Dark Lords Have Strange Taste

The letter from his mother left no doubt in his mind that she didn't agree with his "choices", but he was still her Ajit. One from his father, obviously written at his mum's insistence, tried to apologise, but it was strained. There was no mention of welcome, or any sort of restitution or agreement. Severus crumpled it and wanded it to a black flower of ash.

The blank parchment next to him came to life. We really are so very much alike, then, aren't we?

"Yes," Severus said softly. He picked up the sheet and let it droop against his chest. The touch warmed him. In his mind, he could hear a low voice murmuring soothing words that, from anyone else, would seem trite and senseless.

Snape shifted against the headboard. It snagged his vest and pulled the loose knit around his back. His bare shoulders looked pale next to the dark green of his bedspread. That was understandable, really; he'd just lost his entire family thanks to his dear father's idiocy. Or his own, it could go either way.

There was a tug at his curtains and Severus yanked them back. Lucius stood there, a rucksack thrown over his shoulder. "Sure you don't want to sneak out?"

Severus nodded. "Yeah, thanks. Don't want to get kicked out of school, now, do I?"

"I suppose not." Lucius shifted the weight on his shoulders. He was the last to leave: Wilkes had bounced out before anyone else had finished packing, eager to visit his mum, a Gringotts curse breaker in Cairo; Rosier, too, left as soon as he could, babbling something about his cousin from Cardiff promising to take him to meet the Holyhead Harpies over holiday. Nagendra was someplace with Devi, and Avery had wandered to the common room an hour earlier with his beloved Arithmancy book. "I've got to get out of here. Don't be too hard on Emeric, okay?"

"Why would I do that? I've got Gryffindors to play with." Lucius chuckled. "Yeah. A big one and a little one at that. Too bad the rest of them aren't staying."

Severus managed a weak, painful smile. "Fuck off, Luc. I need to owl Mum."

Lucius blinked, but he nodded. They both knew perfectly well that Snape would never contact his family by his own choice. "See you next year." He leaned in and kissed Snape softly.

Severus returned it, glad for the comfort but wishing it were someone else. "Yeah, next year." He waited until the door clicked shut before closing his curtains again.

The parchment curled slightly as if to push itself away from Severus' body. He picked it up and read, It's not easy being king, is it?

Snape snorted. Nobody - nobody - but Tom had any right to say that. "I wish you were here, Tom."

So do I.

"What was it like to be alone over Christmas?"

The parchment paused for a moment. Lonely, the green script read. That faded, and a minute later was replaced with, But I survived, as will you. The King of Serpents sheds one skin, only to grow another.

"I hope you're right."

I am. Trust me.

"With my heart and soul." Severus smiled as the parchment wriggled happily in his hand.

Too great of praise for the likes of me.

"No. Nobody else has ever listened to me like you do." He stroked a corner of the page. "Sometimes..."

Sometimes what?

Snape blushed. "It's stupid."

Nothing you say could ever be stupid. People's reactions, maybe, but not your words.

A warm tingle flooded out from Severus' sternum. "Sometimes," he said, averting his eyes, "I think I love you."

The page went stiff. If Snape didn't know any better he'd have said it was stunned. The words that rose were very small and shaky and looked like they'd been written by someone humbled beyond his own comprehension. I love you, too, Severus Ajit.

Severus' heart stopped for a single beat before doubling to make up for lost time. His hands trembled. Before he really understood what he was doing he lifted the sheet and pressed his lips against it. Something on the other side felt like it was straining hopelessly to get through. Stroking the edge, he whispered, "Wherever you are, Tom Riddle, I'll find you."

Tom didn't say anything, only curled around Severus' hand, and settled flat and warm when Snape once again cradled him against his chest.

 

There were only three of them at the Slytherin table: Severus, Emeric, and an annoying sixth year named Rita Skeeter. Severus and Emeric looked at each other, forlorn, as she chattered on and on and on; Severus started to wonder if life in Azkaban might really be all that bad.

"... And, of course, that dreadful Narcissa insisted that she was prettier. Really, just because Lucius Malfoy - you two know Lucius, of course, he's in your year - always goes to Hogsmeade with her doesn't mean anything. I told her, of course. She still insists that she's going to marry him. You know what I said? I told her, 'Listen, Narcissa, just because he pretends to like you doesn't mean he really does. I've seen the way he and Snape hang around each other-' Of course, no offence intended! But, really, the two of you ought to know by now that when two men treat each other the way you two do rumours are bound to spread." She finished with a chuckle.

"Rita?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"If you don't shut up I'm going to hex you."

She blinked. A slimy smile crept over her face. "Is that an admission I hear?"

"No, it's a threat."

Skeeter sniffed. "Well. I only thought you ought to know what people are saying about you."

"Rita, everybody in the House has known about Severus and Lucius since fifth year," Emeric pointed his fork at her heavy-jawed face. "Including Narcissa. Last I heard it didn't stop her from letting Lucius ram his tongue down her throat every chance he gets."

Severus leaned on his elbow, crushing one side of his face and looking utterly bored. "Are we finished? My supper's going cold."

Rita sulked. "Still doesn't change the fact that I'm prettier than she is."

"No, Rita, you're not. Narcissa is a goddess, and you are a trout in a bad wig."

Skeeter dropped her fork. She pursed her mouth and patted her elaborately curled hair. "Exactly what I'd expect from a queer, Severus Snape!"

"Oh, please. Just because I - not to mention anyone with an ounce of self-respect - won't give you a pity shag doesn't mean I'm queer." The fact that he, at heart, was didn't change the fact that Rita Skeeter was going to find herself in his bed when Hell reported an ice age.

She growled and picked up her fork. "I'll get you for this, Snape," she muttered under her breath.

"I'm so scared." Severus rolled his eyes and scooped up a fork of jacket potato.

In reality, he was. Lately, he'd seen some slippage in his absolute power. His mind was as sharp as ever - sharper, even - but since the match with Gryffindor he'd felt like he was falling to the same level as the rest of the school. The fact that it coincided more or less with the onset of his odd paleness and a slight irritable edge to his personality wasn't lost on Severus. He'd have to ask Tom if he knew anything about it.

Just to avoid looking at Skeeter's slit-eyed grimace, he looked over the other tables. Four students sat at the Ravenclaw table, avidly discussing something he couldn't make out and didn't care about anyway. A lone Hufflepuff had leaned over and apparently been adopted into Ravenclaw for the holiday. And, far across the Hall at the Gryffindor table, two eerily similar figures chattered happily, oblivious to the fact that nobody cared enough to keep them company.

Before the pang of sympathy secured itself, Severus turned his attention back to his plate. He took a few more bites and pushed the plate away. "Want me to stay?" he asked Emeric.

Avery shook his head. "I'll be fine."

Severus cast a quick glance at Skeeter, who was more interested in ignoring them than in being annoying, and left.

The common room didn't sound like a terribly pleasant place to be. In fact, it sounded downright dull for some reason. Severus went to fetch his broom instead, and went outside to practise his defencive flying.

It was a clear evening, with the moon near first quarter. There wouldn't be a werewolf problem until after Christmas, and that fact buoyed him somewhat. A thick, white blanket gleamed in the pale light. On the pitch it was ruffled only by the rings of footprints from Slytherin practise. Snape hadn't felt the slightest qualm at making them run in the snow. He had, however, felt an odd tightness in his chest and a weakness in his legs.

A little regular exercise ought to clear that up. Finishing the cigarette he'd rolled on the walk over, he settled on the bleachers to stretch. A few minutes later he set out at a slow jog, steadily upping his speed. His legs felt like they'd been filled with daggers. Severus didn't stop, only dropped to a slower pace with a sense of puzzlement. Much to his chagrin, the pain spread into his chest again, and out to his shoulders and arms. It felt like pushing atrophied muscle harder than it was ever meant to be pushed. Between Quidditch, heavy books, and regular sex, Snape had no idea when they could have atrophied.

In the end, he gave up on running and set to the air. That would doubtlessly get rid of the pain. It occurred to him that, perhaps, it was only the cold affecting his muscles. Yes, that must be it, only the cold. Making sure his hat was secure, he stretched out along his broom's handle and set into a dive from above the goals to nearly the layer of snow. Just before he plowed into it, he pulled up and came to a hovering stop twenty feet up.

The cold air left him feeling pleasantly isolated from the world. Closing his eyes and letting himself slip into a mild trance, Severus gripped the broom and, carefully, lifted himself so his legs were straight up in the air. His arms were pleasantly stiff, his back effectively rigid. He'd not held the position for less than five minutes comfortably since he was fifteen.

This time, though, his shoulders immediately began to tremble. One elbow buckled and, with a squawk, he crumpled. Breathing hard, Severus righted himself from his tenuous, one-handed and one-kneed grip. He was more than a little shaky when he set down.

His first thought was to go see Madam Pomfrey. That would lead to tests, though, and being kept overnight, and the last thing he wanted was to be used as a guinea pig. Snape found himself on the bleachers, gripping his skull and vibrating in unfamiliar fear. The odd thought that, somehow, Tom's salve had done something struck him. He shook it off.

"What's wrong with you?"

Severus snapped his head up. "What the fuck are you doing here, Lucius?"

"Came to see you." Lucius delicately brushed snow off the bench next to Snape and sat down. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go meet someone, but from the look of things you'd do better to lay down."

"How'd you get here? Did you miss the train?"

"I Apparated."

Severus looked up. Lucius looked smug. Severus blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I Apparated."

"You don't have your license yet."

Malfoy snorted and waved a black-gloved hand. "Dad taught me before we went to America. S'the advantage to having a place where the Ministry can't detect what goes on." He smiled, his tilted eyes gleaming. A blush had risen on his face in the chill. "Need to get inside?"

Severus shook his head and stood up. "I'm tired, that's all. What's this about meeting someone?"

"How would you like to meet the Dark Lord?"

Snape frowned. "You're barking."

Lucius shook his head. His smile widened to a grin. "I'm perfectly serious, Sev. He's eager to meet you."

"Is that who you introduced Adam and Evan and Emeric to?"

Lucius nodded. He looked innocent, and angelically beautiful in the warm silver light. "Please?"

Severus folded his arms. "I don't think so, mate." He prodded Malfoy's left arm. "I'm not walking out with one of those things."

"He doesn't want to recruit you, he only wants to meet you. Honestly. I've told him all about you, and he seems to think you're... how did he put it? A 'like-minded individual'."

Snape scowled. A biting feeling in his gut told him that, no matter how the Dark Lord phrased something, he wasn't Tom. Just because they used the same phrase once didn't mean... well, anything. His curiosity had been piqued, though. "How am I supposed to get there? I can't Apparate."

"It's not that far, we can fly."

Severus thought for a minute. He looked at his broom. Despite his steady adamancy that he didn't need any sort of self-proclaimed "Dark Lord" to guide him, there was something enthralling in the idea that the man would want to meet him. "I have to be back soon."

"That's fine. I'm sure he'll understand."

Slowly, still a little uncertain, Severus mounted his Nimbus. Lucius slid on in front of him. He wriggled back so he was pressed firmly against Severus' chest and groin. Severus wrapped his arms around the smaller body and held tight, his chin resting on a cloaked shoulder. Lucius turned his head for a small kiss.

"Not long."

Snape got the distinct impression it was a loaded statement.

It was a modest cottage, well kempt, set in a small, rocky valley where one could avoid the world for decades. Jagged granite mountains shielded it on all sides. Lucius touched down just outside the white picket fence. It made a startling contrast to its stark surroundings, even with everything hidden in a soft blanket of snow. The windows shone with light, and smoke rising in the windless night gave evidence of a pleasant fire inside.

"Doesn't look like anyplace I'd expect to find a Dark Lord," Severus remarked dryly, eyeing a thick holly bush dappled with red berries like blood.

"He's not what you'd expect. A bit homey for my tastes, but a nice enough fellow." Something in Lucius' voice was strained, but he covered it well. With only the slightest hint of hesitation, he trotted to the gate and touched it with his wand. It opened. "Wouldn't want to try going over it, mind. You'd be lucky to escape with only your bollocks cut off."

Severus grimaced. "If I leave missing any parts, Lucius-"

"You won't. Just be friendly. You'll get on fine."

Keeping a sharp eye open for any sort of movement, Severus followed Lucius through the gate. As soon as he did, power tingled on his skin. It felt like warm water running over him, purposeful. A few tendrils tried to inspect his head; he shook them off. He could have sworn he heard a laugh.

Lucius paused before knocking. His head was down, his eyes wide. He took a deep, shaky breath and brought his hand down on the door too quickly, three times. He took a step back and, if Snape didn't know better, cowered.

The door opened. "Lucius! This is a pleasant surprise!"

"For me as well, My Lord." He spoke into his chest. There was no surprise involved. Very quickly, Lucius knelt, brushed the hem of the man's robe against his lips, and stood. "I've brought him."

The man turned to look at Severus. He had black hair, dry as straw, that fell past his hips and was pulled back at his shoulder blades with some sort of hoop. His smooth skin was chalk white, nose oddly squashed as if it had been broken and not properly set, and there was something strange about his rusty eyes. Severus realised with a start that his pupils were vertical slits, like a cat or a snake. The buckled green robe that shrouded him, though, was supple and comfortable-looking, and his thin-lipped smile was warm. "Severus Snape, I presume?"

"Indeed." Snape kept a bit of distance - if the man expected his robes to be kissed he was sorely mistaken. There was something calming in the soft tenor voice; at the same time, it held a low hiss. It had to be due to his nose. Snape glanced down to see what he was standing on to bring their eyes level. To his slight surprise, the man was every bit as tall as he.

The hand Severus was presented was long and spindly. "I am Lord Voldemort. You may call me Voldemort, if you wish."

Suspiciously, Severus shook his hand. He was able to make out the line of a clavicle through the heavy wool of the deep green robe. "A pleasure, sir."

Voldemort laughed. It was a thin sound, sibilant and sultry. "You're suspicious and you know it. Excellent trait, that, nice to see it's still in the House." He motioned to them. "Come inside, it's freezing."

Lucius murmured his thanks and stepped over the threshold. His head was bowed, his movements a bit stilted. A large radiator stood next to the door and he quickly lay his cloak on top of it. It was an oddly Muggle device to see in the home of the Dark Lord. "Lucius, take your friend's things."

"Yes, My Lord." Lucius bowed low until Voldemort swept out of the small entryway.

Peeling off his cloak, but keeping his hat, Severus leaned close and whispered, "If he's so nice, how come you're acting like he's going to Cruciatus you if you breathe funny?"

Lucius stiffened. "I'm not. Just because he's nice doesn't mean he doesn't deserve respect!" A fleck of foam flew from Lucius' mouth. As quickly as he could, he left Snape's cloak over the radiator, and knelt to untie their shoes.

"What the Hell are you doing, Luc?"

"You don't want to track snow all over the rug, do you?"

With a sigh, Severus reluctantly allowed Lucius to get his shoes off. They went beside the radiator, and a moment later Lucius' joined them. Severus reaffirmed his resolution not to become one of Voldemort's followers, if this was how they acted.

"Do hurry, Lucius. The tea's getting cold."

Lucius swallowed. "Coming now, My Lord." He grabbed Severus' arm and whispered squeakily, "Just be nice. Please."

"I'll be nice. I have manners, you know. More than you."

Lucius looked uncharacteristically grateful.

The inside of the cottage, like the outside, was tidy and quaint. The sitting room was painted dark green, with a soft braided rag rug on the oak floor. It was the same green as the walls, shot through with black and shades of silver. Cheery flames crackled away in the fireplace. A Slytherin crest hung over the mantle. Voldemort sat in one of three large armchairs around a small table, smiling gently at them. He motioned to the other seats. Severus scowled at the crocheted doily draped behind Voldemort's head.

"Sit down, please. If you would, Lucius?" Voldemort motioned to the array of cups and dishes set out on the green-linen-draped table.

Severus sat, never taking his eyes off his host. For a Dark Lord, he seemed fairly useless. Voldemort watched Lucius prepare tea, a hint of an amused smile still on his face. He sat straight, almost primly, hands on his thin knees. Severus felt a pang of disgust - this was what made the wizarding world quake in terror?

Lucius poured tea as quickly as his shaking hands would allow. Into the first cup he squeezed a bit of lemon and added a single sugar cube before handing it reverently to his master. Yes, that's exactly what Voldemort was, his master. Lucius, chief advisor to the King of Serpents, was a lapdog. Severus snorted.

Voldemort looked up inoffensively from his cup. "Yes?"

"How can you stand it?" Snape shook his head. "I thought you were a Slytherin, Lucius. Where's your spine?"

Lucius squeaked and nearly dropped the flowered teapot. Voldemort arched a slender black eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, My Lord. He's not normally so blunt." Lucius tipped milk into a second cup. It splashed out on the table. He whipped out his wand and cleaned it up.

"Bollocks." Severus grabbed the pot and poured his own cuppa. Sniffing it carefully, he took a tiny sip. For a moment he held it in his mouth, trying to decide if he tasted anything suspicious. No, it was simply very good Darjeeling. He took a larger sip and went on. "Anyone who acts like such a bloody lapdog deserves to be in Gryffindor. Or, worse, Hufflepuff. It's sickening."

Lucius leaned back in his own chair. He seemed to be slipping into a minor catatonic state. His teacup sat empty and forgotten.

"Very interesting theory, Mister Snape." Voldemort wore an expression that could, in an instant, turn to mirth or murder. "Could you elaborate?"

Snape glanced at the Slytherin crest over the hearth. It seemed to slide and slither in the flickering light. "For a thousand years, Slytherin has been pushed to the ground. We live in the dungeons, we're called snakes and monsters, and we're treated with all the respect of your average flobberworm, but we've thrived. If Gryffindor were put where we are the House would be gone in months. I don't care how brave that lot is, give them a real challenge, make them use their brains. You'd think anyone who dared call himself a Slytherin would remember how to use his spine." He took another mouthful of tea and stared coolly at his host.

For an instant the ambiguous expression hovered. Suddenly, it shifted and Voldemort laughed. "An excellent argument. Lucius, you should be ashamed of yourself."

"Yes, My Lord." Lucius lowered his head even more.

"Cringing whelp," Voldemort muttered. He picked up a delicate china plate and held it out to Severus. "Biscuit?"

Severus took on and set it on his saucer with a slight nod. He didn't eat it.

Voldemort seemed undeterred. He took one himself and dunked it in his tea. "Lucius tells me your specialty is Potions. Any favourite branches?"

"Given that the branches tend to be dependent upon each other, I've chosen not to focus on any one."

The Dark Lord smirked and took a bite of crumbling pastry. "Come, now," he said after he'd swallowed, "you can't tell me there's not a particular array that inflames your senses?"

Snape furrowed his brow slightly. No, this couldn't be Tom. Doilies, for god's sake? "How can you ignore a diamond to focus on one facet?"

The smirk widened. Voldemort dropped his eyes coyly. "It's been too long since I've heard anyone talk about potions that way. Not since... it must have been thirty years ago." He looked wistful, his serpentine eyes hooded.

"At Hogwarts?" Snape asked cautiously.

Voldemort nodded. "There was a student in my year named Tom. Tom Riddle. You remind me of him. He loved Potions, too. Very intelligent, very outspoken young man."

Severus blinked. He leaned forward slightly, teacup resting on his knee. "You knew Tom?"

The Dark Lord nodded again and sipped his tea. "Well enough. You've heard of him, I take it."

Severus nearly blurted out that he'd met the boy, adored the boy, spent every moment he could with the boy, but his brain stopped him before he could. "I've heard a few things. Do you know where I could find him? I'd like to talk to him."

Voldemort shot him an apologetic look. "I'm afraid Tom Riddle hasn't walked the Earth in quite some time. He vanished completely not long after leaving school."

"Ah." Severus had to set his teacup on the table to prevent it from falling off his knee. The inside of his chest felt like it had collapsed. Silently, he stood up. "I'm afraid I have to get back. I have things to take care of."

Voldemort stood as well, and motioned for Lucius to follow. He held out a hand. Severus shook it, trying not to act sullen. "I hope you'll come back soon, Severus. It's so rare to find someone... a like-minded individual." He smiled, a bit sadly. "If you'd like, perhaps I could tell you a little about Tom?"

Hesitantly, Snape said, "I think I'd like that, sir, thank you." There was still a great deal about Tom's background he didn't know: why his father abandoned him, why his mother died alone. If nothing else, at least he might be able to fill in some of the gaps.

"Tell Lucius when you'd like to stop by, he'll arrange it with me." Voldemort guided them to the door and even helped Severus on with his cloak. "Lucius, if you have a minute?"

Lucius went from white to deathly white. "Of course, My Lord."

"Good lad. I regret that I must ask you to wait outside, Severus. We won't be long."

Severus nodded and stepped out into the cold. From the stoop, he thought he heard Lucius nervously mutter a soundproofing charm. He frowned.

It was a couple of minutes later that the door opened and Lucius walked stiffly out. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked ready to pass out. Voldemort smiled and said to Severus, "I hope you weren't too uncomfortable."

"No, sir."

The Dark Lord smiled. "I'd ask you again to simply call me Voldemort, but it's a dreadful mouthful, isn't it?" He touched Severus' cold face. "So much like Tom." The warm smile came back, tainted with some distant longing. "Goodnight." The black door closed, leaving Severus and Lucius alone.

The half-hour flight back was silent. Snape held Lucius tight around the waist. Were he not so preoccupied with his privately shattering heart he probably would have asked what happened. Somehow, he suspected Lucius didn't want to talk about it.

Lucius staggered back into the woods with the tersest of farewells, and Severus dragged his broom back up to the dormitory. Emeric was in the common room, calmly reading, while Rita nattered on. Severus squinted - Emeric was wearing a pair of Zonko's Never-Get-Caught Earplugs. With a subvocal chuckle, Severus sneaked upstairs.

It was only going on nine. He dragged his clothes off anyway, left his Nimbus across his trunk, and tossed his hat on its customary bedpost. Tenderly, he pulled the blank parchment out of his drawer. "I found out what happened to you, Tom."

Yes? The page rippled excitedly. What?

"You're..." the word stuck in his throat. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Tom said nothing, only curled slightly. Severus pressed the page to his bare chest and settled under the covers. He stayed like that, unable to find sleep, for a very long time.

Sport And Warfare

Severus growled and punched his pillow. He'd not had this much trouble falling asleep on Christmas Eve since he believed in Father Christmas. Once again, he tried to tell himself it was the stress of losing his family, learning about Tom, seeing Lucius for the coward he'd been hiding all these years. That would eventually be overcome by exhaustion, though. It had been five days, and the excuse was growing rather thin.

"Still can't sleep?" Emeric's voice came through the darkness.

"I'm sound asleep right now, can't you tell?" Severus snapped in response.

"You don't have to be nasty about it."

"What do you expect me to do?"

"I don't know. Wank like the rest of us?"

Severus snorted. "Please. As if I'd resort to something that crass."

"If it works, do it."

"If you're so determined that I need to relax, Avery, why don't you come over and do it yourself?"

There was a growl, and a thump, and suddenly the curtains around Severus' bed were thrust back. Emeric's wand lit his freckled face and made his strawberry blonde hair look like anaemic meat. "If that's what it takes to get some peace around here, I will." He climbed in, clad in a Coed Naked Quidditch T-shirt and plaid boxers. "Budge up, you're hogging the bed. Don't know how Malfoy can stand it."

"Nice pillow talk, Emeric. Are you this romantic on all your dates?"

"Shut up, Severus." He rolled his eyes and set his wand on the table where it made a soft, encompassing glow. "Budge up."

"You're serious."

"No shit."

Severus opened his mouth to speak, then gave up and fell on his pillow, exasperated. "Go back to sleep, Avery. I'll do it myself."

"Excuse me, Mister I-Don't-Wank, but I came all the way over here, barefoot, in the freezing cold. If you even think you're going to kick me out, you can stick it up your arse."

"Not half demanding, are you?"

"Do you want me to do it or not?" Emeric stretched out and straddled one of Severus' legs.

Severus rolled his eyes and was about to give his grudging assent when he noticed something on Avery's left arm. He grabbed it, and Emeric yelped.

"What the Hell did you do that for, Severus?"

Severus pointed to the skull. "When did you get this?"

Emeric pushed his scruffy hair out of his eyes. "Last month. Not that it's any of your business."

Snape shoved him to the side. "You people make me sick. All you do is simper and cringe for your master. What happened? Did you all have your spines removed?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Snape?"

"I'm talking about Lucius cowering before your 'Dark Lord' like some sort of dog! Believe me, I've met him and... for god's sake, Emeric, Pettigrew would make a better Dark Lord."

The blood faded from Emeric's skin. "Don't say that," he hissed.

"Why not? It's true. If I wanted to declare myself the 'Dark Lord' I'd bloody well have all of Europe wetting itself inside two years! He's been at it, what, six? Six and a half? He's a nice fellow, but, really, is he worth pissing yourself every time you breathe too loudly?"

Emeric clamped a hand over Severus' mouth. "Shut up! You haven't even met him, have you? If you had any brains you'd treat him with some respect!"

Severus yanked Emeric's hand away. "He didn't seem to mind when I told him what I thought of his followers."

Emeric gaped.

"What?" Severus snapped.

"You talked back to the Dark Lord."

"Yes, I talked back to the Dark Lord. Have you got a problem with it?"

Avery shook his head slowly. "When did you turn into a Gryff? I thought they were the only ones that stupid."

"When did you lot forget how to use your fucking spines?"

"About the same time he put the Cruciatus on me for two solid minutes, that's when! All I did was what Malfoy told me, remember my manners and be nice. Fat lot of good it did me!"

Severus blinked coldly. "Maybe you should've shown some balls. If he's such a bastard, why this?" He prodded Avery's arm hard enough to leave a red mark.

"Are you joking? Give up access to that much power? I don't know what House you're in sometimes, but I've got ambition. There's a new world being built and I want a part of it."

Snape sighed. "You're such a fucking idiot sometimes, Emeric. Ambition is one thing, sucking up is completely another. Until you learn the difference, I don't know how you can call yourself a Slytherin."

"Bite me, Severus."

"Only if you ask nicely." Snape smiled sweetly and fluttered his lashes.

Avery cackled hoarsely. "Right. I'm going to ask nicely while you get all of us smeared halfway across Britain."

"Get over it. Do you want a shag or not?"

"I want to get out of school in one piece, s'what I want," Emeric muttered.

"Fine. Get out of my bed." Severus kicked at Emeric.

Emeric yelped. "I said I want to get out of school in one piece! That includes not having the crap kicked out of me. For fuck's sake, Severus, let me get my damn clothes off."

"I don't need pity fucks, Avery."

"S'not a pity fuck. It's a shut-the-fuck-up fuck."

Severus growled. "You'd better make it worth my time."

"Yeah, yeah. What else are you going to do? Sleep? God, just taking a sleeping draught next time." Avery skinned out of his clothes and burrowed under the covers.

"You've done this before, right?"

A reddish head popped out over Severus' stomach. "'Course I have. Sort of."

"Sort of?" Snape folded his arms and arched an eyebrow.

"Erm..." Emeric ducked back under the covers. "I used a banana."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Severus hauled Emeric out from under the blankets. "You're not getting your teeth anywhere near my tackle until you've had some practical instruction."

"Let go, Severus! That's my ear!"

Severus dropped him. Emeric sat there, straddling Severus' waist, blankets up to his shoulders. He rubbed his left ear, scowling.

"Like I said, you're not getting your teeth anywhere near my tackle until you know what you're doing."

"I know what I'm doing. My sister taught me. She's had more experience than anyone."

Snape looked at him, unimpressed. He sat up. "Lay down, Avery."

Avery lay down.

With a heavy sigh, Severus stretched out between his legs. He gazed down at Emeric's limp prick. "You're eager."

"Just fucking get it over with." Avery looked somewhere between affectedly bored and scared shitless. Severus grinned, baring his pointed canines, and Avery squeaked.

"Wimp." Shaking his head, Severus leaned forward and took the flaccid lump of flesh in his mouth. He tried to say, "You see? Not hard. At all," but all that came out was a series of metred humming sounds. He raised his eyebrows and motioned with his hand before setting in to suck lightly, letting the gumdrop-shaped glans slide back and forth in its loose skin.

Emeric whimpered softly. "You've done this before."

Severus took the gradually hardening prick out of his mouth and stroked it. "What do you think Lucius and I've been doing since we were fourteen?"

"Practise makes perfect, I suppose."

Severus snorted and went back to gentle sucking. He stayed at the same pace and pressure until Emeric was fully hard. "You see?" he said, going back to stroking for a minute. "Steady pressure without forcing anything is the way to start. As long as you remember where your teeth are, you won't have any problems at this point."

"Uh-huh. Get on with it." A sheen of sweat had broken out on Emeric's body.

"I wonder what your marks would be like if you were this eager in Charms."

"Shut up and do it, okay?"

"Hmph. That's real gratitude, that is." Severus sniffed haughtily and plunged back into his work. He'd never admit it, but he was having the most fun he'd had in a while, tormenting poor Emeric. It didn't hurt that the sheer control he had was giving him an erection that could punch a hole through case hardened steel. He rubbed it lazily against the bed while attempting to teach by example the finer points of deep throating.

Avery moaned loudly. He wrapped a hand in Severus' hair. "Marry me," he groaned.

Severus glanced up with his mouth full. He held up two fingers, and let the long, slender cock slide into his throat again. His nose nestled in pinkish curls. Before he pulled back, he took the insulting fingers and pressed them into the spongy flesh behind Emeric's scrotum.

Emeric yowled. His body wracked with spasms and Severus had to focus on massaging the glans with his tongue to keep from choking. "Oh, my god!" Emeric panted. "What was that?"

"Prostate." Snape immediately dived back into teaching.

"Fuckin' Hell," Avery muttered, dazed. "Forget Potions, Severus. Do this for a living - you'll make a bloody fortune!"

"Oh? What am I supposed to do? Set up a shop for lonely wizards somewhere down Diagon Alley?"

"I'll have a standing appointment. Would you please shut the fuck up?" Emeric reached down and pushed Severus' head into place.

Severus smiled. Greedily, he sucked at random intervals, letting the shaft slide between his lips to press down on his massaging tongue, then pulling back hard, sucking for all he was worth. Emeric's steady, building moans and garbles told him what was most welcome.

Just out of curiosity, Severus dragged his teeth up the tender skin. Lucius liked it, so what the Hell? Avery winced. "Careful, jackass."

"I was careful. You should feel it when I'm not." Without waiting for a response, he tongued the edge of foreskin around the delicate slit at the tip. Emeric groaned and squeezed Severus' head. So. That was certainly welcome. Flicking back and forth, he loosened it, encouraging the entire glans to show itself. Emeric started thrusting. Severus had to lay an arm across his hips to hold him still.

"Oh, god, please, let me come."

Taking the tip between his lips, Snape shook his head. Avery sobbed, and Snape had to apply pressure to hold him down. The fingers digging into his skull applied nails. Snape reached up with his free hand to loosen them.

He kept up the teasing torment for as long as he could. His own erection throbbed, and it was getting a bit chafed from the blankets. Finally, Severus took pity, in his own special way. He slowly took Emeric into his throat one last time, easing down until he mouthed crisp hairs, then slid up, sucking and swallowing to the keening song of frenzy. When he let go, a tear ran down Emeric's temple and vanished in his hair.

"Let me... please..." he whimpered. Weak hands tried to push Severus down again.

"I don't think so, Emeric."

Emeric managed to lift his head. His eyes were round, and glowed with disbelief. "You bastard." He let his head drop to the mattress and shook with leashed, desperate sobs.

"I want something out of this, too. Somehow, I get the feeling you won't be up to returning the favour once I'm done, so you can either suck me now before I let you finish, or we can shag."

"I don't care." Avery thrashed his head from side to side. He tried to grab his cock; Severus slapped his hand away.

"Shagging it is, then." Snape sat up to get the jar of lotion. "Have you ever done this before?"

"Only with girls." Cobalt blue eyes caught him and begged.

"Bloody Hell," Snape muttered under his breath. "Fucking virgins."

"I'm not a virgin!"

"As far as I'm concerned, mate, you are. Goddammit." Severus rubbed his eyes. It was familiar territory, and, quite frankly, he was sick of it. Sometimes it seemed like the entire world had to be introduced to the pleasures of the flesh slowly, carefully, and right when all he wanted was to get off. Seeing as he had to live with Emeric until June, he'd better be nice. "Bend your knees."

"What're you doing? I'm going to be on top, right?"

"Not with that thing ready to go off, you aren't. I'm not going to have you come and fall asleep on me three seconds in. There're two of us here, you know."

Emeric stared. His irises showed round and bright in white sclera. He pushed himself up on his elbows and let his gaze drift from Severus' face, down his long body, all the way to his crotch. For a moment he frowned, eyebrows pinched, muttering equations under his breath. Suddenly his eyes went even wider than before. "Holy fuck," he breathed. "I'll pop!"

"You won't pop. Just relax and this'll be easier for everyone involved."

"Can't I just use my hand?"

Severus poked Avery's rough palm. "Not with those calluses, mate."

"Come on. They add friction!"

"If you want friction, that's fine. Personally, I'll take something that won't circumcise me by the time it's done with." Severus was secretly pleased to see Avery wince.

"Fine. Only, be careful, okay?"

"Always." Snape dipped four fingers into the lotion. "Just lay back, hold my hand if you need to. This might hurt a little." He slid his index finger from the base of Emeric's scrotum to the small, red pucker bared by his bent legs.

At the first shallow push, sharp fingers dug into Severus' arm. He hissed. "Ow, goddammit! Get off me! I said 'hold my hand', you idiot, not 'rip my arm off'!" He shook himself loose and offered his free hand instead. "Just relax, would you? It can't be that bad."

"How would you know?" Avery muttered through clenched teeth.

"Do I really need to give you the details?" He smirked as Emeric sighed softly and tried, once again, to relax.

It took quite a while to get him to calm down enough to get a finger in completely and slide it back and forth with ease. As reward, Severus sought out and tickled the small lump of prostate. Emeric groaned, bucked, and loosened. Severus added a second finger and repeated the whole process. "Not bad, for a straight boy," he said smugly.

"Fuck you, Snape." There was no resolve behind the breathy voice. Severus added a third finger and wiggled them. Emeric panted erratically. "Oh, god. Can I change that to 'fuck me'?"

"Maybe." Severus teased him for several minutes yet, landing glancing brushes to the small gland and slowing down whenever it looked like Emeric might finish without him. There was an odd sense of power in bringing a (more or less) virgin to peak with his cock. His smallest finger joined the others, and Emeric whined when he opened them.

"Just do it now, you bastard." Emeric tried to sit up; his body didn't quite agree.

"Pushy, are we?" Severus was having a hard time not simply slamming in and getting it over with, so he slid his hand out (much to Avery's annoyance if those strange noises meant anything) and rubbed it over his own cock as long as he dared. "Hold still, and let me know if I need to stop."

"Get on with it already!"

A flare of annoyance rose unexpectedly in Severus' chest. "If that's the way you're going to act, then fine!" he snapped. He got on his hands and knees and, with one sharp, angry thrust, pushed his way into Avery.

Avery howled. "Jesus fucking Christ, Severus!"

"Don't tell me what to do when you don't know what the Hell's going on."

"What crawled up your arse and died?"

Severus didn't want to share that answer. Frowning, he started to thrust his hips. It was a bit of a job to go slowly until Emeric's whimpers told him he could safely speed up. The sound of flesh slapping flesh grew louder, interspersed with heavy groans and whimpers. Legs wrapped around his waist and tightened.

Snape tried to focus on bumping Emeric's prostate as much as he could. It seemed to calm him down, and after that entry Snape actually felt a little guilty. This was one of his fellow Slytherins, after all, someone he'd lived and studied with for six and a half years. He pushed a few strands of moist hair out of Emeric's flushed face.

He fell into a steady rhythm, quick and slick and regular. The sensation of daggers was starting to come back to his legs and hips, but he didn't stop. They were both too close. Suddenly, Avery groaned, gasped, and shoved himself hard against Severus' cock. He humped wildly for a few seconds, legs tensing, and with a vicious groan came in a series of wild jerks, sending puddles of semen about his furry stomach.

Severus gritted his teeth and pumped faster. Emeric was limp and panting and pliable and willing, but the atrophied pain was insistent. Hooking his hands underneath freckled shoulders, he slapped his hips against Emeric's backside as hard and fast as he could. He closed his eyes. Air ran fast and harsh through his mouth. Suddenly, the sense of impending oblivion touched him. His screaming hips shimmied. The wire of tension twisted, snapped, and whipped back hard, and he nearly passed out from the flood of torment and release.

He collapsed backwards on the bed, Avery's legs still trapped beneath him. Neither spoke. It was too much just to breathe. Severus gulped air. His legs felt like they'd been pulverised. Beneath the burning in his lungs, he was afraid.

It was almost a relief when Emeric crawled up the bed and spooned behind him. They lay there, sweaty and panting and crusted with drying white smears. Severus grumbled something about Emeric getting back to his own bed. By the time he was able to say it coherently, Emeric was asleep.

I give up. Frowning more than was really warranted, Snape pulled the covers over them both. Emeric's extinguished wand clattered on the floor. He tried to imagine it was Tom who held him so securely, who breathed softly into his back. It hurt too much. That was never going to happen, and just imagining it threatened to crack something vital. He closed his eyes, and was more than a little frustrated when it took him most of an hour to fall asleep.

"Happy Chr-oh, my."

Severus opened one eye to see Rita Skeeter standing in the doorway, her rhinestone glasses glinting. She smirked. "Isn't this a pleasant little picture?"

Emeric was still wrapped around him. Severus' own arms grasped his. The covers had slid down, leaving them naked from the hips up. Emeric stirred. "Wha'time'zit?"

"Nearly nine," Rita said smugly.

Emeric bolted upright. "Holy shit!"

"Skeeter, fuck off," Severus said calmly.

"Why would I do that? Looks like you've got the monopoly already."

"What do you want?" Emeric's voice trembled.

Rita shrugged. "I don't know. Money, maybe?"

"We don't have any," Snape said into his pillow. "Quite frankly, I couldn't give a rat's arse who you tell. Just get the fuck out of our room before I drop you off the Astronomy Tower."

Skeeter tutted. "Idle threats aren't very becoming, Severus."

"They're not idle." He fixed her with an annoyed, drowsy gaze. She shifted from foot to foot.

"Well. There are presents downstairs for both of you, if you can pull yourselves together enough to care. Or would you rather keep shagging?"

"We weren't shagging!" Avery's voice broke.

"I have a hard time buying that, Emeric. Two boys, naked in bed, wrapped around each other, one a known faggot-"

Severus snarled and grabbed his wand. Insults were one thing, insults from blabby Rita Skeeter completely another. He pointed it at her and shouted, "Aranea caesaries!"

A single black spider ran down the side of Rita's face. Then another. And another. Within seconds, tiny arachnids poured up and down her hair, her face, her throat, training down the neck of her robe and running out her sleeves or onto her feet. She screamed and ran. Her shrieks echoed through the whole of Slytherin.

Emeric stared with a blank expression. "We're so dead," he muttered.

"No, we're not. Nobody's going to give a fuck. Anyway, the spell only lasts a couple of minutes."

Avery didn't seem to hear. Instead, he started rocking slowly back and forth. His breath whistled in his chest. "My mum's going to kill me. My dad's going to kill me again. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, I'm so dead."

"Get over it, Avery. Nobody's going to care!" Severus freed himself from tangled sheets and dug out a clean pair of shorts. "Really, you're acting like you slaughtered half of London."

"I don't think they'd be as upset if I had! Oh, god, what was I thinking?" He buried his face in his hands.

"Something along the lines of, 'I want Severus to ram his cock up my arse right now', if I recall. I might remind you, it was your idea in the first place." Snape tugged on a vest. It fell loose around his chest. His trousers hung in a similar fashion; only the wide leather braces kept them from falling around his hips. He pursed his lips and dragged on a concealing robe.

"How can you be such a cold prick? This is my life I'm talking about!"

"You didn't see me turn into a sobbing nancy boy when my parents kicked me out, did you? For the same reason, I might add." Severus pulled on his hat.

"You didn't seem too happy."

"But I got over it. Do me a favour and grow up." He turned, shaking his head. "I'll be in the common room if you want me."

Avery didn't answer. As he closed the door, Severus thought he heard the soft, wheezing sound of asthmatic sobs.

Emeric didn't look up through the entire Christmas feast.

He'd come downstairs reeking of Easy Breathing, opened his presents, cried over the broom his parents bought him, gone back upstairs, and spent the entire day crumpling wads of parchment, trying to write them a letter. He'd only sent it off a few minutes before the feast.

Professor Fellus, in his usual incompetent way, asked Avery how he was doing, and looked too shaken by the snapped "Fine" to ask again. Professor Dumbledore, biased old fool that he was, only looked at the bowed, pale reddish head with concern. The rest of the meal, he was cheerful.

Next to Avery, Severus picked at his food. Nobody bothered to ask him how he was, or if he was hungry, or why he looked like he'd just lost the love of his life. Rita glared at him the whole time, which didn't help.

The rest of the table nattered happily. The Lupin brothers, who'd apparently gotten more presents from their friends than any twisted creatures of the night deserved, claimed the crackers the Slytherin contingent didn't want and spent half of supper setting off explosions. Romulus wore two hats, a Napoleon with a tri-coloured rosette and a wide-brimmed witch's hat covered with neon flowers, one on each side of his head. He kept turning one way and doing stupid French voices, then the other and chirping back at himself. Remus nearly choked on his goose, laughing.

About the time even Rita started sniggering with the rest of the table, Severus excused himself and went back to his room. He shoved aside the silver cauldron Lucius had sent, and a book on Dai Llewellyn from Hadrian (the only present he got from any member of his family), and flopped down. The house-elves had made the bed while he unwrapped gifts, and presumably changed the sheets. That was good. Some part of him felt supremely unfaithful, although he couldn't properly justify it if he tried.

Go on to the fifth part of the story

 

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