Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Inside me. ❯ A fearless third-year. ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer - nope, none of the characters except Koniggen (my own OC, so please do not steal him without permission) within this chapter are owned by myself, just the so-called plot.

Author's note - younger readers may find my habit of referring to most of the cast as `boy', considering how much they all mature and develop between now and canon I feel it to be justified. Also, I do perceive them to be still children, for all their dabbling in things they perhaps oughtn't.

 

 

`No, no, no, Avery! It's a simple shifting of the thumb just so, not that deranged twitching you call wandwork!' The voice was an exasperated soprano, cutting off the frustrated baritone mid-grumble. Severus corrected his friend's faulty casting under the amused eye of Lucius Malfoy, now entering his final year at Hogwarts. It was a familiar, yet still comedic sight to behold. As always Severus was thinner and somewhat hoarse after the long summer, dwarfed by Avery, who may only have been a shade taller but he was well built. No matter though, the larger youth flinched back fearfully from his erstwhile teacher's sarcastic wit.

 

Evan's hand closed on Severus' shoulder heavily. `You'll never teach that dunderhead your toe-shrinking hex, Severus. However….' He trailed off and made significant eye contact with the younger boy, an expectant expression on his face. Severus nodded, ugly face twitching into an absentminded sneer as he drew his shabby school robes about himself in a precursor to the ominous robe swishing he was to indulge in as an adult.

 

They strolled up to Severus' dorm and Evan sprawled on the other boy's immaculately made bed, hands behind his head, fingers laced in the glossy curly hair that was his most distinguishing feature. Not a few more impressionable boys and girls had been known to sigh after him. He watched his sometime friend fling open the trunk lid and efficiently unpack vial after vial of potion, restoring them to their original size with an unspoken incantation. After the expense of making them he barely managed a couple of knuts' profit on each potion, maybe a sickle or two for the more advanced or borderline illegal ones, but having spent most of his summer up in the attic he'd turned into a dingy factory floor brewing batch after batch the small amounts of money added up. Most of the potions were simple wit sharpeners, pepper ups, mild healing potions to avoid having to raise Madam Pomphrey's suspicions and of course the illicit recreational ones. Five drops of intoxication solution in a large glass of water produced a palatable alcoholic beverage and he had an advantage over Knockturn Alley in that he was cheap, easy to get to for all pupils and by necessity a very accurate brewer. After one six-year had overdosed on cheering potion Severus had learned to drum the safety guidelines of consumption into his customers every time they ordered a potion. His left wrist still ached in the cold from the last lesson.

 

On returning to the common room Severus looked up and Lucius whispered something in his ear. The thirteen years old vicious wretch nodded obediently and took up a reading book.

 

Even having grown so hard and cynical, even feral sometimes the trust Severus placed in Lucius took the older boy's breath away. Few would so meekly submit to side-along apparition to an unknown destination by a boy like Lucius, but the most vicious-tempered, intelligent and cynical Slytherin in third year went without hesitation. The boy was progressing quite nicely, schooling his features to the cynical politeness which he usually adopted these days when called for a vaguely polite manner.

 

The Dark Lord's eyes met the skinny boy's intense stare and locked gaze with him. Lucius shivered delightedly, excited by the sheer rawness that was almost tangible in the air. He was impressed at how well Severus had schooled himself; given the boy's temperament and proud when both of them were accepted by the Lord.

 

At the wave of a wand armchair appeared and the select half-dozen were furnished with half-full tumblers of drink. Tom knew better than to be a stingy host. He drew breath, paused, looking around at the young men and women hanging off his every word and began to weave his spell. He was persuasive, funny, urbane, witty, charming and yet barbed like opiate addiction. The youths, none past their nineteenth birthday leaned forward eagerly to drink in his words.

 

So many addictions in one young mind - hatred of that loathsome quad of Gryffindors, a passion for Dark Magic, academic ambition burning painfully within, a dependence on Circe knows what concoctions he practically lived on and the handsome man known later only by euphemism. The mind wavered, ready to break or fall and his attachment to Lucius, combined with the knowledge that his rock, his mentor would soon be gone could hardly help.

 

`Sevvie! Put the knife down!'

 

Koniggen and Crabbe rolled their eyes in the darkness at the hint of fear in Lucius' voice. The fact the Lucius only had a partial hold over his boy had been the cause of much discussion among his yearmates. `No!' Sounds of pain, then hurriedly mumbled cleaning charms were cast on the other side of the heavy velvet curtains around Lucius' bed. The slight form barrelled out, bleeding, sobbing and occasionally cursing viciously, his wand still gripped tightly in the less injured hand. Koniggen knew better than to intercede, even when injured and banned from using his real repertoire of curses Severus' abilities gave pause for thought.

 

Lucius sighed, rolled over in bed and closed his eyes to go back to sleep. Severus was a true Slytherin and even now their relationship was losing the edge of intimacy and reverting to the usual Slytherin alliance with terms and conditions. He mentally shrugged; the main work had been done. He might not be able to manipulate Severus overly much these days, but he'd already eliminated certain fields of possibility from Severus' consideration.

 

`Still working Severus?' A gently teasing voice roused him from his reverie.

 

`Of course, Slughorn rarely allows those not in his precious club the opportunity for such extra challenges.'

 

Since his tone wasn't quite the normal `sod off' manner Lily sat a few chairs away and watched the lad work, not laughing at the chipped barrette clips keeping his hair out of the way and covering her slight surprise at seeing him in shirtsleeves. Intellectually Lily had known that there was a teenaged boy somewhere in those heavy robes, but Severus was inextricably linked with them in her mind. Although with a pipe-cleaner physique like that she wasn't surprised at his unwillingness to expose himself.

 

Watching him brew a potion even she could not identify, she smiled. When not having to fight for survival against the fearsome foursome or lurk on the edges of the Slytherin pack he was… not nice as such, but less ghastly than one might expect. `What are you brewing?'

 

`My variant on the Nolo Disquietus* potion. I have made a few substitutions.' The cool voice replied precisely.

 

`A few? I know that recipe and couldn't even recognise your version! Is there a single ingredient in there that you haven't modified or substituted in some way?' She asked with shocked amusement.

 

`The water base.' Came the deadpan riposte, which cracked her up.

 

`Ah Severus, Lily, I see you've met your lab partners for the rest of your year's extra credit assignments!' Slughorn bounced in merrily, blissfully oblivious to the flabbergasted stares he garnered from his pupils.

 

 

* Nolo Disquietus - lit. I do not want to be uneasy.