Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Inside me. ❯ Boy beguiled. ( Chapter 11 )

Disclaimer - Just in case the introductions to the previous ten chapters had not been hint enough, I neither own the cast and situations of Harry Potter, not am I profiting from it.

 

Warning - very mild homoeroticism occurs in this chapter. It is very mild and is not consummated; however if the thought of males flirting is intolerable then consider yourself warned.

 

Evan Rosier had managed to pass his OWL examinations and strutted around the platform at Kings Cross, sneering at the other houses in a superior manner and comparing exam results with his friends. He looked up from laughing at Abraham Parkinson's comic description of his difficulty in the Herbology practical exam only to have his eye caught by a new entrant to the wizarding platform. Evan frowned, not recognising the lean figure. When it turned, he gasped in surprise. `Little Severus isn't so little any more.' He could not help but murmur to himself as the fourth year pupil sauntered over in a moderately elegant fashion. His arrogant nonchalance held a hint of self-consciousness, but Rosier could not help but be impressed at the overall effect.

 

Empty black eyes met his own and the apparition spoke, a faint spark of the derisory wit that was Slytherin house's hallmark brightening his expression. `I see you have managed to con the old fools into allowing you to try your hand at NEWT level studies then, Rosier.' An unfamiliar dark baritone intoned.

 

`And since we are stating the obvious, it appears that you have managed to avoid being arrested or murdered over the summer, Snape.' Evan's tone was equally dry, but he kept a moderately civil tongue in his head, despite Snape being younger. He had heard a few rumours over the summer, especially when he'd been to tea at the Malfoy Mansion. Although the rumours only mentioned an avid reading of certain strictly theoretical texts one had to read between the lines. It was best not to aggravate such a person, especially when he could not necessarily be trusted to remember that they were supposedly on the same side. Evan grimaced internally. Given the result of some of the pupil-led `disciplinary hearings' he did not entirely blame the little oik.

 

Snape inclined his head at that, a smile twisting his narrow lips that gave the chilling impression that Snape was not just agreeing with his spoken words.

 

`That's creepy, Snape.'

 

A truly evil grin transformed the ugly visage into a mask of ill-intentioned mirth. `I know.' Then his face returned in an eyeblink to the normal mask of mild boredom and general dissatisfaction. `It has been a long, but productive summer.'

 

`You intend to win Sprout's essay-writing award again this year?' Evan jested, keeping his tone light and his words innocuous. He placed a casual hand on Snape's forearm ostentatiously, guiding him to a Slytherin-occupied compartment of the filling train. Goyle, Nott and Rabastan Lestrange were already comfortably ensconced therein. They all looked up from their game of cards to say hello, then Goyle and Nott's attention was diverted as one of Goyle's cards began glowing purple and they engaged in a lively debate as to the possible cause. Wands were drawn and Rosier sighed, rolling his eyes and reminding the pair not to lose house points before they even arrived at school.

 

`My brother wanted to talk to you about some obscure German hexes he read about over the summer. He seemed quite interested.' Rabastan remarked to Severus with cautious courtesy. Snape nodded, taking the spare seat by him. Rabastan was relieved by this reaction. But decided against trying to draw the conversation out further. Instead the game of cards resumed, occasionally punctuated by the sharing of some particularly vicious rumour one of them had heard over the holiday.

 

Albus Dumbledore meanwhile was visiting an old friend in St Mungos. The ageing auror Alastor Moody was in the hospital, having the curse-ravaged remnants of his eye removed and replaced with a magical substitute thanks to a skirmish with the damnable Deatheaters. While Hogwarts may have been a comparatively peaceable haven from the outside world the rest of the UK wizarding population had been at war with Voldemort since 1971, the raids having begun the year previously and the Ministry finally taking note and appointing a task force in 1972.

 

`That low-down scum! You know Albus, the one who did this to me couldn't have been out of school yet!' He gestured to the empty eye socket, his scarred visage contorted with fury and frustration. `He couldn't have been a day over sixteen; even hiding behind those stupid masks and cloaks I can tell. I don't s'pose you've got any budding murderers at Hogwarts have you? He would have been about five foot ten, thin build, black messy hair and a precise forceful casting manner.' He paused for a moment, reflecting. `It's a pity that one went to the bad, even not yet grown he's got talent and he's bloody wasting it, selling his soul to scum and turning himself into a monster. He was flinging dark curses around like cheering charms and he hardly seemed winded.' Alastor shook his head. `I'm not letting him off, the power behind those spells shows he's a wrong `un, but he had help to become the utter scum he is now.'

 

`I can't say your description rings any bells, Alastor. Durmstrang is better known for that kind of thing than Hogwarts. We try to stamp down on that kind of behaviour, however I shall stay vigilant and redouble my efforts.'

 

After apparating back to Hogsmeade Dumbledore could not help but mull over Moody's words and as the sorting ceremony stretched out his eye could not help but be drawn to the Slytherin table.

 

Horace Slughorn beamed at his charge and signed the boy's permission slip in loco parentis. Severus being invited to the Malfoy residence and on a regular basis! He'd known the boy was talented with his studies, but gaining influence with such a powerful family, perhaps the boy might achieve something after all. Lucius was the epitome of the standard Slytherin boy made good, with his Ministry post and noble lineage and he was making quite a reputation for himself as an intelligent, able man. Snape's sponsorship and his mentioning spending part of the summer doing advanced brewing in Perseus Malfoy's laboratory were heartening. Perhaps the boy would make something of himself after all, instead of falling prey to the self-fulfilling prophecy the rest of the school alienated his Slytherin children into seeing as their only path. Horace only hoped he could guide more of his charges into paths where they could toil well for the good of the wizarding world, and him.

 

`Well met, sir knight!' Lucius greeted his charge jovially as Severus stepped out of the fireplace.

 

`Well met indeed, esteemed comrade.' The younger of the pair replied, an oddly bitter tinge to his vocal tone. OWL pressures had begun already and without Malfoy's subtle (and occasionally not so subtle) influence to protect him the Marauders had increased their use of him for entertainment. These circumstances combined with the high expectations of the Dark Lord and Lucius (who had sponsored him and thus whose reputation was effected by his own performance) led to greater aggression on Severus' part. He was trapped, harried on all sides, but refused to let them destroy him. He was doing that quite adequately for himself, thank-you.

 

`Father has decided that you deserve a treat tomorrow. That pain potion you created last week was quite inspired.' Lucius noticed Severus' suspicion. `No I am not taking you to the ice-cream parlour. I thought a book shopping trip might be more to your taste.' The youth's eyes lit up at that and Lucius dug the hook a little deeper. `Fifty galleons with which to buy any books Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley may offer.'

 

Severus' grip tightened on the tumbler in his hand and he looked up at Lucius with a glassy stare. His cheeks were flushed and his lips parted as he gasped, intoxicated by the generosity of the gift the Malfoys were bestowing upon him. Privately Lucius congratulated himself upon having judged the other so well. He sent the boy to bed, remaining in his chair to gloat, a satisfied smile spread across his handsome features.

 

The next day Severus was awake early and Lucius concealed a smile as the younger male sat at the breakfast table cast in his cast-off clothes. He was impatiently sipping tea and shredding several slices of toast. He doubted the boy had managed to eat more than a couple of mouthfuls in his excitement, although the sheen to his eyes implied that the food was supplemented by a potion. Lucius applied himself to his kippers, struck by the thought that Severus was nearly appealing in this state and was reminded abruptly of those early days in their friendship when he'd guided the youth through his magic.

 

Out shopping Severus avoided the larger shops, seeking out the small second-hand shops and rooting out all the best illicit text suppliers like a bloodhound. He haggled like a pro, his carefully assumed vowels dropping into the flat tones of the lower classes, insulting them in their own vernacular when they tried to pull a fast one on him. Lucius had the vague impression that several of them had rather enjoyed the encounters and had actually allowed themselves to be haggled down to lower prices than they really intended, impressed by their customer's tenacity. The final book dropped into the enchanted satchel Severus had brought with him and he spun on his heel to confront Lucius, his narrow chest heaving and those sinister eyes drawn into a predatory expression of satisfaction.

 

He'd played both the shopkeepers and Lucius like a fiddle. He'd managed to buy a score of books, some quite antiquated, at a fraction of the usual asking price and had pretty much convinced Lucius he was utterly bought and beguiled for the time being. He stepped closer and even allowed Lucius to lay a possessive hand upon his chest when a busty witch looked at them in the street. Instead of drawing away from the contact, he leaned into Lucius' warm hand, allowing the blond to feel the hammering of his heart under his bony ribcage. Combined with a direct stare it was barely more than was really required to allow Lucius to apparate them both to the manor, but in the subtle body language of their convoluted relationship it was obvious.

 

They arrived in the front hallway and Severus paused slightly too long before moving away. Internally Lucius crowed as he felt the pliant body by him pressing ever so slightly closer than strictly necessary. It was blatant and as Severus moved Lucius' hand clamped around his wrist, reeling the dark youth back in. His face hovered over Severus' and their bodies pressed together. Severus could feel Lucius' breath on his lips; it was thrilling.

 

`I see you have had a productive day, my boys.' Perseus' smooth voice broke the tableau and reinstated urbane formality.

 

Severus made his excuses, leaving to dress for dinner. As he walked away he distinctly heard Perseus reminding Lucius not to be so tacky or blunt in his machinations. The display had been vulgar, not at all of the stylish calibre one was to expect of a Malfoy, especially not the heir. Snape covered his mouth at that, squashing in the laugh that threatened to escape. Murder, rape and any other means by which objectives might be attained were acceptable, but one had to have standards. Heaven forefend one be vulgar in one's pursuit of power and riches.