A/N: I'm not captain of the ship Luc&Sev for nothing! My first lemon (okay, MbN "Philosophers" will get lemony too, and technically, that's the first, but work with me, people!) fic would of course be with them. For the unenlightened:
Lemon--fanfiction story containing sexual content of a somewhat graphic nature
'Ship'--short for 'relationship'. This one is a slash ship, m/m.
The back button comes in very handy if you do not wish to read about such things. I'll tell you when your last chance to hit it before the action starts. All flames you feel the need to send will thus be the direct result of your stubborness/stupidity/inability to read the font size you selected all that well. So just save us all the hassle and be on the look-out for my double-brackets: [[A/N]]
Possible tie-in with "Morningstar's Requiem," if you dear readers wish it so.
"A Very Good Friend I Don't Know at All"
a harry potter: the forgotten people fanfic
November 1977
The fourth-year Slythrins shuffled out of the Great Hall in low spirits. After lunch was the hell class, double Transfiguration with Gryffindor. Although Professor McGonagall did not openly favor her House, the class had been a sinkhole of points for the Class of '80 since their first lesson.
The doubles classes switched every two years. For the Class of '79, it was the same configuration of Tranfiguration, of Herbology with Hufflepuff, and Potions with the Ravenclaws. But, for '81 and '82, Slythrin paired with Ravenclaw for Care of Magical Creatures and with Gryffindor for Herbology. It was a complicated system which had confused students with its randomness for ages. The master Arithmancer Mathias Pirelinus had attempted to create a mathematical formula to calculate the arangements.
He died thinking himself a failure.
Lucius Malfoy did not consider himself a failure. Malfoys were not allowed to think such things. They were, however, allowed to think of devious ways to excuse themselves from distasteful tasks, a glorious tradition begun by Jacques Luc-Pierre Malfoy. Jacques faked the extremely contagious Flobbercough, so called because the lungs became clogged by a thick, gluey brown substance reminiscent of Flobberworm secretion, in order to dodge the call to duty for the Crusades in which 5,000 warrior-wizards were killed.
As it was, Lucius clung to Tobiel Lestrange's sleeve and groaned piteously, "Tobiel, old friend, please! I beg you!"
Tobiel rolled his golden eyes and attempted unsuccessfully to shake Lucius from his robes. "I said no, Luce. If you want to pretend to have the Volgandian Stomach Flu, do the Viperilious hex to your stomach on your own."
Lucius grabbed the other boy by his curly, light-brown hair and stared directly into his eyes, silver boring into gold. He hissed through gritted teeth, "It doesn't work that way! You have to do it, Tobe!"
Calmly, Tobiel held Lucius's wrists and replied, "This intimidation technique worked maybe the first two or three times you did it. But I'm too used to you to be scared, Lucius." They stood in an alcove which once held the statue of Baron Von Rothbart, who had terrorized the kingdoms of what later became Germany and spawned the tale of the Swan Princess with his magical tyranny. The statue had fallen victim to a box of frozen Dungbombs being set off in the corridor last December.
Lucius sighed and released his best friend. They picked up their schoolbags and moved on in micro-depression to Mc Gonagall's classroom.
A black blur emerged from one of the staircases leading from the dungeons (or down to, depending on your starting point) and slammed right into them.
When the Filibuster-like stars faded from Lucius's vision, the black blur had resolved itself into Severus Snape, a Slythrin in the year below Tobiel and Lucius. "Oh!" Severus cried once he saw who had fallen victim to his mad rush. He dropped to his knees and began gathering the scattered school supplies, talking rapidly with his head down and eyes hidden. "Malfoy, Lestrange, I'm sorry; here, let me help you get your things!"
"It's okay, Snape." Tobiel responded, rubbing his leg where it had hit the flagstones. It was custom for Slythrin males to refer to each other by surnames in public. To do otherwise was only allowed between close friends or in a flunkie-to-mastermind kind of situation.
The three managed to sort out all the things among themselves. As they did so, Severus explained, "I stayed after to talk to Professor Jigger about tutoring some other students, and I thought I was going to be late."
"If we hurry, none of will be." Lucius said, looking up from shoving his books into his bag. Severus smiled at him and nodded, then began running toward the Charms classroom.
"Thanks, see you later!" He called back over his shoulder.
Tobiel grabbed Lucius's arm and said, "Come on, or the harpy will have our heads hanging in Filch's office!"
****
"...and therefore, human transfiguration is very possible. It is self-transfiguration, the earning of the title 'Animagus,' which is difficult. It is explained in 'Self is Not Body: The Essential Animagical Handbook' by Alma de Corazon that..."
Lucius scrawled 'human trans easy, animagus difc. Find Self not Body (underlined) in libr' on his notes and went back to daydreaming. The way Severus's eyes lit up, like black fire, his face so bright and beautiful with that smile...
He wondered what it would be like to kiss him. What would Severus do if Lucius kissed him? Would--
"Mr. Malfoy, could you tell me the second step in self-transfiguration?" Professor McGonagall, the harpy, asked in her nastiest of voices, the kind she used when she was fairly certain that the student she asked had no clue what the answer was.
"Hmm, let's see," Lucius muttered, shuffling through his notes. Professor McGonagall covered her eyes with one hand and rubbed her temples as though she had a headache.
"Mr. Malfoy, I just told the class the first three steps two minutes ago."
"Yes, but I referred back to the lecture on human transfiguration for comparison and I lost my place on the notes..." Lucius explained, glancing furtively at the sheet of parchment in his lap, passed there by Evan Rosier when the harpy hadn't been looking. "Oh, here...'Second step: progressive visualization of new form.' That's right, isn't it, Professor?"
A sour look passed fleetingly over McGonagall's features as she conceded, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, that is correct. Five points to Slythrin for your answer."
****
"You lucky bastard! It's a good thing you're such a convincing actor!" Tobiel snapped, punching Lucius lightly on the shoulder. They were safe in the Slythrin common room after supper and were doing their homework.
"Lucky that Ross takes such good notes." Lucius corrected, rubbing his shoulder.
Anton Crabbe laughed. He shoved his reading glasses up to the bridge of his strong, Italian nose and mimicked, "I tried to compare two things on my notes and lost my place, Professor."
Lucius shook a fist at darker blond and threatened, "Don't make me angry, Crabbe."
"You wanna take this outside, Malfoy?"
"Yeah, why not?" Lucius sneered, acting the tough.
"Yes, please do. *Some of us* are attempting to pass our classes with decent work, if you don't mind too terribly much," broke in an ice-cold voice from near the fire. The four boys at the table with Malfoy turned to see Severus Snape sitting on the brick, rolls of parchment and potion ingredients spread all around him. The younger Slythrin's pale face was lit by the yellow flames, making his annoyed expression slightly sinister.
"Right. Shut up, you two, and help me on this Defense load." Tobiel said after a moment of silent surprise had held the fourth-year boys. It passed, and the common room fell back into the rise and fall of the quiet murmurs of study hour.
****
****
February 1978
Severus was one of a whole group of boys in the year below Lestrange, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Rosier who had almost immediately become their friends. His best friend was a blonde and blue-eyed three-quarters French kid named Gabriel Malcolm, a cheerful and fun-loving character who was his total opposite. Gabriel was the only one who really knew Severus well.
It had been nearly three months since their collision in the hallway, and Lucius still couldn't stop thinking about him. How much did he know about the quiet, intelligent boy with the textbook knowledge of curses and the prodigious talent for potions? Hardly anything except what Severus let him know.
It was Valentine's Day tomorrow. And it was almost unforgivibly sappy and sweet, but Lucius had an idea.
****
Severus sat down at the Slythrin table in the Great Hall and nodded in response to the greetings he recieved. He picked up his napkin to spread it out on his lap and a thornless black rose fell out.
Instantly, Gabriel announced in a sing-song voice to the entire House, "Severus has an ad-mir-er!"
"Shut up, you twit." Severus inspected the flower in front of him on the tablecloth with distaste. "It'll probably blow up if I touch it."
Simon Goyle prodded the offending floral object with his fork. "I believe it's non-explosive, Snape. It's got a black ribbon on it, too."
"More morbid than romantic, if you ask me." Jerome Parkinson grumbled, pouring himself a goblet of pumpkin juice. He glanced over at Severus and declared, "*I* wouldn't touch it."
Meanwhile, someone at another table had caught Gabriel's little announcement. Right after Jerome finished saying this, James Potter said loudly,
"An admirer? Snape? Funny, I didn't know that a blind moron was at Hogwarts."
Snape's face went just the barest shade of pink, and his eyes glittered like slits of volcanic glass. He snatched up the rose and tugged the ribbon off. In looping silver script, the ribbon read: 'You're a very good friend I don't know at all. I'd like to get to know you better.'
Severus raised a skeptic eyebrow and passed it to Gabriel. "What do you make of this, Gabe?"
"Strange. But harmless." He wound the black fabric around his finger and suggested, "Maybe the Marauders pulled it, for a laugh or something."
Severus shrugged and lifted a sticky bun from its fellows on a tray. "I'd expect an explosion from those children. Not enough subtlety or class in all four of them together for that." He took a bite, then suddenly held the pastry up to his face, and muttered, "What in world...?"
The uncovered half circle of a silver ring glinted from it.
Gabriel shook his head and whispered in Severus's ear, "It's someone at the table. They had to bewitch that bun while it was in your hand."
Severus nodded. "This is too strange."
"Very strange, my friend."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
A/N: This is what we call setting the stage. I decided to break off here, because the mood is definitely not right. Don't worry, just hit the little [] button.
Review here, or in Ch. 2! But do review! v^_^
Lemon--fanfiction story containing sexual content of a somewhat graphic nature
'Ship'--short for 'relationship'. This one is a slash ship, m/m.
The back button comes in very handy if you do not wish to read about such things. I'll tell you when your last chance to hit it before the action starts. All flames you feel the need to send will thus be the direct result of your stubborness/stupidity/inability to read the font size you selected all that well. So just save us all the hassle and be on the look-out for my double-brackets: [[A/N]]
Possible tie-in with "Morningstar's Requiem," if you dear readers wish it so.
"A Very Good Friend I Don't Know at All"
a harry potter: the forgotten people fanfic
November 1977
The fourth-year Slythrins shuffled out of the Great Hall in low spirits. After lunch was the hell class, double Transfiguration with Gryffindor. Although Professor McGonagall did not openly favor her House, the class had been a sinkhole of points for the Class of '80 since their first lesson.
The doubles classes switched every two years. For the Class of '79, it was the same configuration of Tranfiguration, of Herbology with Hufflepuff, and Potions with the Ravenclaws. But, for '81 and '82, Slythrin paired with Ravenclaw for Care of Magical Creatures and with Gryffindor for Herbology. It was a complicated system which had confused students with its randomness for ages. The master Arithmancer Mathias Pirelinus had attempted to create a mathematical formula to calculate the arangements.
He died thinking himself a failure.
Lucius Malfoy did not consider himself a failure. Malfoys were not allowed to think such things. They were, however, allowed to think of devious ways to excuse themselves from distasteful tasks, a glorious tradition begun by Jacques Luc-Pierre Malfoy. Jacques faked the extremely contagious Flobbercough, so called because the lungs became clogged by a thick, gluey brown substance reminiscent of Flobberworm secretion, in order to dodge the call to duty for the Crusades in which 5,000 warrior-wizards were killed.
As it was, Lucius clung to Tobiel Lestrange's sleeve and groaned piteously, "Tobiel, old friend, please! I beg you!"
Tobiel rolled his golden eyes and attempted unsuccessfully to shake Lucius from his robes. "I said no, Luce. If you want to pretend to have the Volgandian Stomach Flu, do the Viperilious hex to your stomach on your own."
Lucius grabbed the other boy by his curly, light-brown hair and stared directly into his eyes, silver boring into gold. He hissed through gritted teeth, "It doesn't work that way! You have to do it, Tobe!"
Calmly, Tobiel held Lucius's wrists and replied, "This intimidation technique worked maybe the first two or three times you did it. But I'm too used to you to be scared, Lucius." They stood in an alcove which once held the statue of Baron Von Rothbart, who had terrorized the kingdoms of what later became Germany and spawned the tale of the Swan Princess with his magical tyranny. The statue had fallen victim to a box of frozen Dungbombs being set off in the corridor last December.
Lucius sighed and released his best friend. They picked up their schoolbags and moved on in micro-depression to Mc Gonagall's classroom.
A black blur emerged from one of the staircases leading from the dungeons (or down to, depending on your starting point) and slammed right into them.
When the Filibuster-like stars faded from Lucius's vision, the black blur had resolved itself into Severus Snape, a Slythrin in the year below Tobiel and Lucius. "Oh!" Severus cried once he saw who had fallen victim to his mad rush. He dropped to his knees and began gathering the scattered school supplies, talking rapidly with his head down and eyes hidden. "Malfoy, Lestrange, I'm sorry; here, let me help you get your things!"
"It's okay, Snape." Tobiel responded, rubbing his leg where it had hit the flagstones. It was custom for Slythrin males to refer to each other by surnames in public. To do otherwise was only allowed between close friends or in a flunkie-to-mastermind kind of situation.
The three managed to sort out all the things among themselves. As they did so, Severus explained, "I stayed after to talk to Professor Jigger about tutoring some other students, and I thought I was going to be late."
"If we hurry, none of will be." Lucius said, looking up from shoving his books into his bag. Severus smiled at him and nodded, then began running toward the Charms classroom.
"Thanks, see you later!" He called back over his shoulder.
Tobiel grabbed Lucius's arm and said, "Come on, or the harpy will have our heads hanging in Filch's office!"
****
"...and therefore, human transfiguration is very possible. It is self-transfiguration, the earning of the title 'Animagus,' which is difficult. It is explained in 'Self is Not Body: The Essential Animagical Handbook' by Alma de Corazon that..."
Lucius scrawled 'human trans easy, animagus difc. Find Self not Body (underlined) in libr' on his notes and went back to daydreaming. The way Severus's eyes lit up, like black fire, his face so bright and beautiful with that smile...
He wondered what it would be like to kiss him. What would Severus do if Lucius kissed him? Would--
"Mr. Malfoy, could you tell me the second step in self-transfiguration?" Professor McGonagall, the harpy, asked in her nastiest of voices, the kind she used when she was fairly certain that the student she asked had no clue what the answer was.
"Hmm, let's see," Lucius muttered, shuffling through his notes. Professor McGonagall covered her eyes with one hand and rubbed her temples as though she had a headache.
"Mr. Malfoy, I just told the class the first three steps two minutes ago."
"Yes, but I referred back to the lecture on human transfiguration for comparison and I lost my place on the notes..." Lucius explained, glancing furtively at the sheet of parchment in his lap, passed there by Evan Rosier when the harpy hadn't been looking. "Oh, here...'Second step: progressive visualization of new form.' That's right, isn't it, Professor?"
A sour look passed fleetingly over McGonagall's features as she conceded, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, that is correct. Five points to Slythrin for your answer."
****
"You lucky bastard! It's a good thing you're such a convincing actor!" Tobiel snapped, punching Lucius lightly on the shoulder. They were safe in the Slythrin common room after supper and were doing their homework.
"Lucky that Ross takes such good notes." Lucius corrected, rubbing his shoulder.
Anton Crabbe laughed. He shoved his reading glasses up to the bridge of his strong, Italian nose and mimicked, "I tried to compare two things on my notes and lost my place, Professor."
Lucius shook a fist at darker blond and threatened, "Don't make me angry, Crabbe."
"You wanna take this outside, Malfoy?"
"Yeah, why not?" Lucius sneered, acting the tough.
"Yes, please do. *Some of us* are attempting to pass our classes with decent work, if you don't mind too terribly much," broke in an ice-cold voice from near the fire. The four boys at the table with Malfoy turned to see Severus Snape sitting on the brick, rolls of parchment and potion ingredients spread all around him. The younger Slythrin's pale face was lit by the yellow flames, making his annoyed expression slightly sinister.
"Right. Shut up, you two, and help me on this Defense load." Tobiel said after a moment of silent surprise had held the fourth-year boys. It passed, and the common room fell back into the rise and fall of the quiet murmurs of study hour.
****
****
February 1978
Severus was one of a whole group of boys in the year below Lestrange, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Rosier who had almost immediately become their friends. His best friend was a blonde and blue-eyed three-quarters French kid named Gabriel Malcolm, a cheerful and fun-loving character who was his total opposite. Gabriel was the only one who really knew Severus well.
It had been nearly three months since their collision in the hallway, and Lucius still couldn't stop thinking about him. How much did he know about the quiet, intelligent boy with the textbook knowledge of curses and the prodigious talent for potions? Hardly anything except what Severus let him know.
It was Valentine's Day tomorrow. And it was almost unforgivibly sappy and sweet, but Lucius had an idea.
****
Severus sat down at the Slythrin table in the Great Hall and nodded in response to the greetings he recieved. He picked up his napkin to spread it out on his lap and a thornless black rose fell out.
Instantly, Gabriel announced in a sing-song voice to the entire House, "Severus has an ad-mir-er!"
"Shut up, you twit." Severus inspected the flower in front of him on the tablecloth with distaste. "It'll probably blow up if I touch it."
Simon Goyle prodded the offending floral object with his fork. "I believe it's non-explosive, Snape. It's got a black ribbon on it, too."
"More morbid than romantic, if you ask me." Jerome Parkinson grumbled, pouring himself a goblet of pumpkin juice. He glanced over at Severus and declared, "*I* wouldn't touch it."
Meanwhile, someone at another table had caught Gabriel's little announcement. Right after Jerome finished saying this, James Potter said loudly,
"An admirer? Snape? Funny, I didn't know that a blind moron was at Hogwarts."
Snape's face went just the barest shade of pink, and his eyes glittered like slits of volcanic glass. He snatched up the rose and tugged the ribbon off. In looping silver script, the ribbon read: 'You're a very good friend I don't know at all. I'd like to get to know you better.'
Severus raised a skeptic eyebrow and passed it to Gabriel. "What do you make of this, Gabe?"
"Strange. But harmless." He wound the black fabric around his finger and suggested, "Maybe the Marauders pulled it, for a laugh or something."
Severus shrugged and lifted a sticky bun from its fellows on a tray. "I'd expect an explosion from those children. Not enough subtlety or class in all four of them together for that." He took a bite, then suddenly held the pastry up to his face, and muttered, "What in world...?"
The uncovered half circle of a silver ring glinted from it.
Gabriel shook his head and whispered in Severus's ear, "It's someone at the table. They had to bewitch that bun while it was in your hand."
Severus nodded. "This is too strange."
"Very strange, my friend."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
A/N: This is what we call setting the stage. I decided to break off here, because the mood is definitely not right. Don't worry, just hit the little [] button.
Review here, or in Ch. 2! But do review! v^_^