grandfather. Carefully, he fitted his wand into his palm, and pointed it at his other hand, expression screwing up for a moment in concentration. "Orchideous." Dull purple flowers burst from the tip, and fell into Severus's waiting hand. He offered them up to Dumbledore, before adding, "They haven't any pollen. That's what makes you sneeze."
Unable to help himself, the old man laughed. "Well, well. It is indeed. Thank you, Severus. That is much appreciated."
"I have a few manners," Severus half-suggested, glancing to Madam Pomfrey. He still thought she was a little mad -- all she had to do was say it the way that Dumbledore had, instead of nattering on about books not being trustworthy. "I learn the undoing spell first, always."
"That is most wise of you," Dumbledore told him, nodding seriously. "Did you know that there are some spells for which there is no 'undoing'?"
"Cruciatus. The killing curse..." It was all that rose to his mind immediately, so he let his voice trail off, and waited expectantly for Dumbledore to tell him what he'd missed.
"And Imperius, as well. You're a very bright young man, Severus. You will undoubtedly be a delight to teach," the old professor said, gently laying a hand upon his shoulder. "Now, lay down. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will have my head if I continue to keep you awake, as you have a very busy day ahead of you tomorrow."
"I've your class tomorrow?" He shifted a little, to stretch out fully clothed atop the reasonably comfortable mattress. It was a bit sad that his schedule was with his things, and that he hadn't had a chance to look at it yet because his new roommates were intent on antagonizing him.
"Indeed, you do, and..." Blue eyes twinkled wildly. "Perhaps if you ask Mr. Malfoy quite nicely, he'll be willing to have a fifth bed added to the second year dormitories for you. He's rather dictatorial with the rest of the Slytherin House, but the two of you seem to have had quite a nice conversation tonight during dinner."
Severus nodded to that. It had been a nice conversation, and the other boy seemed... different from the rest of them. "The other first years don't like me," he told Dumbledore as he closed his eyes. "That's all right. I don't think much of them, either. I should've stayed with Lucius -- he offered, for tonight..." There was safety there with the blond boy, when he couldn't provide it for himself. "I should've given Parkinson a beak."
"Well, there's always tomorrow."
Severus listened to Dumbledore leave, then glanced over to Madam Pomfrey. black eyes remained open for only a moment. "Can you wake me up very early?" It might take him far past an hour to lip down to the dorms again, wash, get his books, then visit the Head of his House at Seven promptly.
"Six thirty and not a moment sooner. I'll walk you down to your dorms, never fear," she promised, and gave him another potion, this one for sleeping.
He wanted to protest that, but there was no chance before he was sucked down into sleep.
Madam Pomfrey had woken him up just slightly before six thirty, and let him bathe in the infirmary. Then she walked him down to dorms, and lingered as he gathered his books for the day, his schedule, and stuffed them all into his shoulder sack. Someone had eaten one of the chocolate frogs Lucius had given him, but he pocketed the other to eat later that day.
Then he followed Madam Pomfrey's directions to the letter to get to the office of Professor Hecate. It was two minutes before seven when he knocked.
"Enter." The word seemed sort of cold, and he couldn't help but shiver just a tad as he walked through the door. "Good morning, Mister Snape. I see that you seem to have passed the evening well enough. Come in."
Silently, he closed the door behind him. It was a crisp office, as crisp as her voice had been. The stone walls seemed almost too clean, until they looked as neat as brick. No papers on her desk, and there was a heavy bookcase behind her. Severus took all of that in, and filed it away in his mind, as he stood in front of her desk. "Yes, ma'am."
"Now. Tell me, most precisely, what happened last evening. Keep in mind that I will be comparing your tale to others, Mr. Snape, and that I do not approve of falsehood in any shape or form," the professor told him sternly.
"From when I came back from the second year dorm, ma'am, or from when we first arrived there. Because it started then." He didn't plan on lying to her -- the truth could sometimes be uncomfortable, but he didn't feel guilt over anything, or any shame at all.
"From the beginning, then," the woman told him, and nodded firmly.
"When we got to the dorms, Parkinson and Bulstrode introduced themselves. I shook, I think it was Parkison's hand, and introduced myself. Then Parkinson said I was an orphan, which just isn't true, because I live with Grandfather. Then I asked him who he thought he was to say that to me. Bulstrode said something that distracted him, so I sat down on my bunk to read. They teased me on that, too, and on my talking to Lucius at the feast. I told Parkinson that he wished he had better conversation ability than an owl. That got him very up, and he asked me what I said. So, I repeated it. Then he tackled me, and I was going to get him off of me with my wand, but Lucius stopped them. I got out from under Parkinson, and I think I kneed him in the groin." Severus paused there, and looked at her a bit ruefully. "I've very long legs. Sometimes I trip. I'm not always sure where they are." Which was entirely a truth, because he was just starting to hit a growth-spurt that his grandfather said would make him very tall.
"I see. And I assume that Mr. Malfoy then took you out of the dorms, as you were still dressed when I arrived?"
"Yes. We went down the munching stairs -- because they don't really eat you, do they? I don't think they do -- and I met the other second year boys. He gave me a chocolate frog that we ate, and we talked. Lestrange complained that I was there, but Crabbe and... Goyle, I think it was, didn't mind me. I got a bit sick to my stomach, so Lucius taught me a charm that would fix that, and then he led me halfway back to the first year dorm. I had two chocolate frogs that he gave me in my hand. When I opened the door, it was very quiet in there, and the only candle lit was the one on my bedside. It was very suspicious, so I set my frogs down on the table there, and got my wand out of my sleeve as I started to undress. Parkinson tackled me before I could get anything more than my outer robe off. He started to punch me in the back of the head, and called me a little freak. I dropped my wand then, when he tackled me, and I couldn't get it because he had a knee in my back. Then you came up."
"Well," the professor said, "that actually coincides quite well with what Mr. Malfoy has told me. We will see what Mr. Parkinson has to say. For now, I suggest you go to breakfast, Mr. Snape. Straight down this hall, up a flight of stairs, to the left, and up another flight of stairs. I will see you in fourth period. That is all."
"Could you..." He paused a moment to pull the other chocolate frog out of his pocket, and set it on her desk. "They ate the other one. I'm worried this one might've had something done to it." Something muggle-ish, because he hadn't picked up any magical tampering. She, being an adult, was better equipped to see that sort of thing.
"I see..." For a second, he wasn't quite sure what she was going to do, but she opened the right-hand drawer of her desk and pulled out another box identical to his own, lightly placing it in his hand. The woman's dark eyes were without a doubt shining as she gave him a tiny, secretive little smirk. "Well, why don't you eat this one in front of them, instead, Severus."
His own eyes, so black that they seemed to lack pupils, lit up for a moment. That secretive smile was returned, and he closed thin fingers around the box. "I'll do that. Thank you. Oh--" He realized he was probably taking too much time, but things just kept leaping to his mind. He made himself walk halfway to the door, though. She didn't seem so frightening now. Cold within reason. "Professor... Dumbledore, I think, with the moon glasses? He said that I should... ask Lucius if I could stay in the second year dorms, But since you're the Head of House, and not him, I don't know..."
Obviously, their conversation from the night before had been forgotten; and no small wonder, as his head had been battered against a stone floor. "Speak with Mr. Malfoy. I don't tend to interfere in the business of my students, Mr. Snape. However, you may come to me if you have any further needs. That is all." A second dismissal, and this one was more firm than the first.
He wasn't going to dicker around past that. "Thank you, ma'am." And then he slipped out, down the narrow hallway. Parkinson was coming down the hall towards him, so he stopped, and pressed against the wall a little to let Parkinson pass. The other boy sneered at him, smirked at the sight of the chocolate frog in his palm, and then continued on towards Professor Hecate's office.
If Severus hadn't been sure before that it was tainted, he was entirely sure now. And he was going to eat the 'clean' one. Slowly. Professor Hecate, he decided as he followed her directions to the great hall, was a quick-minded woman.
By the time he made it to the Great Hall, breakfast was in session and voices could be heard from out of the doors, though they were mostly muffled and the sounds of eating were much more prevalent. Lucius and his roommates were all at table when Severus headed in that direction, and the blond waved him over languidly, tilting his head to look up at him as the brunette stopped beside him. "Good morning, Severus. Breakfast?"
"Yes, I think I will," Severus replied, still feeling smug, as he sat down beside Lucius again. The gold and blue box the chocolate frog was in was slipped back into his pocket with a gesture of almost triumph. "I don't believe I'm in trouble with Professor Hecate."
"She came by earlier, very interested in whatever had happened last night." Those grey eyes gleamed at him, Lucius's gaze narrowing slightly. "I told her everything that I could think of." That meant everything he had thought best for her to know; there were some small secrets even amongst what they had done the night before that he would not have wanted revealed.
"Parkinson tackled me when I came in the dorm. Hit my head around, and I spent the night in the infirmary. What's Professor Dumbledore's class like?" Unlike the day before, Severus felt more comfortable in the hall. It was emptier of the crush of students. and the mess of the night before left him feeling, oddly, as if he'd been initiated into something. His first fight ever. He'd only read about that in books, until then.
"Lots of silly turning things into other things," Lucius said, his nose wrinkling slightly. "He thinks he's very entertaining, at any rate."
"I dunno," Crabbe said across the way. "I kind of like it. I mean, it's kind of fun, isn't it? Maybe we'll learn how to turn people into things, then."
"Yeah," Goyle agreed. "Then we could get rid of all the Gryffindors. Turn 'em into pincushions or pastries or something."
"They're the ones in red, aren't they...?" Severus asked, peering over to the other side of the hall. He didn't pay very much attention to who'd sorted where -- only that on the train ride there, he'd bumped into an obnoxious boy with scruffy black hair and glasses. Who in their right mind wore glasses? There were correction spells, after all...
"And they all think they're better than everyone else," Lucius agreed with no small amount of exasperation. "Really. You'd think they'd all just accept that Slytherins are better than they are..." That statement was greeted with hoots of laughter. "But I suppose, when you're as intolerable as they often are, you do the best with what you're given. Muggle-loving lot."
"And we'll kick their muggle-loving asses during the Quidditch season!" a fourth year a bit down agreed. Severus didn't comment right away -- he only picked up his plate, shoveled himself a healthy portion of scrambled eggs, and started to eat.
"They bring themselves down, doing that, don't they? I mean, having muggle-borns on their team?"
"Yes, but they don't seem to see it that way. I'm afraid they see it as the big bad Slytherins cheating again," Lucius sneered. "It isn't cheating. It's just a willingness to sacrifice anything one must to win." His expression had become extraordinarily intense. "I will win in the face of all adversity, Severus. I refuse to lose. Keep that in mind, always."
"That's something very hard to forget." He swallowed another mouthful of scrambled eggs as he mulled that over, too. Parkinson should've been one of those Gryffindors, he decided. They seemed that way, superior about things which they didn't have a right to be. He'd guessed that much about Gryffindors from a few comments he'd heard that boy tossing back and forth with other boys.
"Don't worry, though," Crabbe said around a mouthful of porridge. "Lucius'll kick 'eir ashes 'gain 'is year." He swallowed. "He's our Quidditch Seeker. Shoulda been last year, but first years aren't allowed to have brooms. Stupid rule," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Anyway. We had more House points 'n they did."
"We're already down fifteen. Does that mean we've started in the red?" Severus took a careful sip of his juice. It didn't mix well with the taste of scrambled eggs.
"Not precisely," Lucius drawled. "And don't worry. I'll take care of Parkinson for getting that fifteen knocked off. I don't approve of some twit making the beginning of the year less than stellar."
Severus glanced over at Lucius then, and smiled so very slightly. "That's good. I still don't want to sleep there, because I've no liking of being smothered in my sleep, or spelled to death." He knew, after all, that he could do it to them if he put in the effort, so perhaps if they worked together... It was something to gnaw at his mind. "Professor Dumbledore said I should ask you about staying in the second year dorms."
"There's not enough room for another bed," Lestrange pointed out, lower lip looking slightly as if it was going to poke into a pout at any moment.
"No," Lucius drawled. "There isn't. However, I wouldn't be averse to sharing my own, as it's large enough, Severus. Bring your things later."
"You'll let me?" He'd hoped, but hoping and expecting were separate entities. "I hardly move, so I won't disturb you..."
"Don't worry, HE'S The disturbing one," Lestrange muttered. "Malfoys are all perverts."
"Stop while you're behind, Nordstrom." Lucius's voice was pure steel as he turned to look at the other boy. "Or I'll show you pervert."
"I'll skip out on that..." Lestrange darted a glance over to Severus. "You deserve to get along with him, Snape..."
"I think I'm lucky." Severus finished his eggs, and then decided to simply watch them.
Lucius's mouth curled up with amusement. "I'm sure you are. After all..." He paused, tilted his head to the side. "Well, you likely should have been here last year, anyway. You know more than some of the sixth years." Though not more than Lucius himself, of course. Malfoys were all trained in magical arts from the time they could walk.
"I know more than you think." It wasn't threatening at all, or even bragging. Just a proud little statement, from a boy who knew he knew a great deal. He shifted, sitting on one foot, and looked over at Lucius again, with that same curious gaze of the day before. "All sorts of potions things from Grandfather and lots of Dark Arts stuff, too."
"Well, we'll know by the end of the day just how much you know, won't we? If that's so, Professor Hecate will adore you," Lucius purred as Parkinson came in, also clutching a chocolate frog. "Hmmm."
The edges of Severus's mouth curled a little in cool delight of the same sort he'd had when he'd been mutilating the frog the night before. He stayed silent until Parkinson came near, to sit down. "Did you have a nice talk?"
"Yeah, and you're going to get it, Snape," the other boy said, poking out his tongue.
"I most sincerely doubt that, Parkinson," Malfoy said from across the way. "And I will be taking those fifteen points out of your hide."
"Touch me again, Parkinson, and I'll give you a beak to go with your intelligence." Severus only spared Parkinson a glance. Then he shifted to pull his satchel into his lap, digging for his schedule. The first class of the day was... Double Charms. He glanced at that again, to make sure it was right, then folded the sheet away. How dull, and it was almost time for class.
"Do eat up, Parkinson," Lucius said almost sweetly. "It's time for... what is it that first years have now? Oh, yes. Charms. You've nearly missed breakfast."
"Professor Hecate gave me this, to make up for you shoving your bony legs where they don't belong," Parkinson sneered at him, opening the chocolate frog's box.
Severus schooled a smile from his lips, and cast only glances from the corners of his eyes.
"How remarkable, Parkinson. You'd best eat it before it jumps away on you," Lucius drawled.
"I will." Parkinson smiled defiantly, then tossed it back into his mouth, and bit.
Severus was glad that he was a few plates down, because right away, Parkinson spit it back up, and chased it with heaving, retching noises.
"Perhaps next time, you'll think twice about stealing other people's chocolate and doing terrible things to it?" came the absolutely saccharine suggestion from Lucius's lips. The sound of retching answered all on its own, and the blond laughed. "Well, we'd all better get to class. We have Dark Arts..." Crabbe and Goyle grumbled. "...and you know how Hecate gets pissed off when we're late."
"The Charms classroom is... which way?" Severus asked, standing with them when they stood.
"Up four flights and on the right in the fourth corridor," Goyle replied. "I think."
Grey eyes rolled. "Come on, just follow us. The DADA classroom is down the third corridor."
"Things would be easier to find here if the stairs didn't move," Severus sighed, pacing beside them easily on the way out. "Is there a why to the stairs moving, or do they just do it?"
"They're just fond of it. If you like, I'll allow you to borrow my copy of 'Hogwarts: A History', and you can see how they were enchanted, if you like," Lucius offered.
Life seemed oddly good, with that very simple offer. Severus nodded to it, mentally filing away the many things that had made his being sent to Hogwarts less of a horrifying thing than he'd suspected it would be. There were still an awful lot of people, but that had to be overcome as it was. Lucius was nice. If there was just one person nice to him that way -- two, counting Professor Dumbledore -- his life felt most complete. "I'd like that."
"Come on. Let's go to class," Lucius said, and they all headed up the stairs.
Severus's first class, as it turned out, was shared with the Gryffindors. The room was already partially full of members from both Houses, and the difference was clear to be seen by all from the start. The Slytherins were all much quieter than the Gryffindors, it seemed, for the lot of them were making enough racket to wake the dead, or at least conceivably a few ghosts. The boy with glasses was tossing some sort of folded parchment back and forth with another black-haired boy near the back of the room, and even when it whacked another student, neither of them apologized.
Severus glared at them, and then scanned the front row of seats. Full already. Taken, no doubt, by people who just wanted to look smarter. Sitting in the front of class would sadly not make up for deep, unshakable stupidity. Severus slipped quietly into a third-row seat, and turned around to watch the Gryffindors for a moment.
It gained him the smack of that little triangular-folded piece of parchment right between his eyes.
"Oh! Hey, sorry, give that back, please?" the black-haired boy said, reaching out for it.
He'd caught it in his hand though, and was looking at it in his palm. Folded up just enough to act as if it were a ball of some sort. Makeshift games that the black-haired boy would probably carry on all class. Severus didn't want to be distracted or smacked with it again, he was sure of it. His hand closed into a small, tight fist, crunching it. "Sorry, no."
"Why you little... Little TWERP!" the boy said, face flushing slightly with anger, arms akimbo.
"Hey, let it go, Sirius. I'll just make us another one," the boy with glasses said, looking at Severus coolly. "It's not like he's going to stop us."
"I won't -- if I'm not hit with it again," Severus agreed, resting an elbow on the back of his chair, as he continued to look back at them. "What're your names?"
"I'm Sirius, and he's James. You're a Slytherin, aren't you?" the black-haired boy asked, tilting his head to the side.
Severus glanced at his robes for a moment, double checking that the Slytherin crest was still on them. It had appeared magically over night, but it was there with a clear purpose, just as the odd green hue his clothes had. "I hope I am," he drawled, looking back up at them both.
"I heard Slytherins were all slimy liars and that you lived in dungeons full of mold," the boy with glasses said. "Is it true?"
"No. I'm very honest, and the dorms are cleaner than this classroom." He gave it a slightly disdainful glance, then went on, "I heard Gryffindors were grass stupid, and that your tower has bars on the windows so you don't fall out. Is it true?"
"Why you little...!"
The boy with the glasses grinned at him. "That was pretty good. Not that we believe you, of course, because that would be a lie you just told, as all Slytherins are liars." It was said with great amusement, though. "What's your name?"
"Severus Snape. I'd spell it, but I'm not sure you dumb Gryffindors would know what to do with all of those letters." He seemed impossible to rile, tossing back banter as quick as they tossed it to him. It was... almost fun. Was that what sport was?
"What kind of name is Severus??" Sirius asked, nose wrinkling. "Man, and I thought my parents saddled me with a nasty one..."
"It could always have been worse," James pointed out with a shrug. "It could have been... I don't know... Maledictus or something."
"It's a family name." He'd been named after his great-grandfather, just like that man's great-grandfather before him. A bit of a twisted tradition, but he was very comfortable with his name. It sounded... sibilant to his own ears. "Sirius. Isn't that the dog-star?"
"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "But at least it's not Severus. Or Maledictus," he admitted even as a short, white-haired man climbed atop a pile of books at the front of class.
"Woof, woof." Severus's odd, final words to Sirius and James as he turned back around in his seat, and put some of his books on his desk. It was a pity that they'd be doing elementary things. That stomachache fixing charm had been good, though, and it was relatively simple. So perhaps he'd stumble across a few new things during the term...
He'd just have to wait and see.
Summer had been brilliant, with tons of nothing to do except read and eat and occasionally sleep.
Severus was very glad that it was over.
Of course, he was a little uncertain about the companions who'd joined him in his cabin on the Hogwarts Express. One fellow seemed as if he was falling asleep and he had strange, golden eyes that made him just a bit nervous. The other looked something like a rat.
They were both Gryffindors.
Second years, he guessed, because they were already wearing their robes and didn't look so lost as the first years. But he himself felt a little lost -- he'd seen neither hide nor hair of Lucius, or his two defenders. Severus mused to himself that this year he'd probably go back to sleeping in the dorm with the others of his year. They were no small amount scared of him... But it still depended entirely on Lucius. He'd lost a week of sleep the first week of summer because of a change in sleeping habits, from waking up beside nothing at all. So part of him yearned for independence, and the other part wanted to stay with the now third years that he considered friends. Lucius's bed was soft and comfortable; many an hour had been wasted there talking, scribbling homework, and torturing animals -- both candy and real.
"You're a quiet one, aren't you?" That was the mousey one, a shortish boy with a bad haircut sitting beside the gold-eyed one. Severus glanced up from his text of Forbidden Spells throughout the Ages.
"Perhaps."
"I'm Remus Lupin," the other boy said, holding out his hand politely. "It's nice to meet you."
Overly polite, nearly rehearsedly so, Severus noted as he leaned forwards almost absently, and took the offered fingers. They were warm and supple, as he shook them, compared to those on his own thin hand. "Severus Snape. And I'm not sure if it is nice to meet you or not."
Remus blinked almost audibly, and the rat-like boy beside him snorted. "You're polite," he said sarcastically. "I'm sure it isn't a pleasure to meet you."
"I've never strained to make it so," Severus murmured, as he drew his hand back. Both hands settled neatly atop the book on his lap, and he head tipped down a little as he looked at them both. "You're Potter's friends, aren't you?"
"Ah, yes," Remus said solemnly. "We're friends of James's, I think he and Sirius are about somewhere..."
Severus had been unable to find Lucius and the others, but that was because he'd already almost missed the train. There had been muggles standing right in front of the entrance to the platform, and he certainly wasn't going to try it without a good running start. Remus and the rat-boy must've been late, too, to have ended up sitting with a Slytherin.
"You must've been in charms, too," Severus observed. The last day of the spring semester he remembered very well, and hopefully so would Parkinson, who he'd shrunk down and shoved in his pocket for an hour. It had been much to the delight of the class and Professor Flitwick.
"Yes. I sat near the front," Remus answered a little shyly as Peter stood up, frowning, his face twisted unpleasantly.
"I'm going to find James and Sirius," he declared, tromping towards the door.
"Don't bring them back here." Severus's warning tone was a firm one, as he shifted the ancient text languidly to set it in the seat in front of him. Then he leaned forwards a little more, looking at the gold-eyed boy. "You don't seem like them. You haven't thrown anything. Or started name-calling."
"Well, no. Why should I?" Remus asked him, tilting his head to the side. "You haven't tossed anything at me, after all."
"I don't do things like that. That's Potter and Black's styles..." His voice dipped distastefully, a show of equal distaste for the other two boys. "You've very quiet in class. I didn't notice you." Not more than enough to know he was a Gryffindor, one of them. Past that, he at least knew most people's names -- it helped him to know names, for whatever purpose.
"They're not so bad," Remus said quietly. "Really nice, actually, once you get to know them. You don't seem so bad, either, for a Slytherin."
"Does that mean I'd be horrible if I were a Hufflepuff?" Severus shifted his legs, a bit restless. Remus was something new to him, and he tended to be restless around newer things. A Gryffindor acting like a human being -- how odd. "I've always wondered why you Gryffindors think you're so special. Professor Dumbledore doesn't act like that."
"I don't guess you would be," Remus agreed. "But if you were a Hufflepuff, you wouldn't be Slytherinish, would you?" He wasn't entirely certain whether Slytherinish was a word or not, but it was the best he could come up with by way of description. "Professor Dumbledore is nice. I hear he's going to be Headmaster this year and we're going to have a new Transfiguration teacher."
"That means you've lost the Head of your House, haven't you?" He'd known for certain, at the end of the last semester, that Dumbledore was going to be the headmaster. It would have bothered him to think of the strange old man as leaving the school entirely. Despite being the Head of Gryffindor, he was nice to Severus in the same ways that Lucius was. Two friends out of an entire school of people, and having those two people delighted him. No sense of loss or lacking because he wasn't one of those popular boys. Severus was pleased with the way things were.
"Mmm," Remus agreed. "They say that the new Head will be a woman. McGonagall, I think her name is, or something like. I hope she'll be nice."
"I'd hope the same, were I a Gryffindor." And as a Slytherin, he hoped she'd be stricter and take more points from the Gryffindors -- like Professor Hecate was always willing to do. "I'm just a Slytherin, though." He glanced to his book again, half-wanting to pick it up again, and half-wanting to talk more. Something niggled at the back of his mind, tugging there. "Are students in your dorm allowed to go where they wish within the house area?"
"How do you mean?" the other boy asked, hair tumbling into his eyes. "You mean like, into the girls' dorms or something? No, we don't do that, just the common room and our dorm rooms, really..."
"Really? How strange. Why aren't you allowed? Slytherins have free reign of the house area, as long as everyone behaves..." It simply struck him as odd -- to think that in another house, he would've had to have stayed with the other first years.
"Really??" That seemed to intrigue Remus for a moment. "Well, I like everyone in my dorm, so I guess I don't mind. But why would Slytherins be allowed and no one else be, I wonder?"
"I've no idea." He shifted a little, to lean back in his seat. Absently, he tucked one long leg under himself. "I sleep in the third year dorm. Professors Dumbledore and Hecate said I could -- that's why I thought you Gryffindors had free reign."
Remus only shrugged, though, and continued to look at him. "Maybe you're a special case. Sometimes, they have people they do things for, I think. Depends."
"Oh." Now he looked less curious, and more displeased with himself for sounding stupid. "Well, they'd ought to tell the special cases that they are that."
"Maybe all Slytherins are special cases," Remus said, catching on that Severus wasn't entirely happy. "I wouldn't know, after all. I'm a Gryffindor."
The other boy just frowned, though not particularly at Remus. What was he doing, talking to the gold-eyed boy, anyway? "Your friend's been gone for a bit. You'd better look for him."
"Peter? Oh, he'll do just fine on his own," Remus replied, shrugging. "I'm comfortable here."
The lady with the trolley came by outside just then, pausing to peer in at them. "Boys? Chocolate Frog? Every Flavor Beans?"
Severus was quick to rise and nod to her. "Three chocolate frogs, ma'am." One for then, one for whenever, and one for him to show a Lucius a spell he'd picked up over the holiday. He shoved his hand into a pocket of his robes, and pulled out the right amount of silver.
"Do you have just a bar of chocolate?" Remus asked politely, pulling out his own little pouch of money.
"Of course, dearie, the best from Honeydukes, right here. That'll be a sickle for the three frogs and fifteen knuts for the chocolate bar, sweet."
Fifteen knuts wasn't very much, so Severus dropped the total amount in her hand before Remus could even fumble open the strings of his bag. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Thanks," Remus said, smiling at him. "You shouldn't have done that, but it was very nice of you. I like chocolate a lot. You?"
Severus handed him the bar once the woman had given him his extra knuts back, and gestured with his other hand. Thin fingers strained to properly hold the three chocolate frogs. "Grandfather never lets me have sweets. I've gone without all holiday, and that's far too long." Two boxes were set atop his book, the third he opened as soon as he was seated again. "Lucius shares his with me, but that's still not the same as buying your own."
"You like it better when you can take care of yourself," Remus said, nodding approval as he, too, settled down. "Me, too, I think..."
"Hey, Moony!"
That voice brought both boys' attention to the door, now open again. "What are you doing here with him?" Sirius asked, sneering at Severus.
Severus's fingers, which had been carefully lifting the chocolate frog from its box, tightened. It was a twitch of motion in lean muscles, but one back leg snapped cleanly off the frog. Then the spark of distaste and anger at being disturbed mellowed. His fingers fell under his control again, and they popped the leg half into his mouth, so the foot and lower half dangled from his mouth while he sucked the top. "Sitting here, I believe."
"Ew..." That was James, his gaze vaguely horrified. "Snape, that's just disgusting, you silly twat!"
"That's worse than disgusting," Sirius agreed, and Remus shrugged at them, or perhaps it was at Severus.
"It's only chocolate," the golden-eyed boy told them.
"It's good that one of you knows the difference between a chocolate frog and a real one." Severus was letting it melt slowly in his mouth as he talked. The melting bit of frog-shaped chocolate was garnering more attention than they were, as was obvious from the way his eyes didn't focus on any particular one of them.
"My, my. What a lovely little gathering of Gryffinbrats. Severus, have you started collecting the lot of them?" came a drawl from out in the hallway.
"They've wandered into my cabin," Severus confessed. His attention, waning as it had been, snapped to the doorway. Lucius. A summer had been too long, despite the odd letters passed between them. His Grandfather hadn't been at all pleased to see Lucius's owl, and had made Severus stop writing back in attempts to discourage Lucius from writing at all. "Shall I make them go?"
"No, but why don't you come along? Crabbe, Goyle, get the brats out of the way, won't you?"
"Hey!!" Sirius yelped as one of the bigger boys shoved him forward. "You asshole!"
It took Severus only a moment to gather the few things he had with him -- candy and books -- and stand to press past the Gryffindors. He did spare a pointed inclination of his head to Remus, and a faint smile that was obscured mostly by the curtain of his hair that slipped out from behind one ear. Remus seemed all right, for a Gryffindor -- at least he had brains about him.
"I'm glad you found me, Lucius," he was commenting even before he was out in the hallway.
"Well, you seemed quite lost, surrounded by those hoodlums. Really, Severus. One should be more careful, they're a lot of little Mudbloods and muggle lovers," the blond sniffed, turning to head back down the hall.
"There were only two of them when the train started," he sighed. "Then they just seemed to crawl out of the wood..."
"Better that than from under a ROCK!" Sirius called down after them.
"Don't mock your betters, boy," Lucius said evenly, glancing back. "Goyle, Crabbe, please tend to the matter." That taken care of, he swept on, moving two cars up before slipping into a cabin with Severus just behind him. "Nasty, that Black."
"He and Potter are foul-ups -- I told you how charms class was." Severus closed the door, then sat down beside Lucius in the cabin. "How was your holiday?"
"Long and boring, particularly after you started ignoring my owls." Pale pink lips poked out into a sulk, grey eyes sparking resentment at him. "I'll assume that was your grandfather and not you. The benefit of the doubt, Severus."
No guilt reflected back to Lucius in steady black eyes as Severus met that grey gaze. "He wouldn't let me reply. He wouldn't even let me see them after a while -- tossed them into the fireplace. Even my recovery spells couldn't make handwriting out of them."
"I'll accept that." Mostly because he knew it to be true; he'd flown after his owl one night to see what was happening, and witnessed it himself, but contrition was an excellent tool to use against someone, if it was applicable. Unfortunately, Severus was so incredibly lacking in morality that guilt was unlikely to work well for him.
It had been worth a shot.
"That being said, are you going to try out for Quidditch? There's an opening on the team this fall," Lucius continued smoothly.
"I do enjoy watching the game, Lucius, but..." He pulled the rest of that chocolate frog leg into his mouth and chewed it before snapping off another limb to offer to Lucius.
"But?" Lucius asked, accepting the jerking little leg and popping it into his mouth to bite viciously.
"Someone would aim a bludger at my head, and then I'd be done in. Madam Pomfrey would finish me off herself, because she already sees me far too often." Any excuse at all, even if he had to use an authority figure as best he could.
"Severus, I've seen you fly and you do it quite well. We need a chaser. That's what beaters are for, you know -- to keep the bludgers off of you," Lucius informed him firmly. "You can fly rings around those Gryffindor Mudbloods."
Chaser. Chasers caught the quaffle, and scored goals. They didn't have to find the snitch, or deal with those painful, heavy and murderous balls. Which meant he could put everything but the relatively easy task of catch quaffle from his mind. And he wasn't as bad off physically as he'd been his first year. He was still small, despite the bits of height he garnered monthly. Thin, but... Hogwarts made him go outside, and in the gardens he could run and hunt for herbs. He hadn't had that chance before, and he hadn't let his grandfather take that from him entirely over the summer. "I'll try out. But you know very well that doesn't mean I'll be chosen."
The expression on Lucius's face was triumphant, however, as if he knew something that Severus didn't. "Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?" he said with a little smirk, and he seemed quite pleased with himself. "Coming in with us again this year?"
So the offer still stood. Severus didn't bother to hide his pleasure at that, as he carefully twisted the head off the chocolate frog's body. The feel of chocolate warmed from touch smearing over his fingers was a pleasant one. He popped its head into his mouth, and chewed, absently looking at his dirtied hand. "Yes, I'd like to."
"Wonderful. Mother's sent the loveliest white satin sheets this year," Lucius almost purred. "You'll adore them." There was just something about sharing them with Severus that absolutely made him shiver with the thought of it.
"Your bed is always very comfortable. I'm sure that I shall." For a moment, he let his tongue linger over the roof of his mouth, tasting, savoring that chocolate. It was heavenly, in the way that he'd read it described in muggle books he'd read. Chocolate to eat after sad months without, and Lucius to talk to again. And his bed to sleep in. The older boy had to know how pleased he was to be able to share a bed with him.
"You have chocolate on you, Sev," Lucius whispered, leaning forward. His thumb brushed lightly at the indention between nose and mouth, tenderly removing the faint traces of sweet that lay there.
It probably thrilled Lucius, Severus knew, to have the smaller boy startle at that touch, even ever so slightly. It wasn't the sort of 'don't touch me' startle that Severus gave every so often when someone brushed him in passing, or when he jerked himself back from bodily contact. It was just a pleasant thing he hadn't been expecting. "Oh. I should like to be neat when we get there -- thank you." And to further his point, he decided to lick the chocolate from Lucius's fingers.
That action made the blond boy smiled, and he pulled back just as Crabbe and Goyle pushed open the door to their compartment and slipped inside. "Took care of 'em," Goyle said, shrugging. "None of 'em seemed to think to use spells, they kept trying to fight back. Suited us fine. Too stupid to realize they couldn't win that way, I reckon." Coming from Goyle, that said quite a lot.
"Thank you, Gristian," Lucius said warmly. "Pyrrhus."
Yes, this was how Severus liked his life to be. He offered the rest of the headless, twitching chocolate frog to his companions, while he thumbed to a page in the text he'd been reading. "Have you seen this numbing curse, Lucius...?"
"The one with the ice properties?" the blond Slytherin asked, shifting to sit beside him so that the bench across from them would be free for the other two. "Show me."
Severus shifted nearer, book on his lap, so that his knees touched the other boy's. Then he proceeded to demonstrate it on his own hand, and had removed it a few times with a warming spell by the end of their ride.
"Oh," Parkinson said flatly as the Sorting began. "YOU'RE back again."
Bulstrode rolled his eyes. He, at least, had learned that it was a very bad idea to piss off Severus, and a worse one to piss off Lucius. If not more brains, Bulstrode at least had more common sense than Parkinson.
"There's no reason I wouldn't be back," Severus told him, shifting his body a little to make it easier to focus his attention on Parkinson.
"We could hope," Parkinson grumbled, and Avery grunted an answer beside him.
"Someone shorted you of brains," Severus decided crisply. "You haven't been snorting potion fumes, have you? Oh, and don't even think of attacking me like you started last term off. There won't even be a chance."
"Oh, yeah? Why's that?"
"'cause Crabbe and Goyle are six feet away," Avery muttered under his breath.
"I'm not even going to make an attempt to stay in the second year dorms this year -- I'm going to get my things and move again." The house-elves had a habit of sorting everyone's things into the proper places, which was annoying to Severus, because he didn't plan on staying in his 'proper' place.
"I had no expectations otherwise," Lucius informed him from further down the table. "Shift over," he told Crabbe, who promptly began pushing others down a seat and down a seat until there was space for Severus between the two of them. They'd parted into years for the Sorting, but Lucius was already sick of the lack of conversation.
Severus turned his head a little, and cracked a small smile for Lucius. Then he glanced back to Parkinson, idly. "Do you want to be shrunk again?"
The other boy's eyes flew wide. "You little prick! Malfoy can't protect you forever!"
"I can protect myself, Parkinson." Severus made a vague gesture with his wand, that made Parkinson's body tense. "You know that. How stupid can you be to keep bothering me?"
Gristian grinned at that. "Pretty stupid, I'd say," he snickered, and coming from Goyle it was twice the insult as if Lucius or Severus had said it. The black-haired boy just nodded, smiling a little to himself.
"You see? Everyone but you has seemed to realize it, Parkinson. It doesn't benefit us for you to go after me -- go after other houses instead. It's not smart to in-fight."
"Parkinsons have never been known for their brains," Lucius replied with a sneaky little smirk. "More for their resemblance to Pekinese."
With the flattish, upturned nose that Parkinson had, and his in-drawn chin, it was a perfect comparison. Severus smirked a little to himself -- he'd been about to say something, but there was a familiar sort of throat-clearing from the front of the room.
Dumbledore -- still there, in his usual eccentric robes. Only he was the headmaster now. Severus hoped fervently that the odd man didn't turn funnier than he already was.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts." That was met with an explosion of applause from the Gryffindor table that made most of the Slytherins roll their eyes even as Dumbledore went on.
"Dorks," Crabbe snickered, offering Severus a piece of candy under the table. He had learned that the black-haired boy could be bribed with candy for help with homework, and that was quite a wonderful thing, indeed.
It wasn't really bribery, since Severus was well aware of the trade going on. He liked it -- and usually, he could get Crabbe to pay attention over his shoulder. So the older boy learned a bit, too. It was probably the only way he would, Severus had realized rather quickly. The piece of candy was taken gracefully, though Severus didn't fiddle with the paper wrapper yet. He was still watching the new headmaster.
"Just a few words before the feast begins. Blubber! Nitwit! Toad! Rutabaga!" The food popped onto the table, and he waved a hand dismissively. "Carry on!"
"He's an odd, odd man," Lucius said sternly, and there was no doubt that he didn't like him. He'd never been particularly fond of the man before, of course; he was a Gryffindor, after all. The damning thing of it was, though, that he was very fond of Severus, and Lucius was most covetous of his friend. It drove him to fits of jealousy, and he hated it.
"I wouldn't think to argue that," Severus said. Dumbledore was an odd man who helped Severus in the classes that irked him -- occasionally History of Magic. Binns was depressingly boring, and Severus's mind tended to blank when he was bored, or he started to go through more interesting things in his thoughts. "He does let me browse the restricted section." Conditionally -- once a week, he had to show Dumbledore a bit of what he'd taught himself, in exchange for being allowed to continue browsing. He wondered if that offer would still stand, now that Dumbledore was a very busy headmaster.
"You could probably get half of those books sent from home, you know." Lucius's vague resentment showed, though it was certainly not resentment that Severus received privileges. It was, instead, jealousy that someone other than him granted them.
Severus shook his head as he popped into his mouth the hard candy that Crabbe had given him. "Grandfather would know what I was looking for. He doesn't want what happened to my parents to happen to me."
"That won't happen to you." Lucius's voice had gone hard. "I'll see to it that it doesn't."
"There isn't any reason for someone to do that to me," Severus reminded him, picking up a large cookie. He pressed it into Lucius's hand, hoping it would soothe down the sudden sharpness of his friend's demeanor.
It seemed that Malfoy was willing to accept that offer, for his expression softened slightly and he smiled with a strange intensity at Severus. "It's just a nasty thought. I knew your parents."
"Well... I've never really remembered them." He supposed he should miss them, and he had, those first nights... except it had faded entirely with time. Now Severus was only vaguely aware that he'd had parents; Grandfather had raised him, had been the most memorable family to him.
Lucius probably regretted pushing conversation that way, because Severus sank into thoughtful contemplation for the remainder of the feast. It was only when the dismissal came that he drifted out of it again, munching idly on a cupcake just as he had the year before. "I'm going to get my things..."
"I'll come with you," the blond offered, watching that flickering tongue with even more interest than he had the year before. It was... intriguing. Just as intriguing as the presence of a body beside him in his bed as his own hands had wandered, idly, under his pajamas.
It was impossible to tell if Severus had ever done that. Or if such thoughts, curious and impulsive, had even stolen across his brilliant mind. At night, Severus slept heavily, often curled towards the interior of the bed. He liked to watch Lucius when he woke up, if he woke up before the other boy; no shame ever entered those watching black eyes, no guilt. And no intent that was clear... just as there seemed to be no intent in Severus finishing his cupcake. "You'll have to carry my book-sack, then."
"Tch. Slavedriver." It was lightly mocking, but they both knew that Lucius would carry nothing for anyone else no matter who they were or what 'orders' they gave. "All right. I'll carry it for you, but you have to do something for me."
Then both stood up, but not before Severus picked up a handful of tiny splinter cookies. They weren't as sweet as cupcakes, but the almond flavor lingered like chocolate on his lips. "Do what, Lucius?"
"Oh, just a favor. Nothing too spectacular," Lucius said with a secretive look that as good as said that it wasn't something to be discussed in public.
Severus knew those looks well, and delighted in their implications. "All right. You've never asked a spectacular favor out of me, yet, so this can't be bad. Not any worse than having to help Crabbe with his potions final." Wordlessly, a cookie was offered. There was a clot of other Slytherins just ahead of him, but they turned and took a longer route that promised to grant them peace.
"I don't think it's that bad, no," Lucius returned, matching him step for step. "Much better than that, in fact. Sort of a treat for both of us, when you get right down to it..."
"So neither of us will end up in trouble?"
Lucius thought about it for a moment, gave him one of those smiles. "Not if we don't get caught, Severus."
Black eyes narrowed in thought, and one eyebrow lifted just a little. "I'm not going to put anything in Professor Binns's water."
"I didn't ask you to," was the almost innocent reply. There was no one near them, no one following, no footsteps in the hall. "All right, then, you want to know?"
Severus stopped in front of a suit of armor that was resting against the wall, and nodded his head. "Yes. That way I can decide if I should just carry all of my things myself. Two trips to the second year dorm, against one, and a trip to the headmaster..." Lucius looked mischievous, which told him far too little -- watching Lucius's face curl into an edgy smile was just a little worrisome, after all.
"Close your eyes, then," Lucius said, that smile turning into a full-fledged smirk, grey eyes suddenly sparkling with a deep and bothersome sort of devilment that screamed for all the world to see that he was up to something.
Severus knew he should've suspected something of Lucius. But all the other boy was probably going to do was put a mouse in his hands. Lucius knew very well that he liked all sorts of odd creatures, and didn't mind touching them.
"Don't turn me purple." Lucius had mentioned learning how to do that in one of the letters he had read over the summer, so Severus tossed that out on an odd thought, mostly amused. Black eyes closed so trustingly, in a way he'd only do for Lucius.
For a moment, the blond simply stood and looked at him, quietly perusing the small puckered lips, the nose that was almost too large for his face. It would have been if he hadn't possessed such a stubborn chin, such bright, curious eyes, and he almost regretted telling Severus to close them. Almost... Taking a deep breath, he leaned across the space between them and pressed his lips to those lovely, warm, pink ones he'd been watching since the train, his own parted just slightly as he did so, a tremor of nervousness running through him.
Severus felt it with a slight jolt of pressure against his mouth. Warm, dry against his mouth, and oddly interesting. He cracked his eyes open; it was impossible to focus, with Lucius's face so close to his, and warm breath puffing against the side of his cheek. That had so caught his attention that he missed his own exhaled 'oh', and the equally nervous, startled parting he gave.
It only lasted a few seconds and then Lucius pulled back slightly, one hand shifting to lightly touch Severus's shoulder. "I missed you," he said simply.
Missed him? Oh, so that was why Lucius had done that -- done that, and needed to get him away from other people to say it. "I missed you, too." Winter holiday hadn't been so bad, or very long at all. Two weeks spent reading and occasionally playing in the snow, compared to handfuls of weeks spent in summer warmth without Lucius. It was worsened, too, by finally knowing what it was like to have friends, and then not to have Lucius there with him all summer. In a bit of a rush, Severus re-closed the gap between them, hugging Lucius lightly. "I'm glad we're back in school."
"I'm glad you're going to stay with us again," Lucius whispered against his ear, the feel of Severus pressed tightly against him, almost face to face, making him tingle. "You'll love the sheets Mother sent, and there's new candy I brought with me, too. Bloodpops...." He laughed softly. "Very interesting candies, those. I don't know that you'll like them much."
Severus could feel his hair press against Lucius's cheek, crinkle against his ear just as Lucius's voice did. A bit of a smile tugged at his lips again, as he hugged Lucius just a bit more, before pulling back. "What're they like?" It was with a hand on Lucius's shoulder, just for a moment, that he goaded them to walking again. Somehow a proper reunion had set his nerves to thrumming along. It finally felt like the new year had begun.
"Disgusting things, all blood and sugar solidified. I sort of like them," Lucius confessed, pale skin prettily flushed as they walked along. "They have... Hm, what Mother calls a 'coming on' taste to them." Lucius's mother often had strange, quaint things to say, but she was very nice.
"What's that mean?" And Severus always asked for an interpretation of whatever she said. It was good to fall back to that routine.
"Oh, that she liked it rather much. You know mother's tastes are a bit odd." That was because Lucius's mother was half-Veela, not that many of the other students knew. It didn't make him any less a pureblood by any means, for Veela were considered a rare and wonderful thing to woo and wed, but Lucius preferred to keep a great many things to himself, a trait gained from his father. One never knew when such a thing might provide one with an advantage.
"Still, if you like them..." It was at least worth a try. And if they were bad, Lucius would still like them, and that was perfectly fine. As long as good candy didn't go to waste. "Your mother has passed on a lot to you."
The smile Lucius gave him was brilliant. "Her beauty, her charm, her temper... Indeed, Severus, she has, but I'm still a Malfoy at the core of it. It's good that people occasionally forget, because it gives me the opportunity to remind them." Lucius greatly enjoyed that.
It was hard to forget that Lucius was a Malfoy at the root of it, because that was why Grandfather wouldn't let him talk with Lucius over the holiday. "It's fun to watch you remind people who do forget, usually." Sometimes, it seemed that Lucius forgot that he was a Malfoy, too. The odd hum from the kiss and the embrace that followed still ran through Severus's body.
"Come on. Let's fetch your things and go to bed." The thought of it made his mouth curl slightly with pleasure, his head tilted to the side.
"Do you think Crabbe did his summer assignments?" Severus sounded a bit curious as they turned down a set of winding stairs that would take them into the depths of the dungeons.
"Does he ever?" Lucius drawled. "Goyle will be struggling to do his tonight. Crabbe, however, will go straight to bed and not care."
"Maybe I can help Goyle a bit before we sleep. I... almost missed hearing Lestrange complain that I'm there." Severus kept one hand on the banister as they went, fingers playing over the smooth wood as they circled down and down.
"He's had a busy summer," Lucius drawled. "Perhaps he got over it."
"As Parkinson didn't?" Severus stopped at the very bottom of the well, looked over at Lucius as he so often did. The second year dorms weren't far now, and he already knew how to get to the room he'd share with the third-years. "I don't know why he has to be asinine."
Lucius knew precisely why Parkinson was such an ass, and likely the reason that Lestrange was, as well. Severus's parents had been high in the ranks -- almost as high as his own father -- and Severus was, therefore, more likely to win the Dark Lord's approval than they. "Jealousy," he said simply. "Petty, but they're petty sorts of people, aren't they?"
"Yes." Twice as petty in Severus's eyes, because he was unaware, still, of his own parent's involvement in whatever they'd been involved in. There were whispers, of course, and murmurs, and what he'd gleaned from his own research, but there wasn't any way to form it into a coherent thought. His parents... had died serving Voldemort. And he knew nothing else, even from his Grandfather.
Petty, petty people, in Severus's eyes, because he didn't know what they knew, and didn't try. And now he was going to have to dart into his room and... well. He was brilliant and better than them, without question.
"Come on, Lucius," Severus said, just before he opened the door to the dorm. "You'll get the knapsack, won't you?"
For a moment, the blond boy's glacial gaze softened, warmed, turned a muted, delicate argent. "You gave me what I wanted, so yes," he agreed. "I'll help you with the rest, too, if you like." It wasn't an offer he would make many people, as he often didn't even do such things for himself. That was, after all, why he had Gristian and Pyrrhus.
"Thank you." Severus said it genuinely, as he moved into the room with compass accuracy towards his bed, and his things. Clothes were quickly packed out of the dresser, back into his trunk. The house-elves would learn eventually, wouldn't they? Sometimes his laundry disappeared to the wrong dorm, thanks to the silly creatures, and he had to retrieve it.
The other boys in the dorm-room were blandly, purposefully ignored as Severus went back to quickly packing things. "Pussy," Parkinson muttered under his breath only moments before finding himself with four white paws and ears.
"I do hope that was the proper answer to your request," Lucius said sweetly. It wasn't a nice spell he'd used, and it wasn't one a boy his age was supposed to know yet, but oh, it felt nice to do that to Parkinson!
Severus did things like that all the time, without even a flicker of worry. After all, why worry if he could undo it? Severus looked up and over to Parkinson, who was staring numbly at his white paws.
"Let me fix that," he declared, after he cinched closed his bag, and offered it to Lucius. A sharp flick of his wand, and the white fur turned a dingy shade of black. "There. That suits you better."
"Show off," Avery, one of the other boys Severus didn't have to room with, muttered.
Malfoy only laughed, though, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "Are you ready, Severus?" he asked with amusement, ignoring the frantic mews Parkinson kept giving.
"Yes. It was a long train-ride, and I'm tired." He closed narrow fingers over the handle of his trunk, and dragged it behind him. The gliding spell he'd cast on it worked better than any muggle wheels could hope to work.
They wandered out of the room easily, leaving Parkinson behind mewing frantically. "I can imagine. I'll bet all you did this summer was sit inside and read. Tell the truth, Severus," Lucius teased, flitting him a look from beneath blond lashes. "You didn't even go outside once since your grandfather won't let you into his precious gardens."
"I went out a few times," the younger boy denied. "He let me go into the gardens and play. Though I did spend most of it reading." Severus glanced over to Lucius, as they started their walk to the other dorm. Golden lashes seemed to slice the clarity of grey eyes, eyes that Severus liked to look at without hindrance.
"Thrice," Lucius teased him. "You went out thrice."
The horror of it was that Lucius was true -- Severus couldn't do anything but laugh, a soft, and thoroughly pleased noise, as he tripped ahead of Lucius down the stairs. "But I spent the entire day outside each time."
"Oh, well, I suppose that makes up for it," the blond teased him, momentarily using a leviosa spell to lift Severus's trunk over every sixth step on the way down. "Lots of sun you must have gotten those three days."
Severus simply jumped over those sixth steps. "And I slept on my balcony -- that must count for something."
"A lot, actually. If I'd known, I'd have come to see you," Lucius said, and that was true. He would have come, for he'd been awfully bored without Severus to challenge him.
"Oh -- well, I'll do it next summer, so..." Severus looked over at his third year friend, as they reached the hallway proper. "We could do that over Christmas, but it's far too cold to sit out there for hours and hours. But how would you get there? We're not allowed to practice magic over the holiday." And it had nearly driven him mad. All of those spells that he'd only been able to mimic; all of those spells he cast sometimes on barely a thought.
Lucius smiled, gave him a wink as they headed down the hall to the hidden opening into what was now the third year dorms. "Pureblood," he announced, and it appeared, opening for them. Lucius had charmed it to do that during first year, apparently, wanting it hidden from others. "We could always just stay over holiday. Just you and me."
"Grandfather might not let me." Bookish as he was, he liked to see his grandson as often as he could, and Severus acquiesced to that wish with his usual grace. "I'd like to, though." Severus let Lucius enter the dorms first, hanging back with his trunk.
"So, ask. The worst he can do is say no."
"Say no to what?" Lestrange asked, looking at them. He seemed a bit grumpy, but also resigned to the fact that Severus would be in the room with them whether he particularly liked it or not.
"My staying here over Christmas holiday." Severus lifted the trunk with a tug, over the bottom lip of the entryway. From there, he knew exactly where he was supposed to put it: just beside Lucius's, at the end of Lucius's bed. He was sure that his trunk, vaguely sentient as it was, liked Lucius's trunk as much as he liked being there himself.
"Oh, Merlin's balls, Lucius!" Lestrange snapped out, looking vaguely horrified. "He's only twelve!"
"Put your dick back where it belongs and keep it out of your thought processes," the blond snarled. "It's none of your consideration, nor is it what you think, you ridiculous twit!"
Severus looked over to Lestrange, as he pushed and tugged at his trunk to situate it perfectly. "What do you mean by 'he's only twelve'? I'm old enough to stay here over Christmas holiday!"
Lestrange snorted. "For a smart boy, you're infinitely stupid." The creeping flush over pale white cheeks made him snicker, and it made Lucius take a step closer to him threateningly.
"I'm not stupid," Severus muttered, letting his trunk come off of the buffering spell. It fell the last inch it had been above the ground, with an ominous thud. Lestrange soon found the younger boy's black on black gaze on him. Why Lestrange seemed to enjoy bothering him -- rather like Parkinson -- was beyond him, but he wasn't going to let Lestrange get away with it. "I just don't know what you're going on about. You aren't making any sense." No more than Lucius's retort about not thinking with his dick.
"Don't worry," the other boy said, backing away from Lucius. "I'm sure it won't be much longer before you do. You won't even be able to hold out the whole year, will you, Veela?" It was snide, sharp, and it gained him Lucius's fist against the point of his chin, slamming him down onto his own bed. "Fuck!"
"Keep your mouth shut," Lucius hissed.
"Listen, Nordstrom, you shouldn't talk that way..." Goyle was closing a text book he'd been staring at, and rushed to back his friend up.
Things were the way that Severus expected them to be. Only, he felt a little confused, and lost. Lost wasn't a familiar feeling -- he knew more than enough to get by in any situation. Except, it seemed, for that particular one. "You're trying to start something," Severus muttered, absently pulling his wand from his sleeve. "Are you trying to threaten me? I can't tell, because you haven't made a bit of sense."
"Don't worry, little Severus," Lestrange sneered, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Lucius had hit a little higher than Nordstrom had thought, and his lip had split. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."
"Fuck off, Lestrange," Lucius said flatly. "Petty jealousy is such a trivial reason for you to die."
Severus was sure he'd figure it out. And when he did... well, he'd probably find there wasn't anything to figure out at all. Lestrange had a way of being asininely stubborn. Realizing that nothing would come of the confrontation other than irritation, Severus turned towards Lucius, tugged at his knapsack from the other boy's shoulder. "I'm going to go wash up," he explained, digging through it quickly for shampoo and toothpaste while it was still on Lucius's shoulder.
"Do that," Lucius said shortly, eyes never wavering from Lestrange. "We'll be here when you get back." Though whether Lestrange would be here or gone off to the infirmary, that was a totally separate issue. He wasn't included in Lucius's 'we'.
The black-haired boy had already slipped into his internal oblivion -- a tangle of thoughts, ideas, spells and potions mixtures to be sorted through. He grabbed his pajamas from his trunk, and walked towards the bath they shared with the fourth-years, now. Whatever happened while he was gone, it wasn't his concern. Lestrange had brought it down on his own head by insulting Lucius's heritage.
By the time he came back, Lestrange was gone -- no surprise there. The others had settled in, though Lucius was clutching one hand lightly over his eyes, not quite visibly upset, but neither entirely possessed of himself, either. Crabbe and Goyle both remained quiet and said nothing, as they were undoubtedly expected to do.
Severus set his things down atop his trunk, and padded quietly to what had become his side of the bed. He would broach the silence, as he always did for the sake of his curiosity. "Are you all right, Lucius?" Soft concern for his friend, as he knelt carefully on the bed, so as not to jostle it.
"Slight headache," Lucius announced, though his hand didn't shift. "The irritation of dealing with Lestrange after such a pleasant time of not having to listen to him whine and all that."
"I can brew you something for it," Severus whispered, shifting to crawl closer to his friend. Lucius had certainly been right about the new sheets. They were cool beneath his palms as he edged nearer, soft and sleek to the feel.
"Hm? Oh, no, that's all right. It's time to put the lights out now," he declared, and Goyle began gathering his homework together. "It's nothing a bit of sleep won't cure," Lucius told him, standing up and promptly stripping out of his clothing there and then. Modesty had never been a virtue of Lucius's, and Severus simply didn't know it was a virtue to begin with. Often, on the days that the dungeons became hot, the younger Slytherin would strip off to put on his pajamas bottoms, but he was so thin that it was often saner for him to conserve warmth and change after getting washed. So while Goyle was making an obvious attempt not to look, Severus didn't care at all. He'd been looking at Lucius to begin with, and wasn't going to stop looking at him. He was still like some figure from a fairy-tale book, pretty and warmly pale like the buttermilk the cook at Snape Manor was so fond of giving him, pure-toned with enough of a twist to make it miles more interesting than the usual sort.
The heat of grey eyes met his own inscrutable gaze, and Lucius's mouth tipped upward slightly in what was almost a smile before he slid into the bed in only his pajama bottoms, such a soft, thin cotton that they could be seen through with ease. "Ready for bed?" he asked. It seemed as though it was to the room in general, but it wasn't; it was without doubt meant for Severus.
"Yes." And without waiting, Severus pulled back the sheets to slip under them. Closing his hand over a fold of the fabric proved his first assumption about it twice as right. Soft as clouds caught in his fingers, chill as dissipating vapors. "This is very nice..." And such a light color. Any further animal experimentation would have to be done on the coverlet, or Lestrange's bed.
Malfoy slid into the bed with him just as Goyle blew out the last candle, and for a moment, they were apart by several feet, perhaps even inches, but then he felt Lucius close to him, warmth radiating from bare limbs, thin chest, legs that were not quite as long as Severus's. "Good night," the blond whispered, a breath of sound.
"Good night, Lucius." The drawl of the older boy's name seemed to hold the words 'I missed this' in its depths. Severus laid his cheek on the pillow, facing towards Lucius in the all encompassing darkness. It was such a good thing that summer was over at last.
Dumbledore looked at Severus thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose that we can continue as we did last year, Severus. You will show me what you learn, yes?"
"Yes, sir," Severus promised him. Eagerness was clear on his face, just as it had been when he'd given Dumbledore that dully-colored bouquet of flowers in the infirmary. Why he liked the often very silly old man, Severus couldn't say, and didn't wish to be bothered in doing so. There was just a... trust that he could grant, and did grant. "I plan on doing research on Veela first, though."
"Because of Mr. Malfoy, I assume. What do you think you will discover there, Severus?" the old man asked him with a little smile. "I hope that you are as eager to be his friend afterwards as you are now."
"I'd never not be his friend," Severus said a bit curiously. His head tilted slightly, and he looked at Dumbledore with appraising eyes. Lestrange had been trying to hint at something horrible, hadn't he? But here Dumbledore was, saying such odd things... "Nordstrom tried to say that there was something horrible about Lucius because of it. I just wanted to know what it is. I've no fear of Lucius."
"Veela are extraordinary creatures," the headmaster told him seriously, nodding. "Very hedonistic perhaps is the best way to phrase it, Severus. They are also very capable of a terrible anger. Mr. Malfoy is lucky to be affected by only a quarter of that blood, but I feel sure that it wears on him at times. I think perhaps you should begin by looking up Veela in the main library, Severus..."
"I don't think that would tell me what Lestrange was trying to insinuate. He said something about Lucius not being able to last a year, and something about me finding out soon enough." He was editing, with a purpose, as he talked. No need to start it from the beginning, or to say anything to the headmaster that could get people in trouble.
With a deep sigh, the older man rested both elbows upon his desk, fingers templing thoughtfully before him. "All right, then, Severus. Perhaps you should know...."
Severus folded his hands in his lap most patiently, looking at Dumbledore and waiting. For a second year, he had such bright, but cunning eyes; an intelligence that perhaps the rest of his body, and his own mental readiness, hadn't entirely caught up with. "If it's so grave, perhaps I should."
"We will discuss it at the same time next week, then," Dumbledore declared, scrawling out the note in green ink upon parchment that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. "Until then, Severus."
The black-haired boy slipped quietly from his chair, and reached for the note with his slender, delicate fingers. "Thank you, sir. If it can wait another week, then Lestrange was obviously wrong when he said Lucius would eat me whole while I slept." The edges of his mouth lifted a bit wryly; he hadn't believed Lestrange at all to begin with -- but it was gratifying to mention the boy's teases to teachers.
For a moment, he thought the old man would choke, but he only got a VERY strange smile in return. "Well, hopefully Mr. Malfoy won't be making any meals of you, Severus," he managed to get out, rather shocked. "Perhaps I should have words with Mr. Lestrange..."
Severus arched an eyebrow ever so slight, the opposite one dashing down over his pupilless eyes. "Thank you, sir. And... sir? I've learned not to put more than one candy in my mouth at a time. That keeps one from choking." It was the only thing he could come up with for the sudden wide-eyed, tight-throated look that the headmaster had taken on.
"Yes. Thank you, indeed. I'm overly fond of lemon drops, I think. At least they aren't Every Flavor Beans..." Dumbledore said dryly, letting Severus get away with thinking that was the cause of his problem.
It was probably easier on them both that way. Severus took his slip, and glided out of the headmaster's office, with a smile over his shoulder. He wondered just what he'd find in the restricted section on that topic, that was so horrible. It set his mind thrumming along with anticipation. Perhaps he could go down there after potions class, but before supper.
That would give him plenty of time to bone up on everything that he wanted to know.
Irma Pince looked at him with no small amount of panic in her wide, brown eyes. "Headmaster Dumbledore said that you were to have this book. This book IN PARTICULAR?" she questioned, waving her wand to test the permission slip for forgery.
The slip-thin boy looked up at her in purest concern for her intelligence. "It says it on my slip, Madam Pince. I talked about it with Professor Dumbledore this morning." Was she dense? It did say it right there, and whatever could be so wrong about the book he was supposed to look at? It was only a book, after all.
"Oh, goodness, but this book, it's..." Her face was flaming with color. "Oh, my goodness, me."
"Is there something wrong with it? What's it on, exactly? I'm looking for information on Veela." He stood on his toes, peering over the edge of her desk at her. She looked ill.
"Well, yes, but... but... Oh, goodness..." She seemed to have given up, for she took up her wand and moved into the restricted section, casting spells to open the way for her and withdrawing the book carefully, almost as if it would burn her fingers. "Mr. Snape, if I find that you have allowed anyone other than yourself to look at this book...!"
"I'll go find a quiet corner, Madam Pince." The same words he told her every time that he briefly checked out a stunning book -- either in comprehension level, or subject matter. There was a nice niche in the corner, at the far side of the 'sitting' area. He'd be left alone there, to read and figure out just what Professor Dumbledore had wanted him to come across in the book.
"Goodness, oh, goodness," she declared, lifting a thin book to fan her face even as he walked away from her desk.
Uncaring and unnoticing of anyone around him, Severus paced through the sitting area. His steps, pointed, targeted, carried him to his niche like a cleanly fired arrow. The cover was old, blue-dyed leather, delicately embossed and covered with a fine layer of dust that had settled over its exposed parts. Once Severus was seated, he blew the dust off the cover. Then he snugged himself nearer still into the corner, a shoulder buttressed against the wall, before he opened it.
/Veela, Voluptuous Vixens of the Wizarding World./ Well. That sounded promising, didn't it? It sounded something, anyway, and he turned the pages to peruse the table of contents.
Two hours later, he was fairly glued to the words, black eyes huge as he read. He was nearly two thirds of the way through, reading so quickly that his eyes seemed to shoot from side to side, so it was something of a surprise when Lucius's voice purred a hello in his ear.
"Busy much?"
Severus jolted more properly upright, and then very carefully closed the book. After all, he'd promised not to let anyone else read it; Lucius probably knew it all already. "Ah, not really, Lucius."
"What are you reading?" Lucius asked him, leaning over to look at the title. "Oh." That was a little flat, a little nervous, perhaps even a bit hurt.
Oh, no. He couldn't lose his only friend because of his own curiosity! Lucius was so quiet about it, so sensitive about the subject that perhaps... "I... Dumbledore told me to read it." That was lame, wasn't it? He looked back at Lucius, eyes still a bit wide from what he'd been reading. "I'm sorry. It doesn't change anything -- Lestrange was just being an ass, because there's nothing in here that scares me or could scare me, so he can just shut up about it." Voluptuous vixens indeed -- there were pictures in the book, of the Veela, and their ways of... hunting. Severus still felt a bit funny, strangely warm over what he'd read. Now he had to deal with that, and anxiousness over Lucius possibly being angry at him.
Pale pink lips compressed, Malfoy not quite looking at him. "Are you... bothered?" he asked finally, and it was obvious that he wasn't angry. He was just very distinctly worried that Severus would... he decided not to think about it, looking into those infinitely dark eyes. Lucius wasn't ashamed of who he was or of his mother, but he didn't want to lose Severus. There was just something about their friendship... something special.
Bothered? Severus glanced back to the book, then murmured, "No. It's interesting, but... why should I be bothered?" It had only explained that Veela were sensual creatures, and that maybe... Severus swallowed, still looking up at Lucius slightly anxiously.
"Read a little further," was the dry response, Lucius sitting down next to him and flipping the pages over to one of the later chapters on male Veela. "You might not want to crawl back in bed after that one. Lestrange was certainly intending to make you curious and make you worry about it," he sneered.
"I wasn't worried," Severus denied -- though he had been curious. A curiosity that he was unable to deny, as always. "I only wanted to know..." His fingers brushed over Lucius's hand as he stopped the other boy from turning any more pages. "I still trust you, Lucius."
"Are you entirely certain that's wise?" The question was just a little hard, but it didn't stop Lucius's fingers from turning to meet his own.
Black eyes peered up at grey, still curious. "Don't start trying to scare me off, too, Lucius. Lestrange does a bad enough job. I've a liking to make my own choices, when I can." Severus's fingers squeezed Lucius's hand, and then dark eyes looked down to the page Lucius had opened to. "I don't see anything to scare me. It's the same as in the female section."
"Keep reading," Lucius told him, accepting the touch of the younger boy's fingers. "It's not quite the same. Males mature earlier, Severus. That, in a roundabout sort of way, is what Lestrange was so infinitely interested in telling you."
"So, it's like you're older." Severus turned a page, glancing only for a moment at the picture. Blond and pretty, like Lucius was. Lucius had those grey, steely eyes that he liked to look at, that just enthralled him to see how they'd change colors ever so slightly. "So?"
"So... none of that bothers you." It was a bit surprising to Lucius, it seemed, that Severus wasn't upset or fretting about the matter.
"I don't see why it should." Severus was still looking at the pages. Matured faster, needs comparable to the female, enjoyments equal. There was, admittedly, a chunk of what he was reading that he had no real basis for. The sexual appetites of a Veela were fascinating to read, but... a bit embarrassing to think about. That was all, though.
"More to the point," Lestrange sneered from behind them, "I don't see why it shouldn't."
Severus could feel Lucius go stiff beside him. "Perhaps you'd like to take Severus's place in my bed, Nordstrom?" the blond offered with icy inflection. "You seem to have a perverse fascination with my own needs, particularly considering the fact that I know you tricked that house-elf for a pair of Anastasia Tremaine's dirty panties."
The second year closed the book again, holding it to his narrow chest as he turned to look at Lestrange. "Why would you want something like that? That's disgusting."
"Of course you'd think so, you little virgin," Lestrange sneered.
"Stuff it, Nordstrom," Lucius said, standing, and Severus could almost see pale blond strands of hair lifting slightly as if blowing in the breeze. He moved closer to Lestrange, a stride of a sort that Severus had never seen him make. "Or you'll regret it," Malfoy whispered, close to Lestrange's face now, and the other boy paled visibly.
"I should just tell Professor Hecate, or the headmaster, because it's obvious that Severus hasn't realized what's wrong with you yet, despite having read that book. You're a stupid, sick boy," Lestrange pressed on, pulling back from Lucius. Getting away from him seemed to give color back to Nordstrom's cheeks.
"Maybe what's 'wrong' with Lucius is 'wrong' with me, too," Severus muttered defiantly, standing up from his chair. "I'm going to give this back to Madam Pince. Do you want to go eat dinner earlier than usual, Lucius?"
"Yes," Lucius said, stepping closer to Severus, moving past him. "Let's do that."
"You're both sick," Lestrange hissed at the black-haired boy before he could get too far away to hear it.
Well. If they were, then it probably explained a lot, Severus decided. He approached Madame Pince's desk with the books still held to his chest, and Lucius beside him. "Madame Pince? I've finished reading."
"Oh, goodness," she continued to declare as she took it back. "Oh, my dear goodness..."
"Come on," Lucius growled, stalking out of the library ahead of him.
Severus had to jog a little to catch up with his friend, and when he did, his expression was faintly worried. Lucius wasn't happy, and when he had lost his temper the handful of times he had the previous year it was always a spectacular event. And painful for anyone within the sound of his sharp, targeted voice. "Just ignore Lestrange, Lucius. It doesn't bother me at all."
"Oh, no." The other boy's voice purely trembled with repressed fury, and when he turned on Severus, he was almost terrifying. "I will not ignore him. I will not forget it. I will make... him... SUFFER!"
"He isn't gaining anything by doing this. Nothing's changed, Lucius -- calm down?" Not quite a plea, though Severus did reach out to stop Lucius from walking any farther. He decided to guide them both down a longer, side way to the great hall. His fingers, light on Lucius's shoulder, clung ineffectively to the older boy. "Revenge is better when you're calm."
"I'm going to kill him one day, Severus," Lucius seethed on a hiss of breath. "And it's going to be deeply and truly painful when I do. Until then, however, I am going to make sure that he suffers. I am not ready to calm down. Severus."
"But why're you angry?" He didn't understand that, or why what he'd read in the book was giving so many people -- Madam Pince included, it seemed -- fits. Severus was forced to wonder, for a moment, if his mind was slipping. "I don't understand," he admitted after a moment more of holding them both still in that branch hallway.
"Because he's right," Lucius hissed. "Because I'm dangerous to you. Because I shouldn't have you in my bed!" That said, he leaned across, captured Severus's mouth, stole his way into it, took it.
The younger boy hadn't expected it any more than he had that first kiss they'd shared, which had been so much softer and nonintrusive. Lucius's mouth pressed against his, a warm thing that was slightly damp. Like a melting chocolate frog, he told himself before he felt Lucius's tongue worm to press against his lips, and into his slack-jawed mouth. The noise of surprise he made startled them both when he pulled away from his best friend. Jerking back didn't do him much good, because his hand was still clutching to Lucius's shoulder. And, surely, Lucius could hear his suddenly thrumming heart, nervous breath. "That's not dangerous..."
"Isn't it, Severus?" The answer was hissed, and Lucius's hands were hard on him, tugging the black-haired boy to follow him down some unknown corridor that branched off of the one they were in. "Do you know what comes after that, Sev? Do you want to know? Because trust me, I can show you. I could..." He stopped, seeming to pull himself together, and let go of the other boy. "Get away, Severus."
Dark brows, that seldom showed concern for more than an idle tick of a second, drew together as he looked at Lucius. The younger boy's deep black eyes, with their bottomless intelligence, stared at Lucius, as he held his ground. It didn't matter that Lucius had let go of the front of his robes, that he was free to run as part of him said he should. Funny, that part sounded like his grandfather. Skittish old man.
Severus was determined to never be like that, and it showed as he stepped closer to Lucius, eyes still worried. Not for himself, but for his friend. "Show me, Lucius. It's bothering you -- show me."
"You don't want to know," Lucius told him. "You really don't, Sev. You're too young. Wait a year. Wait three."
"I don't want to wait a whole nother year," Severus murmured. One hand lifted again, to press palm-flat against Lucius's chest. Warm, like always, and somehow feeling Lucius's less frantically beating heart soothed his own. "I'm poor at waiting."
"You'll want to wait for this," Lucius said thickly. "Do some research first, Sev. For Merlin's sake..."
"If you're going to insist..." Severus trailed off, hand still pressing. It was almost as if he didn't notice what Lucius's reaction was to him being so close, so comfortably close. "But... you're not going to make me leave the dorm, are you?"
"No," the blond agreed, voice rasping in his throat. "Severus. GO."
Severus stepped back at last, still gazing at his best friend. "Should I get Madam Pomfrey?"
"It's nothing anyone can do anything about, Severus. It's a matter of self control, and right at the moment, I don't have any, so you need to go!"
"All right. I'll... I'll see you at dinner, Lucius." Or that evening. Certainly that evening. Severus turned, a bit disoriented for the moment, but walked down the hall, looking back at his friend every so often.
He couldn't remember being so frightened for someone in his life.
"Well, Severus?"
It had been a week, and a stranger week, Severus couldn't recall having had. Rumors had run rampant for days that Lestrange was a freakish pervert who'd done much worse than stolen panties, and while the other boy had tried to spread rumors about Lucius, no one was quite brave enough to repeat them. Tack onto that the fact that the blond boy had nearly clung to his side of the bed every night for a week, hovering on the edge to keep away from Severus, and it had just been bizarre.
That in particular had unsettled him, because he was used to them sleeping where they would. The year before, and even that first night, had been different. Sometimes, he'd roll over to Lucius's side and get a good-natured elbow in the side that woke him up from his clinging to the other boy. And sometimes, Lucius would roll over to his half, and they'd lay there in a tangle of limbs until Severus cast a tickling spell that woke Lucius up. He didn't like the new tension and couldn't grasp it, even with the research he'd been able to glean from the main part of the library. Madam Pince wouldn't let him check the Veela book out again, not without a new pass.
"I'm confused," were the first words out of his mouth, once he'd settled down across from the headmaster, in a chair that looked as if it were going to swallow him whole. "Classes are fine, but... sir, about that book. I'm confused about that."
"Yes," the old man agreed carefully, nodding. "I was afraid that you might be. What confused you about it, Severus?"
Afraid that he might be. Severus caught at that immediately, frowning as he looked at Dumbledore. One leg kicked a little at the air, foot scuffing the carpet as it swung. "Sir, I've had a lot of people afraid for me this week, Lucius included. That's why I'm confused. So... so Veela mature quicker than others. And maybe Snapes don't, because I just don't understand what's so threatening."
"Well, it isn't precisely a subject we cover here in Hogwarts, and perhaps I should have you ask your Grandfather..." Dumbledore said. "But I know how stubborn he is, and how very unlikely you are to get an answer. I also know that you more than require one, you need one in a most desperate manner. Severus... how much do you know about procreation?"
His cheeks, pale from his proclivity to stay indoors so much, and a bit olive hued from heredity, had a faint burn rise in them. "It's, ah... when a man and a woman get into bed together to make children." He'd had to read about that in a book, and it had been damn hard to find, just like all the interesting books were.
"And do you know what happens there?" It was a gentle question. "What they do together?"
"They kiss, and they... they have sex." Not that he understood the nuances of it, or what that exactly meant. It didn't interest him too much, and still didn't seem to apply to him at all. Sex was just a blanket term for an act that eventually led to children, like him. "I'm still confused. I don't know what it has to do with Lucius." Other than that he matured sooner. Maybe Lucius wanted to do that? That was what he was supposed to be scared of? The idea of making babies was certainly a hair-raising prospect.
Equally hair-raising was that his thoughts were all but written on his face as they passed through his mind.
For a moment, it seemed the Dumbledore couldn't quite think of what to say; it was obviously not an explanation he had to give often. "Severus," he said gently, "when young men begin to mature, certain things happen to them. Are you aware of any of those things?" A negative shake of Severus's head nearly made him want to run from the room. "All right, then. When young men begin to mature, their bodies change. You're already growing taller." He sighed. "Hair will sprout out of funny places, Severus, from beneath arms and at your groin. Even your legs will become vaguely furry. There will also come a certain..." Oh, desire was the wrong word, he thought! "Need, in reference to sexual matters. This is what is happening to Mr. Malfoy, and what will without doubt happen to you very shortly."
"Oh." Moments like that, he hated being a year behind Lucius, a year slower than his friend. He looked down at his feet for a moment, thoughtful. "But is it so horrible? Lucius is acting strange. He's clinging to his side of the bed. I think he's going to fall off soon, if he moves over any further."
"With Mr. Malfoy, things are just a bit different. You recall what you read about the Veela nature, Severus?" The question was asked gently.
"They mature faster, and..." He bit one side of his mouth thoughtfully, as he quoted a particularly striking line from the book, "'They find themselves a slave to their wants, and indulge in them frequently as they can. Wants are needs.'"
"Just so. Wants are needs. Necessities, Severus. Desire in and of itself doesn't describe the drive that Mr. Malfoy is learning to control. Veela are somewhat indiscriminate creatures, as well; they do not often take great care in choosing their partners when their needs are desperate to be fulfilled. I'm sure that Mr. Malfoy is probably very worried that he will do something to you or make you uncomfortable with something of that nature and then everything will change between you. Perhaps you should get a separate bed, Severus, or even room with the other second years," Dumbledore said with serious inflection.
"Everything already has changed, though," Severus told the headmaster. His mouth was caught in a desperate frown, and he leaned a bit. "And I don't want to room with the other second years. I want to sleep with Lucius, and I don't see why I can't."
The old man looked at him, expression quite serious, and then he went to rummaging in a drawer. "Just a moment... Ahhh." It took a bit of conjuring, no small amount of razzle dazzle and even a bit of pure outright creation to root in that drawer and find just what one needed -- most specifically, a book about the development of young men, sex, and sex between them. "Severus. I will trust you with this, but for Merlin's sake, don't show anyone or tell them I gave it to you!"
"Can you put a locking spell on it?" Severus was equally serious, as he didn't take it yet from Dumbledore. "My locking spells don't work properly yet. I can't ever get them to unlock for me, but they unlock for everyone else."
A wave of the Headmaster's wand did the job perfectly. "Now it will only unlock for you and me, Severus. Perhaps we can talk about this again in a day or two." And by then, heaven help him, perhaps he'd have figured out how to tell a curious twelve year old about sex.
Severus clutched the book to his robes, looking up at Dumbledore with the eagerness he always had, and no shame at all in his eyes. "I hope I'm not taking up too much of your time... Professor Hecate runs me off when I bother her too much. You can just tell me to stop asking you things if I take too much time..."
"You aren't taking up too much of my time. I promise," Dumbledore assured him. "Now, go and read, Severus. We'll talk about all of this later."
Book held against him, Severus slipped out of the headmaster's office, and down the stairs. It took a bit of time, but he found a niche to hide away in. In the depths of the dungeons, a dark corner of one comfortably muggy room. "Lumos." With the glowing light from the tip of his wand, back tucked against stone, knees drawn up to his body, Severus was ready to read for hours to come, and it was hours later when he heard his name being called faintly.
"Sev? Severus, are you down here?"
That was Lucius, and obviously the blond boy was looking to find him.
There were no clocks around, so he had no idea how long he'd been there. Only that his legs were stiff, and he felt warm. Such a very interesting book, and a great number of things made sense now. Not perfect sense, but at least enough for him to muddle through the rest of it. What he did occasionally in the shower was perfectly normal, it seemed, and healthy. And, what Lucius was so scared of... didn't seem as bad as everyone thought. Lestrange needed to read that book, too. Maybe Lucius. There was an idea -- they could read it together, and then Lucius would be sure that it didn't bother Severus.
"I'm here..." He held his wand in his teeth as he squirmed out of the niche he'd tucked himself into.
"It's long past curfew, Sev..." The blond boy looked at him, face tight with half a dozen emotions. "I assume that it's because of what I did before... I know it must have upset you. I apologize for what happened earlier. I should neither have done nor said any of those things."
Severus brushed a smear of dust from his hip, shaking his head. Lucius was still as unsure as Severus felt -- so it was probably best that they were alone together to work through Lucius's problem. "I was reading. The headmaster made me promise not to let anyone else see the book, so I had to find a place to hide and read it." He gestured with his wand to the bland leather cover of the closed book.
"Oh," Lucius said a little blankly. "Are you..." He paused. It was obviously putting quite a dent in his pride to say it. "Are you upset with me?"
"Why do you keep expecting me to be upset?" Not quite an answer, but considering how... funny Lucius had been acting all week, Severus wanted his answers first.
"Because..." Lucius took a deep breath. "Things are changing. I'm changing. Maybe you don't want things to be the way they are anymore, or you won't once you understand it all..."
Severus gestured with the book again. "I think... I've figured it out, Lucius. Do you want to sit and read with me for a bit? We haven't got class tomorrow..."
Quietly, Lucius sat down beside him, expression vaguely arrogant and completely cut off... the face he gave to everyone else, but never to Severus. Never until now. "All right."
It unsettled him in ways he wasn't used to being unsettled, scared him in ways he wasn't ever scared before. It took his easy uncaring and made it tense, nervous as he settled cross-legged on the floor beside Lucius. "Alohomora." The book creaked a little, signaling that it was unlocked. Severus let nervous fingers open the cover, as he jammed the handle of his wand into a crack in the tile with his free hand. "See, Lucius? I've been reading. Like you wanted me too do."
Color flitted over grey eyes, a quick sheen there and gone. "And what did you find out?" he asked softly, turning to look at Severus very closely.
Black eyes were still fixed on the crisp pages, on his own narrow fingers toying with the pages. "That I could do a lot of this. And like it, if it was with you, Lucius..." It took effort to glance over at Lucius again, lips parted halfway in the act of saying more; he swallowed it down, though, anxious to see his friend's reaction.
"Severus..." It was a whisper just barely against his ear. "Can I... kiss you again?"
In the faint blue-white light from his wand, Lucius looked ghostly. That pale, pure skin seemed to glow -- or, perhaps it was something else that made it glow. "Yes." Still nervous, but anxious in the way that Severus often was before he tried something new that could either go horribly wrong, or terribly right.
"Close your eyes," Lucius murmured, and it was the same almost tender way he'd voiced it on their first evening back. It was only once his eyes were closed that Malfoy's mouth pressed tenderly to his, only slightly parted as they had been that night.
Severus moved this time, with careful slowness that was trying to combat the shudder of his fingers. They seemed to stop shaking when he'd latched onto the front of Lucius's robes, and that steadied him enough to kiss back. Open mouthed without intrusion, warm as that first kiss had been. There was a slight friction that Severus could concentrate on, press further. It made the warmth feel like it was spreading through him, and to Lucius, too.
For a moment, it went on like that, mouth meeting mouth, soft, warm, damp. Lucius's breath tickled his upper lip, teased at it, and the slight intrusion of tongue-tip nuzzled along the lower one. "Let me in," he whispered breathily.
Lucius certainly knew what he wanted. It was reassuring to Severus, since he was barely aware of why what was going on was going on. Fingers still clutched tightly, fisted in the robes Lucius had tossed on to go search for him. Three simple words made him open his mouth more, jaw slack as he took in the new sensations with the aid of the darkness behind his closed eyes. Lucius was ravaging him slowly, stealing his thoughts out with those kisses, and he could feel something growing deep in his belly, a demanding sort of something that wanted more.
"There..." It was just a murmur, Lucius still kissing him. "Not any farther, Sev. That's as far as it needs to go. We can do this, but..."
A whine escaped from far in the back of his throat, before he drew slow breath in through his nose. "That felt so good," he half-sighed and half complained once his mind has cleared a little. Words were spoken against Lucius's mouth, and he was vaguely aware that the book had slid, still open, from his lap when they'd twisted together.
"We can do it again," Lucius promised him. "But not any further, Sev. Don't tempt me to go further. Please..."
"If you want to, Lucius... A lot of that looked pleasant." Severus's outlook on it was soothing, even as he pulled himself closer to Lucius with the hands that had been caught in Lucius's robes. "I'd like to spend the weekend going over charms homework, practicing flying so I can try for the team, and kissing, if you don't mind..."
"All right..." Murmured agreement pressed against his ear. "That sounds good. For now, though, it's late, we should go back to the dorm room before we get caught..."
Severus caught the book, and his wand, into his hand when they both stood. He was a bit reluctant to let go of Lucius's robe yet, and there was no reason for him to do so. The hand remained, as the younger boy peered at Lucius in the darkened space. "No more of you almost falling out of bed?"
"Just promise not to kick me out of it," Lucius agreed tensely, kissing once more very lightly at the edge of his mouth.
"You know I don't move so much..." Severus was able to gather up a smile as he returned those words against his friend's mouth. "Come on. Let's go up to bed."
Lucius held out his hand idly as his father came closer. "Goodbye, Severus. I'll see you at the beginning of next term, won't I?"
And, he hoped, once or twice over the summer. They'd have to work that out then, though. Lucius was going to send an owl or two, just to see if Severus had gotten his grandfather to ease off. Severus sincerely hoped he could, because a whole summer without his friend would drive him mad, he knew. He was so used to waking up tangled with him, lips chapped from kissing, and sometimes skin chafed nicely... Nothing had really changed. If anything, Severus felt closer to Lucius than ever before.
"I hope I'll be able to find you on the train ride, this time." Severus didn't hesitate to shake Lucius's hand, because his grandfather was nowhere in sight yet.
"Lucius." His father's voice held the same chill inflections, and he had the same pale blond look as Lucius did. "This is young Severus, I take it."
"Yes, Father," Lucius said politely. "Severus, this is my father."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said politely, bowing ever so slightly to the man in deference. He had a tendency to do that with professors, too -- handshakes were for equals to share.
The man smiled slightly. "You look so very much like Sabina. Your mother was lovely. My cousin was a very lucky man to have wed her, though you show traces of your father as well. Your nose and mouth..."
"Cousin?" Lucius asked, eyes dilating momentarily with the surprise.
"I didn't know that...." Severus's black on black eyes flared wide for a moment.
"Indeed, your grandfather is my uncle, and Lucius's great-uncle," Arioch Malfoy explained calmly. "If you like, you may call me Cousin Arioch, or even Uncle, if you would prefer."
"Oh. I..." Uncle had so much more respect than cousin, so he leapt at that instantly in his mind. "I.... Thank you, sir." To Lucius, it was obvious that Severus was rendered near speechless with shock, a rare occurrence. One hand tugged at his robes, straightening them a bit. "I never knew before."
"Nor did I," Lucius said, voice tinged with recrimination. "Why didn't you tell me, Father?"
"There was no point in telling you, Lucius," Arioch said firmly. "Uncle Badminster has been most firm in his choice of refusing to admit that our side of the family continues to exist."
Badminster Snape -- yes, that was his Grandfather... Severus darted eyes over to Lucius for a moment, looking at him with familiar appraisal. "Knowing now doesn't change anything, sir -- but, thank you for telling me." Being vaguely related to Lucius didn't change matters at all, because at the start of the new term, he wanted to be just where he'd spent the entire term already.
"Do you think he would let Severus come and visit us, sir?" It was a tentative question, and mostly without hope after Arioch's previous statement.
"Perhaps," Lucius's father declared. "If hell froze over and Dumbledore served our Lord."
"Who's--"
"Severus, you were supposed to meet me at the corner of the station; you neglected to pick up your bag, you so-- Arioch."
"Hello, Uncle Badminster. Still as querulous as always, I see," Mr. Malfoy said firmly, his own blue eyes narrowing slightly, the only reaction he gave as to how he felt about Severus's grandfather.
Severus's grandfather looked very much as if Severus, and Severus's father, had taken all of the worst traits they'd had from him. The old man was tall to the point of being towering and spindly, with skin turned greyish from lack of sunlight. Severus's faintly sallow hue was a comparative improvement, a blessing of his mother's olive complexion.
For a moment, Arioch Malfoy stared at his uncle, Severus's grandfather. Then the old man grabbed Severus by the shoulder, and jerked him back. "I've told you not to associate with this sort of people before, Severus. Bad enough that you had to go and sort Slytherin to spite me, but I will not have you dying the way your parents did. Come along!"
Actions matched words, and Severus felt himself being tugged along. One last glance over his shoulder at Lucius, and then they turned a corner.
What a terribly long summer faced him.
"Father?" Lucius asked quietly, left behind in the strangled silence the old man had created.
"Yes?"
"Why...?"
Arioch placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. "I'll tell you on the way, Lucius. Come, now."
For a moment, grey eyes danced up to look at him. "Poor Severus," he finally said simply, and they headed out of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to go home.
Family was going to pick him up. Severus had to wonder what family he had left -- would it be the Malfoys, now, or perhaps someone in an entirely different country? Would the old man have gone as far as specifying in his will that Severus wouldn't go to a Malfoy?
It was just him and the household servants since his grandfather had been hurried to St. Mungo's -- to be declared Dead on Arrival. Things had been a whirl of activity since then. Ministry people had investigated its suspicious suddenness.
Talking down to him. Severus didn't like that -- why were they talking down to him when his grandfather had died! It was his grandfather who was dead, just like his parents were, and he was just... something to be swept up to his room by the minimal staff. A butler had told him to pack his things, which was an impossible task.
The man had forgotten that he wasn't able to cast spells over the summer; Severus had so many books, and things that he'd smuggled that were his parents'. Little remnants of them, the odd picture so he knew what they'd look like -- odd objects, most of them 'dark' in nature.
It was an entirely impossible task, so Severus simply settled in the middle of his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, and started to read. In the corner of the room, his great black owl hooted at him from its stand.
"Ready to go, Sev?"
He hadn't even heard Lucius come in, and his heart began to trip wildly at the sight of him. The blond boy laughed and hurried forward, flinging himself into Severus's bed. "They didn't want to let you come to us, but Father pulled strings," he announced, grey eyes wild with happiness. "You're going to spend the rest of the summer with us, and every Christmas and summer after!"
Severus's book slipped from his fingers, and he started up onto his knees as Lucius came closer. "Thank Merlin!" The fear of being made a ward of the Ministry faded, as he moved to hug Lucius briefly. "I haven't packed -- I'm sorry, but I didn't want to go wherever I was being sent, because I thought..." But it didn't matter, so his nervous voice trailed off.
"Doesn't matter." Lucius was smiling at him, an unfamiliar wand in his hand. Drawers opened, clothing dancing to the trunk at the end of Severus's bed. It opened itself, and the entirety of the room was slowly packed inside. "It's Father's old school wand," he explained as Severus's underwear cavorted its way into the trunk. "Those idiots at the Ministry can't tell the difference in my using it and him."
Severus watched partly in envy, as he walked over to his owl, to coax it into the cage. "They must be stupid, not to notice that. They're still in the building, I think -- a few of them, at least..." He cupped a hand over the owl's soft feathers, stroking a bit worriedly. "Can I bring Abrahm?"
"Of course! We have several owls at Malfoy Manor, and a much nicer owlery than the one at Hogwarts." Lucius paused, smiled at him, a wicked, teasing sort of expression that made Severus shiver. "I'm so glad you're going to be staying with us, Sev."
Would things be as they were at the dorm...? Severus hoped so, as he turned to coax his owl into its gilded cage. To not do so would be infinitely strange in his mind. "I'm glad, too -- I was going to miss you terribly again..." Perhaps his grandfather was gone, but he had Lucius. It didn't make the first null, but it certainly soothed his fears down.
"There." The trunk lid closed and Lucius sat on it, reaching between his legs to hinge the latches shut. "You're all ready to go, I think." He was obviously very excited, but he didn't say it. With Severus, he never had to say it. "You can sleep with me tonight, Father says. He says you're probably quite shaken up..." Lucius tilted his head to the side as if to ask him if he was.
Severus seemed to be, even if he wasn't going to admit it. His fingers, nimble things that could tell from feel the difference between a pinch and a dash of some ingredient, fumbled and fidgeted at the lock to Abrahm's cage. "I wish the Aurors would leave. One of them said that I killed Grandfather..." Which just wasn't true, or even probable.
"Father will put an end to that nonsense," Lucius told him firmly, slipping his father's old wand beneath his cloak. "You hadn't ought to worry about that, Sevvie..."
Severus's nose crinkled a little as he lifted Abrahm's cage from its stand, and walked over towards Lucius. "You know I hate being called that. The last time the Gryffindors heard you call me that..." Teasing of the sort that had made him give each and every one of them rat noses. Which would've been so much more funny if McGonagall hadn't made him turn them back so they wouldn't suffocate.
It wouldn't have been his fault if they died because they were too stupid to breath through their mouths.
"Are we flying there?"
"Father brought a car..." Lucius paused deliberately, smirked. "Sevvie."
Lucius found himself with Severus's fingers in his pale white hair, touching before they ruffled. "Lucie doesn't fit you at all."
"Call me Lucie again and I swear you'll suffer," Lucius promised, but it was hard to believe him when he was smiling like that, looking across into black eyes that were happier than they'd been in days.
"Lucius fits you better than that. Sounds like something a Gryffindor would use -- all sickly cute." Severus leaned a bit nearer, before he pressed a kiss to Lucius's mouth, light for the moment, but his own lips were already parting with hope.
Hope was fulfilled, the other boy's tongue lightly darting into his mouth, teasing at him for a moment before he paused, eyes gone dark grey. "Come on," he said a little thickly. "Not here. Maybe at home."
When Lucius gave a 'maybe' it meant 'yes, when he wants it'. Severus drew back, looking deeply at his friend. Summers, for years and years, and Christmases... Black gaze gave a lazy blink as he pulled away entirely, and started for the door, Abrahm's cage swinging in his grip. "Maybe then, yes." And maybe, when he was grown up, he'd reclaim his home. Put up wards, so that no Auror ever tramped through his garden again. Until then, the retainers would keep it up...
"Let's go."
Malfoy Manor was beautiful, even lovelier than Severus's home. That was probably because it was lived in by a family, he figured, and quite possibly because he was so happy to be away from the Aurors, too.
"Your mother will undoubtedly have kept dinner for us," Arioch commented lazily. "The servants will deposit your things in your room, Severus. It will be next door to Lucius's."
Close then -- that made him happy, too. There weren't any Aurors, there was Lucius to talk to and just be near, there were two adults in the house... The Manor simply seemed alive, compared to Snape Manor. Someday, when he was older, Severus decided that Snape Manor would be just like Malfoy Manor. It, too, would be alive for him. People would come to talk to him about books he had written, or was writing, how to do one spell or another...
The internal fantasy drifted, as they paused in the hallway for a moment. His gaze drifted, too, black eyes crawling over the tiles of the ceiling. Intricate artwork adorned each one, though what they were pictures of, Severus couldn't tell -- it was far too high up for him to get a proper look.
Proper look. That sparked something in his mind. The next words from his lips were, "When will the funeral be, Uncle Arioch?"
"The day after tomorrow, Severus. If you do not feel that you are up to the task, I will make your excuses. You're young enough, still, not to be required at such an occasion," Arioch assured him.
"I'd rather not go," Severus said without hesitating over it. "It's not... him. It's like a dead bug. He's gone, now."
The older man looked at him seriously. "Yes. You should always remember that, Severus. Once the life is gone, there is no use moping about over it."
"It's all right to miss, though, isn't it?" Severus looked at Arioch for a moment as he would Dumbledore -- actively seeking the guidance he needed.
"Of course," Arioch dismissed. "You're youthful yet, Severus, and no one would expect you to publicly show your grief."
"Good." He didn't want to have to go look at his grandfather's body -- people cried at funerals, and acted like the shell was the person. Severus could recall that much, from being balanced on the hip of a nanny at the closed casket funeral for his parents. "So, I'm not going to become a ward of the ministry?"
"I have made more appropriate arrangements," was all that Arioch would say. "Lucius, take Severus upstairs and change into proper attire for dinner. His trunk should be in his room by now. If it isn't, let me know," he said, and moved away from them.
"Come on," Lucius said, grabbing his hand and tugging at him. "It's just this way!"
Just this way turned out to be up a set of wide, curving marble stairs, their shoes tapping out a little rhythm as they hurried up them, paintings watching them go and whispering amongst themselves. The sound of it echoed slightly ahead of them, and soon all of the portraits were talking as they moved past.
"Who're all of them?" Severus asked, peering back over his shoulder as they walked down the echoing marble-floored hall. Hopefully the bedrooms would have wood, or carpeting -- otherwise, he'd have to wear slippers for fear of the noise driving him mad. "Are they all Malfoys?"
"Not all of them. Some of them are Snapes, and a few are even Langlois and Savarines," Lucius explained. "Most Malfoys find wives from Beauxbatons, so most of the women are French."
"It's a great deal of people..." They came up upon picture after picture on the walls, until Lucius turned suddenly.
There were two doors side by side, with barely space for a wall between their jambs. "One's yours, and the other is mine?"
"And there's another door between the rooms," Lucius told him with a nod. "This one's yours." He pushed open the door and walked inside of the room.
"What's dinner attire?" he asked, following Lucius into his new bedroom. It was crisp, and his trunk laid, still locked, in the very center of the room. A few weeks there, and it would be as much home as his previous room, and just as neat and orderly. He only needed a chance to break it in. "Grandfather never had me dress particularly for dinner."
"Formal robes," Lucius said with a little grimace. "Awfully heavy things, but there you have it. If you haven't any, you can borrow some of mine and I'm sure Mother will take us to get some for you tomorrow."
"I've a set from when I was very little... but none that I can wear," he said, moving to unlock his magically packed trunk. "Your father seems awfully nice -- your mother seems so, too." She'd sent Lucius those care packages often, after all, and Lucius spoke of her glowingly. That eased any nervousness he might've had. "Yes, I think I'll have to borrow robes."
"She'll like having another boy to dress up," Lucius decided, moving to a nearby wall and brushing back the tapestry there. Behind it lay a door, which pushed upon another tapestry on the other side when he opened it. "Come on through."
"She dresses you up?" Severus brushed the second tapestry back with his arm, as it slipped over the door a little. Lucius's bedroom gave him pause -- beautifully decorated, and without a doubt, it was lived in. But to comment on its elegance -- that he should have expected, considering Lucius's affinity for satin sheets -- would have been rude.
"You haven't noticed the things she sends with me to school?" the blond asked him dryly, moving to a large wardrobe against one wall. "Really, Severus. She loves it. At least she has excellent taste," Lucius decided, shrugging.
"I don't dig around in your clothes, Lucius -- only your books." Severus shrugged, too, as he stood close behind Lucius. Books were more appealing than clothing, and thinking about it, bed sheets were more appealing than clothing, too. "I won't mind if she decides to dress me up, too, though."
"Good, as I suspect you'll have no choice. Here, try these. They're a bit long on me, and with your legs..." Lucius's growth spurt had not quite hit yet, despite the fact that the Veela in him had been screaming because of a different sort of spurt. That lack of proper height put Lucius at only a bit taller than his younger friend and relation, and Severus without question had longer legs.
Not that it meant the dress-robes would be accepted well. Severus stared at them for a moment, holding the outfit out from him a bit. "Is it supposed to have so much lace?"
"I'm afraid so," Lucius drawled. "Just be glad that they're black." He pulled out another set in a deep dark blue with even more lace. "These are truly atrocious."
Severus was smiling to himself as he asked, "Are those the ones that fit you?"
"Unfortunately," Lucius replied, rolling his eyes as he began stripping out of his clothing. "Go ahead and take off everything underneath them. They're impossibly hot, otherwise."
Severus was careful to lay his borrowed set on the bed. Then he stripped his own summer robe and trousers off, letting them puddle on the floor for a moment before he pulled his underwear down, too. There wasn't an ounce of shame in him as he walked towards the bed again, and picked up the dress-robes again, opening the buttons while uncaringly nude before the other boy.
"Merlin, Sev." It was a mildly rough-voiced complaint. "You could've let me turn around first. Now I'll be suffering all through dinner!"
"I won't be," Severus teased him, as he slipped the robes on, and left them open for the moment. He turned to Lucius that way, grinning slightly before he started to button them up. "You just said to take off everything..."
"Thanks so much," Lucius groaned, a shaking hand covering his own eyes. He'd stripped off his own clothing, and the blue formal robes were almost on him, revealing a great deal of pale skin and a rampant erection. "It's cruel of you, Sev. Just cruel!"
"I might suffer, now..." Severus paced close, closer than Lucius would have liked, with his robes only halfway buttoned. He pressed a hand against Lucius's chest, over his heart and against warm skin. "Is dinner soon?" He wanted to touch the other boy's erection, that pale skin, he wanted to... do so many of the things that the book had said that Lucius hadn't let him do.
"Fifteen minutes, I'm afraid," Lucius whispered, leaning to kiss him, teasing lightly at his mouth for a moment. "It'll take a good five minutes to get down to the dining room." Malfoy Manor was huge.
"I don't want to be late," Severus admitted, pressing the kiss a bit more, despite Lucius pulling back already. A pity, since his breath was quickening, and he could feel his own cock twitching to life eagerly. He wanted to touch, and explore, and just indulge himself in Lucius. Then he wouldn't have to think of anything else at all. "After dinner?"
"After dinner," he was promised, and those pale fingers moved quickly along his front, buttoning Severus's dress-robes carefully. "I promise."
Severus pulled his hand back, warm fingers tracing over Lucius's flawless pale skin. "I'll hold you to it."
"I'd expect you to do no less," Lucius managed to grind out hoarsely. "Now, let's go downstairs. I'm sure Mother is probably already waiting for us."
"Button your robes first," Severus drawled, as his fingers darted to do just that for his friend. Then he slipped away, to put his boots back on. "I want to meet your mother. It's awfully nice of her and your father to take me in..."
"They wanted you desperately when your parents died," Lucius said. "I remember them talking about it, but your grandfather wouldn't allow it. Mother wanted me to have a companion, and you would have been perfect. You are perfect," he said, tugging on his own shoes. "Let's go downstairs."
That he had been wanted before then made it easier for him to accept -- less like he was a burden thrust upon them because there wasn't anyone else to do it. "I'll behave utterly at dinner tonight, Lucius -- I'll promise you that." Severus was already standing at the main door, waiting and ready, when Lucius pulled his second shoe on.
"I never doubted that you would," Lucius agreed, and they began the trek downstairs.
It was a rather convoluted path, at least as bad as Hogwarts. It gave Severus the same feeling of confusion that the school had originally, almost a dizzying sort of sensation. True, the stairs didn't move, but he was still half as lost as he'd been on his first day of classes, and knew for sure that he couldn't find the bedrooms again.
"I think I need a map," he declared softly, just as they entered the dining hall.
"Don't worry," Lucius said softly. "You'll become accustomed. Good evening, Mother. Father."
Arioch raised an eyebrow as Severus followed Lucius, sitting beside him near the middle of the table. "Good evening. I assume that your accommodations are acceptable, Severus?"
Lucius looked a great deal like his mother from what Severus could tell from the glance he took before he looked to Arioch. "Yes, Uncle -- very much so. It's very nice here." Even if it was overwhelmingly large, and there were too many things on the walls that threatened to distract him.
"Excellent," Arioch said, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation.
"Mother," Lucius said, "Severus doesn't have any dress robes. Could we go shopping tomorrow, perhaps?"
"No dress robes?" She looked down her short, pretty nose at Severus for a moment, studying him with beautiful grey eyes that looked just like Lucius's. Severus stared back, perhaps rudely, but without intimidation in him at all. "Such a shame. Early tomorrow, then, boys. We will take you, Severus, and dress you as befits a Snape."
"Yes, Aunt..." He looked at her awkwardly for a moment, before he went on, "I'm sorry. I don't even know--"
"Porrima," Lucius's mother answered him kindly.
Lucius was smiling at her, not the excited sort of beaming smile he would have given Severus, but one filled with a certain demure tenderness, all the same. "Thank you, Mother," he said simply. "May we go to Borgin and Burkes, too? I'd like to show Severus some things..."
"Perhaps next time," Arioch said.
"But Father..."
The answer that the elder Malfoy gave was firm. "Next time."
"Yes, Father."
"Grandfather never liked to go out... Can I go into the gardens here? They looked beautiful when we drove up, and Lucius keeps teasing me that I need to go outside more..."
As the servants brought dinner out, Severus launched into his unsure game of question and answer, trying to find his footing in the household, and the rules so he wouldn't break them and displease his two new caretakers.
"That went well," Lucius sighed, flopping down onto his bed. His dress robes had been abandoned in a crumpled heap on the floor, shoes kicked off beside them, and he was gloriously naked in the warm, sticky summer air that flooded in through the open windows. "I can't wait for tomorrow! We can get you a new broom, too, if you like, one like mine..." Lucius always had the best brooms, and as Seeker and Catcher, he and Severus were both excellent.
Severus had been required to use a school broom because his grandfather didn't want to buy him one and 'distract him any more from his studies'. "I'm glad your parents are so nice," Severus decided, turning away from the open window. He paused a moment to stare at Lucius's stretched out body. So many ideas flitted into his mind at once while he stood there with his back to the window and equally nude. "And that I can sleep here tonight."
"Mmm, so am I," Lucius agreed, rolling onto his belly and laying his head on his arms, looking at the dark-haired boy just across the way. "Are you coming to bed soon?" It was an invitation, one blatantly voiced with a smile.
"I might," Severus decided softly. He walked around the bed, first, though, and it was almost on an afterthought that he paced away from the bed again before pivoting to tackle Lucius.
The blond boy yelled as Severus flung against him, beginning to laugh. "Sev, you... Mmm..." Kisses, so soon, and arms tangling around his shoulders, lips and tongue teasing, attacking, passing back and forth between them. "Mmmm."
Lucius was still pinned to the bed by the slightly smaller boy, until Severus drew himself up on his knees to let Lucius turn around, still kissing him. "Did you suffer through dinner?"
"Horribly," Lucius sighed against his mouth. "Awfully. Madly. I ache, Sevvie..."
"Is it bad to ache?" It felt more like a gnawing, like his stomach felt sometimes when he needed to eat. "I want to play, like we did that time Nordstrom complained so loudly..."
Just the thought of it made Lucius groan. He'd never forgotten that, the way that his fingers had caressed over Severus's answering hardness, slithered back to slide inside the pretty dark-haired boy and make him sob. "Oh, Sev. Don't. Don't say things like that, or I can't be responsible for what you make me do!"
"What if I want that? Then you wouldn't be responsible." Severus shifted a little, to sit atop Lucius's thighs, looking down at his friend. He leaned forwards almost right away, plastering himself comfortably to Lucius's slightly bigger body. "I've read that book, ten, eleven times now, Lucius..."
"Sevvie..." It was said gently, hands coming up to his shoulders, running down his back. "Sevvie, if I did, it might hurt you. You know that. You're so young, you're too young..."
"I'm almost thirteen," Severus told him hopefully. "You told me at the beginning of the school year to wait a year..." Hands on his back, touching sweetly, softly, were things he had long ago decided he'd never get used to. Other boys, surely, were more used to casual touch, or even sensual touch that wasn't their own. He only had Lucius, and it was hard to get enough of it when they were sneaking moments between, before, and after classes and reading.
"But..." It was only token protest, he could tell, Lucius's hands sliding down his back to clasp loosely at the other boy's hips, fingers spreading out slightly to reach more of his skin. "All right, Sev. If you think you know what you're getting into..." It was obvious that Lucius thought he did.
"I trust you." Severus whispered that against Lucius's skin, against his chest as he kissed there. "I want to try it. I'm curious -- that one time we almost did felt so good."
"You liked it..? When I touched you here...?" Those fingers slid further back, parting Severus, finding the tiny hole there that he remembered touching short weeks ago. "You want me to do it again...?" They were questions, but they weren't really asking anything. More, they were teasing at Severus's mind, Lucius's pale skin flushed, and his erection was solidly pressed against Severus's own where he lay.
"You just want to hear me say 'yes' to you." Severus's tease was vague, as he squirmed forwards against Lucius's cock and stomach. The press of one finger was enough to make his heart flutter, more with anticipation than fear.
"Tell me yes," Lucius agreed, voice breaking slightly with excitement as he gave pressure, that teasing fingertip so close to being inside of Severus. "Tell me it's what you want, Sevvie..."
"It's what I want -- yes, Lucius. Yes. I trust you..." 'I'll follow you anywhere, do whatever you tell me to' was implicit in those three simple words, in the way that Severus's fingers clutched at Lucius's shoulders.
"Here..." It was said tenderly, and that finger slid into him slowly, achingly, dry. "Here, Sevvie. Oh, God, you feel good, I can just imagine..."
The friction was eased only by the warmth of his own body, the humid dampness that clung to him a little. It tickled like it had before, and Lucius's fingernail scraped ever so slightly within him. Everything, every little twitch of Lucius's delicate finger, seemed amplified from being pressed inside of him. And Severus made no attempt to disguise how it felt, no attempt to muffle the soft mewling whine that left his throat. "Ohhh..."
"Tell me you like it..." Lucius loved words, loved to hear him talk, and he was kissing Severus again now, kissing him almost desperately as his finger teased, pried, sought out the funny little spot that Severus liked so much. "Let me know it, Sev..."
He felt a tiny lump beneath his finger, one that made Severus tense and press more heatedly against him. "There -- do that again, Lucius, it feels better than anything..."
"Anything...?" Lucius was such a tease. Still, he did it again, rubbing tenderly against that nub as he nibbled little sounds from Severus's lips. "Oh, Sevvie. You make me want so much..."
"You're making me want..." His heart was zipping along at a beat that mice would have trouble matching, and his fingers curled again, tightly, into Lucius's shoulders. The other boy felt a peculiar huff of breath against his mouth, and Severus tilted his hips back, lifting his bottom against Lucius's finger. The motion drove it deeper, and for a moment, it almost hurt, but then it was gone and Lucius was shifting him, pressing him down onto his back.
"Just a moment," the older boy promised, crawling halfway over him to reach into the night stand, searching for something. "Ah-ha!"
Severus stretched a little, as if that would rid him of the ache of Lucius's too-quick withdrawal. It felt so good within him, an ache that made his cock ooze just thinking about it. "What're you looking for?" He turned his head a little to look at Lucius, while one hand slipped down to his groin to feel over his own erection.
"This," Lucius said triumphantly, holding up a little tube of hand cream. "This will make it easier. You ached last time, didn't you?" Fingers lightly pushed away Severus's hand. "Don't touch. It's mine."
Severus smiled up at Lucius, and let his hand drop the lay atop the sheets. "Don't neglect that, then..." Hand-cream made sense, though his book had talked of potions to be used, and spells... More complicated things, Severus decided, to be used when they weren't on holiday and banned from using magic.
Lucius kissed him again, the feel of it heated and strangely tender as the pale boy pressed atop the length of him. "One last time. Are you certain?"
Beneath him, Severus wriggled, a shift of hip and butt that pressed him closer against Lucius. "I'm certain I want it from you, Lucius..."
That seemed to be all the information that Lucius needed, and fingers now coated in lotion slid between his legs, past faintly fuzzed balls to tease again at the tiny aperture where only one had rested previously. "Now..." he whispered as two slid inside of his cousin, his tongue lapping out to swipe across Severus's lips.
It hurt again, ached a bit too much, but his body didn't take it properly. Severus wanted, discomfort or not, and he was going to have. His arms caught around Lucius's neck and shoulders, body bowing up to get closer to him. No more words, but a soft moan, as he eagerly pulled Lucius's tongue into his mouth.
The suction he gave was joined by a deep nudge that made him moan again. Lucius's wrist pressed to his throbbing flesh, the pale blond's cock rocking steadily against his thigh, and those fingers... Oh, those fingers...
There was nothing in that book about fingers -- simple things that were used for eating, or touching, or writing -- feeling so good when pressed inside of his body. It felt less raw, now that they were slicked, and they twisted with ease that he'd come to expect in everything Lucius did. "More," he begged softly, breaking the kiss with a ragged pant. "It feels so good..." As if he were teetering on some brink.
"More...?" Oh, Lucius was a tease, a horrible, deliberate tease. "What sort of more do you want, Sevvie. Tell me what you want and you know I'll give it to you. I'd give you anything..."
If he teased any longer, Severus was just going to give up and hump his wrist. For the moment, a stab of fingers made him moan again, shaking as he clung closer to Lucius. "Your cock -- I want your cock in me, instead of your fingers."
Lucius asked no questions; he didn't make certain that Severus was absolutely sure, didn't wait any longer. Instead, he reached for that cream again, slicked it over his own flesh. "If it hurts," he whispered, "tell me, Sevvie. I don't know if I'll be able to stop, but tell me..." He almost seemed to glow in the shadowy room, throwing off sparks of pure excitement, of sex, of something delicious and dark and needful.
As demanding as he was, Severus craved that need. Want was need for Veela, and to be needed was to be wanted by his best friend, for something only they did together, something special that was just and only them. Severus shifted, legs akimbo for his friend, waiting. "I'll tell you. I promise, I will."
"Be still, Sevvie," Lucius whispered, hips dipping downward. Severus could feel the throb of flesh lightly probing, searching, and then there was pressure against him, pushing against that tiny hole. It felt as if Lucius was parting him, with a slick blunt weapon, gently at first, then harder, until the slight squirm he gave was unsureness, unease. Maybe it wasn't going to fit, to work yet, and he'd been wrong about being ready for it...
Then Lucius was in, and Severus was sure that the sob that filled the room was his own, startled noise.
"Shhhh." It was a sound barely gasped out as Lucius grasped his suddenly fumbling hands, pressing his wrists down to the mattress as he slid all the way inside, deep. "Hush, Sevvie, hush, not so loud... Not so loud!"
He almost asked why not to be so loud, but the thought failed him as he struggled slightly against the grasp of Lucius's hands on his wrists. "It hurts, Lucius..." His complaint shivered free with hitched breaths. He felt split in two, as if Lucius was buried so deep in him that he'd be stuck.
"Oh, God," Lucius moaned against his shoulder, leaning up to kiss him tenderly, sweetly. Severus could feel him shaking violently against him. "Sevvie, please. Please don't say it hurts. Please..." He wanted so much, so desperately, and it was so very obvious.
"It... it doesn't hurt," he lied, still shaking as he slipped his hands free from Lucius's pinning hands, to cling to the other boy. "It's only... o-only a lot..."
"It will get better," the blond promised him, shifting minutely and moaning, mouth moving slowly in a trail up Severus's throat. "It will get better. I promise. Tell me when it gets better. I'll try not to move much..."
Every slight twitch of movement Lucius gave was something else to make him ache a little, and ache, and ache; kisses to his mouth, neck, wherever Lucius could reach, were slowly counteracting that odd ache, slowly bringing his erection back to life. And after a few more whimpers, he shifted against Lucius, back towards the other boy's groin.
"Do you want me to move?" It was a shaky whisper, barely heard, almost nothing more than a breath. The tension in Lucius was felt in every line, in the way he pressed tight to Severus and shook.
"A little," Severus whispered back. "Just some. It still... only a little." He'd almost said hurt, but stopped himself in time.
"I love you, Sevvie," Lucius breathed, shifting in him, pulling back just a little and pushing forward again. "Oh, Merlin. You feel so good, Sevvie. It feels so good..."
That edgy movement brushed, just faintly, that spot within him. "Ohhh... Lucius, do that again, please..." It was starting to feel like being tickled in some obscure place, even if it still hurt at the very point that Lucius was in him. Almost a bit like using the loo, but backwards. "Want you... my friend. Mine." Hands clutched again, keeping them close as motion picked up again.
"Yours," Lucius agreed, beginning to shift his hips with a slightly deeper flexion, stealing Severus's mouth to kiss him breathlessly. "God, fuck, yes, Sevvie... Oh, Merlin, so tight. So hot. I think, oh, I think it's too good, it's..."
"Touch me, Luc, get it right... oh, right there!" Another shortened motion hit that spot again, rasping just over that point. It sent a pulse through his cock, and a glob of fluid streaked against Lucius's stomach when Severus arched tightly against him.
"Can I move more?" Lucius panted, struggling not to simply ignore Severus's wants. He needed to push deep and hard and quick, and oh, it was so hard not to just do it..
"Yes!" Another mewl of noise from the boy beneath Lucius. One long leg, bent at the knee, curled against Lucius's thigh in a sad, hazy attempt for more touch between them. "Move, move, please don't tease..."
Blatant permission, then, and Lucius gave a strangled cry in response to it, pulling almost all the way out of him and slamming back in deeply. There wasn't any thought outside of pushing himself as deeply into Severus as he could get, and he wrapped his arms about the other boy's thin chest, shuddering against him. "God. Fuck. Sev. Oh... Yes, I..."
It overwhelmed him entirely. One moment it was two bodies, struggling together to find a rhythm, the next, Severus was caught in it, drowning in Lucius's intensity, his powerful thrusts. There wasn't an ache, or pain -- just frantic breathing, his cock jutting and rubbing against Lucius's stomach as they clung together. His voice, babbling incoherently, in Lucius's ear, gave words that only encouraged the other boy to move in him harder, deeper, almost recklessly.
"Sev... Sevvie... Oh, God, oh, God, oh..." Lucius knew he wouldn't last much longer, the entirety of his body devoted to snapping deep into Severus, and his arms tightened around the dark-haired boy desperately. "Please, God, Sevvie, yes!"
Swallowed up and crushed, a fleeting fear that died when his hips jerked up again, of their own will -- one more step in the wave that had carried him away. Then he was crying out, sobbing, moaning, when an orgasm hit him that wasn't like anything he'd felt before. His hand couldn't come close, or Lucius's hand. It was a shaking moment without thought, as he spurted thin, ropey strands of semen against Lucius's stomach.
The resulting shudders that worked through him seemed to set Lucius off, as well, for several short thrusts later, Severus found himself full to brimming with the oddest wetness, Lucius quivering over him. "Sev..." It seemed to be the only thing he could think to say. "Oh, Sev..."
His thin arms clung still, and the dark-haired boy remained oddly quiet as he continued to hold on to Lucius. It had certainly felt good, holistically. There were parts that would take getting used to, of course, but he was willing to get used to them for Lucius's sake. Black eyes fixed on Lucius's face, still a little damp. He licked his bottom lip, then murmured, "That was better than the book said it was."
Lucius gave a little laugh, shivering against him. "Ohhh, it was..." He was almost purring with the pleasure of it, and his skin still seemed to glow, giving off a faint light of its own in response to the sheer gratification singing in his veins. "It was better than anything."
"I think it was," Severus agreed after a moment of thought. He shifted a little, stretching his toes, and gave a surprised whimper when he felt Lucius's cock slip out of him.
"Did I hurt you awfully?" Lucius asked him, startled slightly by that sound. "I didn't mean to, Sev..."
Severus shook his head slightly. "That just felt funny. Otherwise..." He grinned a little, despite already closing his eyes sleepily. "I'm not sure I like feeling wet inside. But it was good, worth being sore."
"We can do it again, then?" Lucius asked him, and the sound seemed just a little urgent.
"Yes." No hesitation at all, because Severus had no fear of any long-term repercussions. He wasn't hurt, it had felt good, and Lucius was happy. There was nothing else to think about, past being a bit overheated, and comfortable in Lucius's arms.
"Soon," Lucius whispered, and kissed him once more. "Very, very soon."
One long, lean leg slipped up, knee pressing against Lucius's back as Severus pulled him closer atop him. "Tomorrow, soon as we can." That trailed off into a soft yawn, and Severus snugged himself comfortably into the pillows.
"That sounds perfect," Lucius agreed, and kissed him one last time. Soon, the only sound that remained in the room was that of their deep, tired breathing.
"Sev, tea is in fifteen minutes..." It was a half-hearted protest at best, encouragement at worst. They were now only a handful of days away from returning to school, and neither of them really wanted to stop what they'd spent the entire summer doing.
"So?" Severus shifted where he sat. The summer was long and enjoyable for them both, a mixture of running around outside and flying brooms, reading and finishing summer assignments, and satisfying Lucius's wants. Wants that had, slowly and surely, become his own as much as Lucius's. So there he sat, astride Lucius's lap, a book between them, and one hand over Lucius's groin. "Tell me the ingredients of the potion I just named."
"I can't think when you've got your hand on my cock, Sevvie," Lucius muttered, glaring at him. Severus knew it didn't mean anything, that look, except that maybe he'd be flat on his back and screwed senseless in a moment. "Father's got company coming..." That didn't stop Lucius's fingers from tugging at Severus's robes, though.
"Maybe... this is a bad way to study," Severus decided half-heartedly, pressing the book against Lucius's chest for a moment. "Maybe? Ohhh, touch me there, Lucius... This morning was too quick."
"Mother won't mind if we do it during tea..." Lucius decided, stroking him carefully, fingers giving just the amount of pressure that Severus liked best. "Hmm..."
Weeks of practice at the acts had made Severus so much more assured as to what he was doing, and what he liked. There was always a twist, though, like the twenty minute he'd already spent sitting on Lucius's lap, dragging school-book answers from him. Now he let the book slip to the floor beside their chair at last, and leaned forwards to kiss his best friend with reassuring force. "We were studying, remember?"
"Bother studying," Lucius whispered, tugging Severus down so that they were pressed tightly groin to groin. "We can study afterwards..."
"My goodness, Lucius. I know how terrible it is to attempt controlling oneself at your age, but surely you might try," Porrima said from the doorway, vaguely amused. "You know your Father is expecting guests, and I'm sure they would love to meet our dear Severus, as his parents were so close to many of them. I am certain Arioch would prefer that the two of you not smell like sex."
Severus didn't seem to have the sense, in the face of Porrima lingering in the doorway, to actually feel shame or guilt over being caught. Or modesty, though he groaned quietly against Lucius's mouth, and buttoned his clothes. "Sorry, Aunt Porrima..." He had to button his clothes, and straighten Lucius's, or else they'd never stop and go to tea. One more careless kiss, and he slid off of Lucius's lap, looking a bit flustered that he'd had to stop, but he certainly didn't look like he wanted to sink into the leather of their shared chair like Lucius did.
"My entire brain is on fire," Lucius moaned, looking at Severus longingly. "Does it always hurt so much to stop, Mother?"
She laughed softly, the eyes that were so much like Lucius's wide with happiness, amusement. "I think perhaps it is worse at your age than at mine. It is never pleasant," she mused, "but eventually, it becomes better. Somewhat..."
"After the guests are gone..." Severus's voice trailed off in quiet, eager promise, as he reached to take Lucius's hand and tug on him. His own erection would fade, or perhaps linger and bother him, but it couldn't compare to what he guessed Lucius was feeling.
"They'll stay forever," Lucius muttered, rising with Severus's help. "Not even a little, Mother? Surely we could take time for a quick bath..."
"Baths with you are never quick," his mother replied not quite sternly. "You would never make it back downstairs."
"Your mother is very right," Severus agreed, tugging at Lucius's hand again. "Let's just go? Then, if we've met them, we can leave when they're bored of saying hello."
"Not with these guests," Lucius grumbled, shaking his head. "Let's go, then. Perhaps it'll be gotten over with more quickly than usual. Several of these men knew your parents, Severus."
"They were their friends...?" Severus asked for clarification as he dragged Lucius past Porrima, who made an amused sound and closed the library door behind them. It would be nice, he decided, if he could meet people who knew his family, and weren't family. Open up the sphere of his world a little...
"Mmm, sort of. Sevvie, don't be surprised by anything you hear. I'll explain it all later," Lucius said, sucking momentarily on his own upper lip.
"What'll I hear?" Severus was still dragging Lucius along, with his friend's hand caught in his still. Odd, for Lucius to sound worried about anything.
"They're devoted to the Dark Lord, Sev," Lucius whispered, his mother not far behind them. "You never know just what you'll hear with them."
"The Dark Lord is--" Severus cut himself short before he actually said anything else. A dark wizard, and these were the people who worked with Him to wreak so much havoc -- havoc that had never touched him, personally, for whatever reason. It wasn't like he and Grandfather were muggle-lovers. Nor Lucius and his parents. "Are, I mean, were, my parents that?"
"Mmm," Lucius agreed. "Both of them were very devoted to the Cause, Severus, as you and I should be one day. It isn't right that pure blood doesn't count for more, that ridiculous Mudbloods like those Gryffindors are allowed to pick on better people, better students, like you. It shouldn't happen."
Severus almost said that being part Veela wasn't exactly pure, but it was certainly an admirable bloodline -- and he didn't care much for bloodlines, since he knew next to nothing about his own, and only knew that he didn't care what Lucius had in him. But... the idea that the Gryffindors shouldn't be allowed to get away with what they did, Severus liked. He nodded a bit, more to that part than any other. "I didn't know there was a cause. I thought it was just a bunch of people running around killing muggles..."
"That would be a senseless waste of human life, I should think," Lucius replied thoughtfully. "No, it's rather a necessity. Most of the muggles killed are Mudblood kin, and it's necessary to make sure that wild magic doesn't keep occurring amongst the Muggles. Think of it as population control," Lucius told him firmly, nodding. "You'd kill an animal if it was deformed in some way, wouldn't you? To put it out of its misery," he reasoned. "This is hardly different."
"So..." Severus looked at the other boy thoughtfully, as Porrima herded the two, who were still holding hands, into the tea-room. "So, it's to stop them from passing it on?"
"Just so," Lucius agreed quietly before going silent.
"Ah, boys. Come in. There are several gentlemen who would like to meet you, Severus," Arioch greeted them.
Severus entered a step behind Lucius, peering at his 'uncle' first, and then the men who were in the room with him. It was strange, because the air felt thick, like it sometimes did in the headmaster's office when Fawkes had been flapping around. Thick, heavy, dripping with... yes, dripping with magic, Severus decided as he looked at them all. It was hard to keep his curiosity off of his face, as he gave them a placid, "Good afternoon, sirs."
"Good afternoon, boy." Green eyes gleamed at him, dark and tinged around the iris with some other color that was hidden by dark bangs. "You're the Snape child, I understand."
"Yes, sir -- my name is Severus," he answered the man, fingers letting go of Lucius's after a slight squeeze. There was power in those green eyes, too, and it drew his curiosity. He wanted to brush those dark bangs out of the man's face to see what color his eyes really were, but that would've been most rude, considering that the man didn't even have a name yet.
"You seem an acceptable boy. Sabina and Penumbrus would undoubtedly have been proud of you. I hear from young Lucius that you are quite brilliant in potions work," the man continued, and all of the other occupants of the room seemed to pay every ounce of their attention to him as he spoke.
"Yes, sir," Severus agreed, looking up at the man a bit raptly. No reason for him to be humble about what was true, about what everyone knew was true. "I've the top marks for my grade, probably for the whole school, in Potions. And I know all sorts of spells that make the headmaster uneasy. He says I oughtn't know them, and shouldn't use them ever."
"That's a very good boy," the man praised with an almost hair-rising smile, turning his eyes to Lucius. "And you, boy?"
"Top of my class," Lucius said firmly. "And in every class. The only one who's better at me in anything is Severus. He's a potions genius. I don't mind," he decided, "as this makes for interesting independent research."
"Which is what the boys have been trying to do this summer," Porrima told the man in a most respectful tone, as she poured tea for him. No servants were even in the room, Severus noted silently. Then again, it was a Dark Wizard's tea. No servants probably wanted to be there.
"I haven't fixed my herb-drying techniques well enough, yet," Severus murmured, a half-excuse for how much he and Lucius's sexual play had gotten in the way of anything practical.
The man, surely someone of great importance considering the reactions of those around him, gave a cool smile. "Of course. And this has nothing to do with the fact that your companion is Veela and entering heat. No, no, you're young yet. It merely amuses me," he assured them, one brow raised. "Schooling is important, however, and perhaps you should apply yourselves a bit more fervently."
"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said politely, bowing from the waist. "We will do as you suggest."
Severus eyed Lucius for a moment, then looked curiously back at the man. 'My Lord'? "I'm sorry, sir, but I haven't your name, or any idea of who you are. Forgive me if I'm being rude."
"I am Lord Voldemort," the man informed him, and the words were quite enough to send a thrill of cool dread through him, dancing along his skin.
The Dark Wizard. The Darkest of dark wizards that was alive, the one that the papers nattered on skittishly about... Severus swallowed, letting that faint dread sink into his bones as he looked up at him. Not fear, but a simple, pervading sense that this was a turning point in his life, for good or for bad.
The Dark Lord had just told him to apply himself more in school.
"Ah." That soft noise was all Severus could manage, though he stood as firm as before, still looking up at him with curiosity.
"Yes, Severus?" It seemed that the man was willing to answer whatever it was that Severus had on his mind. Lucius's elbow in his side didn't prevent the dark-haired boy's curiosity, either.
"It's only that you don't seem evil," Severus said after a moment of unsure pause. "Not the way you're whispered about in school."
"Perhaps, then, they are lying to you about me." The answer was almost -- almost! -- gentle. "They do not want you to hear what I truly believe, or what is truly going on in the world. Young Lucius here, he has not explained this to you?"
Severus shook his head, but added, "I haven't asked, because I didn't know..." What exactly to ask. It was a great deal to take in, and Severus knew he'd spend a lot of that night, once Lucius was asleep, staring at the ceiling in thought.
"Lucius..."
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Why have you not yet explained these things to Severus?"
"He was living with his grandfather until very recently, my Lord. I didn't want to make life difficult for him before he was settled in at the Manor. My greatest apologies," Lucius murmured, even more pale than he would ordinarily be.
"His words are true, My Lord," Arioch murmured, from where he reclined nearby. "It has been a little difficult to settle young Severus into normal routines in these past few weeks that we've had."
"Of course," Voldemort said. "Lucius, I expect you to speak to Severus before I see you again. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered, head bowed.
"Very good. You are both dismissed." There was some small amusement in his gaze, in his words. "I'm sure you are... anxious to be alone to... discuss matters."
Severus spent a moment more looking at the powerful feeling man, a moment more than he should have. Then he smiled a little, and replied, "I'll do my best with this new change of perspective, sir."
"Most wise of you, young Snape. We will undoubtedly see one another again." A languid wave of Voldemort's hand let them know to go, and Lucius turned obediently enough to do so, knowing that Severus would follow him.
Severus turned, and trailed his friend with a slightly puppy-doggish air about him. Once the door was closed, he murmured, "That was interesting, Lucius."
The blond gave a deep sigh, as if he'd been awfully nervous, and continued hurriedly down the hall, back towards the library. "Yes. I think it went over rather well. You made a good impression, Sev..."
"Did I? I think I looked rather stupid," Severus mused softly. "After all, I didn't even know his name, and it seems like that should've been obvious to me, looking back."
"Trust me," Lucius said, and he smiled once they were back in the library. "Now, where were we...?"
"I want you to tell me about all of that back there, first," Severus wheedled, closing the door. "I don't want to play when there're things that need answers."
"It's just what I was telling you," Lucius replied. "It's for their own good, really. What sorts of questions do you have, Sev?"
"Why didn't Grandfather ever tell me what my parents were?" Severus wandered away a little, as Lucius sank into the chair of before. "That's rather something large to ignore."
"I think he was ashamed that they had died," Lucius decided. "I can't imagine that he would be ashamed of the cause. He was a pure blood. Of course, your grandfather was in Ravenclaw, wasn't he?" When Severus nodded, he continued. "Ravenclaws have strange ideas sometimes."
"They read a lot, and research..." Severus trailed off. "I do, too, but it's dull to just research for the sake of doing it. Things ought to come out of what you do."
"Precisely!" Lucius agreed. "That's all part of what Lord Voldemort wants. To be able to do the magic we research, to be free to use it, and not to have those filthy Mudbloods holding us down all of the time."
"But, the headmaster isn't a Mudblood," Severus countered. "And he doesn't think we should do everything that we learn."
"He's sympathetic to them, though, isn't he?" Lucius pointed out. "He prefers them to our kind, gives all kinds of commendations to them, especially those Gryffindors..."
All kinds of commendations... well, that was true, blindingly so -- but he gave them out to everyone, even if it was in smaller amounts. "I still like him," Severus said softly, as he wandered back towards Lucius and the comfortable chair. "He's helped me more than Professor Hecate ever has."
As much as Lucius wanted to say something, to make sure that Dumbledore would never be viewed by Severus as a friend again, he knew that he would have to step carefully. "Just be wary, Sevvie," he warned gently. "I don't want you getting hurt. That's all."
"I'm always wary," Severus reminded him, slipped, after a moment, to sit atop the other boy's lap once more. He was halfway to his drifting, thinking place, but Lucius could pull him from it if he wanted to badly enough. "The headmaster wouldn't hurt me -- and you remember that book on potions myths that I wanted to check out so badly, that Professor Hecate yelled at me for even asking about? He gave me the slip for it..."
Lucius sighed slightly. "I don't want you hurt, but you will do what you want, won't you, Sev? Come here and kiss me. Make it better," he urged.
"I like to learn things on my own," Severus agreed softly, squirming nearer atop Lucius. "Tomorrow I'm going to ask you about everything you can tell me about those people in there. Now I know what sort of questions to ask."
"I'll answer them all," Lucius promised, and further conversation was promptly lost in his kiss.
To hell with tea.
