The Fate of Innocence

White flecks were falling thick and fast to the ground, purporting that somewhere up in the clouds a heated pillow fight was happening. The ground was already covered under a thin layer of white as they left the castle, making their walk into Hogsmeade everything else but enjoyable.

Draco Malfoy wrapped a second scarf over his lower face, shivering so badly that he snuggled between Crabbe and Goyle, absorbing their warmth. His thickly gloved hands were shaking, his whole body quaking and his feet started to feel numb as the wetness of the snow made it through his winter boots.

"Maybe…" Goyle cleared his throat and poked Draco, then poked a bit harder because Draco did not feel much through all the layers of clothes.

"What?!" he snapped with clattering teeth.

"Maybe we have a better time if we go back now," Goyle suggested, clearing his throat again and looking away as Draco narrowed his eyes. "I mean, it's… warm in the common room."

"It's warm in the Three Broomsticks, too," Draco replied, pointing with his chin towards the appearing village. "And it's closer. We're probably dead before we reach the castle again. Stupid snow…"

"Yeah, stupid stuff," Crabbe agreed, receiving a puzzled look from Draco, who shook his head and focused on the path again, the snow now several inches high.

"Okay, good," Draco said and grabbed both Crabbe and Goyle's upper arms, because those stupid morons just went straight ahead without noticing that Draco had stopped as they reached Hogsmeade. "Crabbe, you go to Honeydukes and…" Biting his lower lip Draco sized Crabbe up, noticing that he was getting fatter and fatter with each day. "Uhm, Goyle you go to Honeydukes…" He fumbled his gold out of his pockets, a bold venture with his gloved hands. "I want Chocoballs. The ones with vanilla mousse, not strawberry, understand?"

Goyle nodded and with a slap of Draco's hand on his back he turned around and hurried away.

Draco turned to Crabbe, who looked slightly disappointed. "You go to Weasley's, I can't give them the satisfaction that I like their stuff," he said, giving Crabbe some of his money, before he searched for more, blushing deeply. "Well… uhm, and… you know… I want one of those Pygmy Puffs," he muttered, the hot blush tainting his pale face scarlet red. "A pink one. Purple looks so gay…"

Crabbe opened his mouth but closed it soundlessly as Draco scowled at him. He shrugged and stormed away, just yearning for the warmth of a shop.

Draco cleared his throat, rubbing his hands. Now, without Crabbe and Goyle, he could enter the Three Broomsticks and enjoy his Butterbeer in peace. The moment he went through the door he was enveloped by warmth, suddenly feeling utterly uncomfortable in his thick clothing. Slumping on a chair at the bar he unwrapped his scarves, pulled off his gloves and opened his cloak, which he left on because every time the door opened cold air made him shiver.

"Draco dear, what can I get you?" Madam Rosmerta seemed bored; because of the weather fewer students came to Hogsmeade and that meant no gold for the attractive barmaid, who would get a cold if she kept running around in these short skirts and deep plunging blouses, not that Draco cared much. He was sitting right in front of her nose for a reason.

"Firewhiskey? With two glasses for me and you?" Draco smirked, but Madam Rosmerta just shook her head.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I'm on duty," she replied kindly, flashing Draco such a beautiful smile that his broken heart was fixed in a second. "And I don't think you're old enough for Firewhiskey anyway."

Draco pursed his lips slightly and if his father would have been here then he would have get everything he had ever wished for, but Madam Rosmerta shook her head again. "Oh, okay. I want some hot chocolate then. With whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles," he ordered and he was so smitten with the barmaid's charm that he nearly missed overhearing the chuckle from beside him. "What is so funny?" he snapped, turning around and glaring at the man, who had taken the seat next to him without even asking. Now Crabbe would have to stand when he was finally back.

"Nothing…" The man shook his head, short black hair shining in the dimmed lights of the Three Broomsticks. "It's just… I mean, from Firewhiskey to hot chocolate? It's almost cute," he said in a husky voice, while his grey eyes were sizing Draco up until the Slytherin shifted on his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Do we know each other?"

Draco stared back, shaking his head. "I don't think so," he said, although the man seemed somehow familiar to him, too. The casual arrogance in his face somehow reminded him of his mother and that haughty look in the grey eyes were exactly the same Aunt Andromeda –

Draco sneered. Fate had placed Sirius Black only a few inches away from him, Potter's godfather, brawny Gryffindor, mistakenly imprisoned for years and now busy with playing happy family without even knowing his own first cousin. It would probably be best for him to leave now, before Black realised he was sitting next to one of the bad side of his odious family.

"You look familiar…" Black mumbled and kept his eyes on Draco, who focused on his hot chocolate Madam Rosmerta had just brought him. "Rosie, I'd like another Butterbeer, please."

Draco snorted, turning to Black again as Madam Rosmerta left. "Rosie?" he asked and Black grinned at him.

"Have a crush on our pretty barmaid?" Black asked, waggling his eyebrows. Draco blushed and Black let out a barking laugh, which deepened the red shade on Draco's cheeks. "Ah, I can totally understand you, kid. When I was your age I was always sitting on your seat and drooling on the bar." Black leaned forwards, bringing his lips close to Draco's ear. "Between you and me… she's worth the try." Black's breath puffed hot against Draco's cheek and he suddenly wished that he could run out into the cold, because his whole body suddenly felt like he had just been set on fire.

It took a moment before the words registered in Draco's brain and his eyes widened in shock. Shoving Black away, he whirled around, staring at him in disbelief. "Never," he said, shaking his head after he had gave the other man a once over. "You're much too old for her, anyway." He inconspicuously clenched his fists, feeling his short nails digging into his flesh.

Black chuckled, sipping at his Butterbeer. "She's older than I am, but don't tell her that. Women and age is a tender subject," he said precociously. "So, you're early, huh?"

Draco frowned, still feeling the urge to punch Black. The way he spoke about Madam Rosmerta made him sick. She was no exhibition piece, but a precious accessory and the only woman in the world who was worth taking his virginity.

"I didn't know we had an engagement," Draco replied dryly.

Black gagged on his Butterbeer, looking at Draco out of the corner of his eye. "I mean, you're a student at Hogwarts, I guess, and I'd like to know if you're just early or if nobody left because of the weather. It's getting worse…"

Draco looked over his shoulder; snowflakes were dancing wildly in front of the windows, which were cluttered with frost patterns. Black cleared his throat to get Draco's attention, but Draco just turned back to his hot chocolate.

"You know, I'm waiting for my godson, but he's not coming," Black said as if Draco showed any interest. "It was supposed to be a surprise, but I'm getting bored. Look how empty it is in here."

Draco kept his eyes on his hot chocolate, drinking sip by sip. There was no way that Madam Rosmerta gave herself to such a stupid, filthy, arrogant, assuming, cheeky Gryffindor, with such soft fingertips. Draco's eyes widened as Black brushed his fingers over his lips. He felt his eyes fluttering closed and the urge to feel these fingers lingering longer on the chapped skin of his lips, but Black pulled away as soon as Draco blushed for thinking such licentious stuff.

"You had some whipped cream there," Black explained, licking his fingers clean. The sensuality of his mouth nearly made Draco whimper. Black's tongue snaked out, twirling around his index finger before he slowly sucked the finger in. "Oh, that's sickeningly sweet! And I thought you'd got some sort of taste, kid…" And with those words he killed every desire in Draco that this had been his finger in Black's mouth.

Draco rolled his eyes, another blush creeping up his neck. What was wrong with him? He had wanted to get rid of Crabbe and Goyle to finally hit on Madam Rosmerta and not to talk with Sirius Black. But as it seemed Madam Rosmerta had better things to do and Draco really wanted to have some Firewhiskey now.

"Don't tell me that you're lovesick," Black asked amused. "Well, otherwise, tell me. I'm bored."

"And I don't know you," Draco snapped. "I won't tell a stranger about my love life."

"I'm Sirius," Black said, holding out his hand. "You know that, of course."

Arrogant bastard. "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He half-smirked half-sneered as Sirius looked like he was about to vomit.

"The slimy git that always annoys Harry?" Sirius huffed.

Draco shrugged. "Are you leaving me alone, now?" he asked hopefully.

There were noises of glass tinkling and suddenly Draco's hot chocolate was exchanged with the golden liquid he had desperately yearned for. With big eyes he looked at Sirius, who winked at him and nodded towards a table in the corner of the pub.

"What her eye does not see, her heart does not grieve over," Sirius said dramatically and stood up, motioning Draco to follow him. It was a strange feeling to watch how Sirius moved deeper into the shadows and it was incredibly exciting to follow him.

"That cuts both ways, right?" Draco hissed as he slumped on the chair next to Sirius, clinging to the glass as the other man looked at him with a confused expression on his face. "I mean, that she doesn't see me."

Sirius raised one eyebrow. "Was there alcohol in your hot chocolate or are you always that melodramatic?"

"I'm not melodramatic," Draco snorted. "I just wanted a beautiful, older woman."

Chuckling Sirius drummed his fingers on the table, while he mustered Draco. "I'm quite sure you're very popular, despite the fact that you're a snotty prat." Draco scowled at him and Sirius raised his hands in defense. "Just what I know from Harry, sorry, kid."

"Hah! Kid!" Draco sighed. "I'm just a bloody child." He downed his drink in one gulp and started coughing as the burning liquid flooded down his throat. Sirius tried to suppress his laughter as he patted Draco's back.

"You're funny, kid," he said, wrapping his arm around Draco's shoulder before he continued to knock his fingers on the table. "And almost pretty. I'm sure you'll find someone who likes you."

"It's not like nobody would," Draco snapped. "And I'm not pretty. I prefer handsome…"

Sirius shrugged. "I prefer pretty." Grinning he refilled Draco's glass. "Rosmerta is into pretty, little boys, you know? Almost ended up in Azkaban because of that."

Draco's eyes widened. "No, never," he said, shaking his head. "She's a lady. You don't know anything about women like her, Black."

"Well, unlike you, I succeeded," Sirius said proudly. "My virginity was lost that day I tried to snitch some Firewhiskey from the back of the bar. Innocent, fifteen year-old me…"

"I'm seventeen," Draco pouted. "Almost eighteen. I'm too old for her…"

Sirius dragged him a bit closer, turning his head and leaning forwards, eyes focused on Draco, who stared straight at the bar. "You're of age?" he whispered, so close that Draco got irritated by the heated breath.

He turned his head, his nose clashing against Sirius' jaw. "Yes," Draco said, leaning backwards, but Sirius did not allow him to move away. "Uhm… you are too."

Sirius burst into barking laughter. "Yeah, yeah, I suppose so," he said, breathless, tears glittering in the corner of his eyes. "But it's a good thing, you know?" Sirius' fingers closed around Draco's jaw in an almost gentle gesture so that Draco did not back off immediately. Actually, it did not feel that bad to have these hands on his face and body. "Because I don't want to end up in Azkaban again."

Draco nodded vacantly, eyes focused on a strand of shiny black hair that fell casually into Sirius' face. Slowly, he realised what the older man had said, but by that time Sirius had already bent closer, his lips almost touching Draco's.

"I'm a virgin," Draco breathed.

Sirius promptly let go of him and moved to the edge of his chair, staring at Draco out of big eyes. "Oh…" He blinked, turning around and thirstily emptying his glass in one gulp. "Oh…" Sirius shook his head and looked back to Draco, who scowled at him. "Oh…"

Draco slammed his fist onto Sirius' back, before he folded his arms and turned away, pouting.

"Bloody flubberworm, did you save yourself for Rosie, or what?" Sirius said, sounding amused again and Draco could imagine he was smirking in that arrogant way he already started to hate and admire. "The girls – or boys – in Hogwarts can't be that bad."

Rolling his eyes, Draco turned to Sirius again. "You can't have sex in Hogwarts, you stupid old man," he hissed but Sirius only raised his eyebrows.

"Well, I had sex in Hogwarts," he stated, but looked like he wanted a whole crowd congratulating him for being a bloody manwhore.

"That was fifty years ago," Draco sneered. "Back then it was probably normal to seduce the archenemy of one's godson, too."

Sirius sighed heavily. "I was bored." He tried to get up but Draco grabbed his wrist and pulled him back onto the chair.

"What now? You're just leaving?" Draco dug his fingers so deep into Sirius' flesh that he felt muscles and bones even through the thick layer of clothing. "You just tried to seduce me!"

"And now you've fallen in love, virgin?" Sirius grinned but he did not try to get up again. "You know, it's quite… unexpected that a pre– handsome boy like you is still… very innocent. I should've guessed it; the hot chocolate, the whipped cream… and I thought you tried to hit on me!"

Draco blinked and shook his head. "I'm not gay." He blushed as Sirius laughed. "I'm not. I would never try to seduce a man who could be my father. Just women."

"Yeah, I don't care that much. There were times in Azkaban I screamed as loud as I can that I don't like boys but…" Sirius paused and shook his head, filling their glasses again. He drank while Draco stared at him, licking his suddenly dry lips and now he really was tempted by that glass full of Firewhiskey.

"Drinking really isn't going to help," Draco said, reaching for Sirius' glass, but the other man retrieved it.

"You feel better afterwards, just try it," Sirius said and Draco doubted that the Ministry would ever let him adopt Potter if he kept being so immature. "Come on, drink, Draco. Afterwards, you won't be shy with Rosie anymore."

Draco cleared his throat. "I am not shy," he said calmly. "But I think that Potter will kill me if I don't prevent his godfather from drowning his sorrows." He tried to get Sirius' glass once more, nearly crawling onto Sirius' back. The broad shoulders would be very easy to cling to, but Draco just wanted to get that glass.

"I'm not drowning my sorrows," Sirius chuckled, grabbing Draco's wrist and turning around again. He slammed the glass onto the table, holding Draco's arm in place so that it almost looked like they were hugging – and Draco did not want to hug Sirius Black. Not at all. "I just enjoy the company of Harry's worst enemy. Honestly, I can't believe that he has so much trouble with a cute, innocent thing like you."

"Hey!" Draco slammed his free hand against Sirius' chest, before he tried to get his other arm free. "I just tried to be nice for a change…"

"Because you like older men?" Sirius asked challenging.

Draco gulped. "Women," he corrected but stopped to dislodge Sirius. "Well, maybe if you let your hair grow again…"

"No…" Sirius shook his head, palm resting on the small of Draco's back. "I was forced to have such long hair for so long; I don't want that anymore." He dragged Draco closer, his fingers now drumming on Draco's back instead on the table. Their noses almost touched, but Draco was not sure if he wanted Sirius Black's lips so close to his own. "I wonder if you still taste like hot chocolate…"

Draco raised his eyebrows, splaying his fingers over Sirius' chest, before he finally melted against the other body, bringing his lips even closer. "Find out…" It was his first time kissing a man and it barely lasted a moment, before Sirius pulled away, suppressing laughter. "What?" Draco felt slightly hurt by this reaction, although he kept his expression blank – somewhere inside him he still had his dignity.

"You kiss in that intense, shuddering way – typically pure, innocent virgin," Sirius mumbled, running his thumb over Draco's bottom lip.

"I've barely touched your lips," he said, trying not to drool on Sirius' fingers which did not seem to get enough of his mouth. He was not sure if maybe Sirius wanted him to drool on his fingers…

"And still it was very intense," Sirius said, licking his lips. "I like that." He leaned closer, his stubble scratching over Draco's soft cheek. It felt strange, but it also was a really interesting feeling and Draco raised his hand, tracing Sirius' jaw gently. "Do you know what they do to boys like you in prison?" Sirius whispered close to his ear.

"No…" Draco shook his head, before turning to look at Sirius again, the grey eyes holding so many emotions. They were so close again, their noses barely inches apart and Draco wanted to feel those lips again. "But I'd like to find out."

Sirius smirked, looking pleased. "Of course you would," he said, pushing Draco gently away and wrapping his fingers around his wrist. It was all but gentle how Draco was pulled towards the stairs. He threw one last glance over his shoulder, watching Madam Rosmerta searching for her customer who had left two scarves and a pair of gloves on her bar. The silver and green colouring showing his obvious love for his house made Draco think that Sirius must be a huge idiot; otherwise he would have noticed that the boy with the white-blond hair was Draco Malfoy, his godson's Nemesis. Draco frowned. Maybe… maybe Potter was not talking as much about him like Draco did…

"You agreed to this, right?" Sirius asked, whirling around and pulling Draco close, his mouth hovering over Draco's.

"You won't end up in Azkaban again. I'm of age," Draco said, pressing himself to Sirius and trying to reach those lips. "Show me what you do to boys like me." Sirius' mouth was too far away, and suddenly Draco was whirled around and shoved into a room. It was dark and dust tinged in Draco's nose. He stumbled and the rumpling noise made him sneer. "A broom closet?"

Sirius pushed Draco against the wall, pulling his writs up with one hand, the other busy with Draco's trousers. "You agreed," he whispered, resting his chin on Draco's shoulder. Soft lips were touching Draco's throat tenderly, sucking on it as he shoved his hand into Draco's pants.

Draco gasped and froze, slowly turning his head over his shoulder and founding himself in a bruising kiss. Sirius stroked him carefully, and Draco wanted to push back and run away at the same time. He felt Sirius' erection pressing against his back and shut his eyes tightly, not kissing back anymore.

"There's no turning back now," Sirius whispered against Draco's swollen lips. He released Draco's wrists, before he pulled Draco's trousers and underwear down in one smooth motion.

"It's not very… comfortable…" Draco said, feeling utterly vulnerable and he was glad that it was too dark for Sirius to see the deep blush on Draco's face.

"It's not supposed to be," Sirius said, pressing inside Draco with just a fingertip, but it was enough to make him whimper. "You said you wanted me to show you." Draco tensed as the finger slid in completely. "I actually should fuck you rough and barely stretched, that gives you a better impression."

"You didn't take that seriously?" Draco groaned, his breath coming out in gasps. He leaned his face against the wall, fear and anticipation gripping him as he felt heated flesh pressing against his back. His body was trembling as if he stood out in the cold, but the warmth of the other body only seemed to make it worse.

"You didn't think I let you get away with humiliating my godson for years?" Sirius mumbled against his ear, before tracing his tongue around the rim.

Draco's breath caught and he choked on his words: "You didn't… You planned all this? You…" He writhed wildly, trying to get away, but Sirius caught his wrist, hard fingers closing around it and twisting his arm up behind his back. Draco let out a painful moan, not the slightest hint of pleasure hiding in his voice, but Sirius only held him tighter, pressing him with his whole body against the cold stone of the wall.

"You didn't believe I could really want you," Sirius chuckled, shoving a second finger deep into him. "After all you did to Harry? You, Malfoy, stand for everything I loathe and I'll gladly show you how little I care about a filthy Daddy's Boy like you." Although he seemed to detest him, Sirius showed him pleasure in a way that made Draco open his mouth in a wanton moan. He bucked against the fingers, moaning again as thrumming pleasure coalesced in his groin.

"Stop," Draco choked out, squirming unrestrainedly until another crashing wave of pleasure caught him. "Don't stop…"

"I won't stop," Sirius whispered, nudging against Draco and slowly replacing his fingers with something bigger. "I'm going to fuck you so hard."

"Please," Draco whimpered, not sure what he was begging for. The burning pain seemed to be everywhere, splitting him in two. Sirius' grip on his arm was hard and with each thrust he knocked the air out of Draco as he brushed that one spot that caused an explosion centering in his groin and made his vision turn white.

"Do you know what they do to boys like you in prison?" Sirius asked, panting. He finally released Draco's arm, both hands holding his hips in place just in the right moment as Draco's knees weakened. "Nothing," Sirius whispered, and Draco came hard, his climax rolling over him with too much pleasure for him to bear. His clenching muscles pulled Sirius over the edge as well and they both collapsed on the floor.

Draco sniffed and turned around with tears prickling in his eyes. Sirius sat next to him, back against the wall like Draco, who bent his knees and pulled them against his chest; burying his head between his legs, he began crying.

"They would love to hurt you, but they just can't. There are only solitary cells in Azkaban and you never leave them… I never left my cell. You can only watch them come in… Well, if they die, then they carry them out, of course. Have you ever seen Dementors carrying something? It looks peculiar, the way they cling to the chains and drag the dead bodies over the floor, nearly ripping their arms out…" Sirius sighed as Draco let out a low cry. Slowly, he reached out a hand and patted Draco on the back, would have wrapped an arm around him but Draco backed away, eyes wide with fear. "Oh, what's wrong, Draco? Not into pillow talk?"

"You just raped me," he managed to say, hating the tremor in his voice. "Stop talking about this repulsive stuff."

Sirius let out a barking laughter. "Raped? I didn't rape you," he said, moving closer and cupping Draco's cheek in the palm of his hand. "I made sure you felt good."

"Felt good?" Draco tossed his head away as Sirius bent closer to kiss him.

"And I made sure to do a good job. It's over now with hot chocolate, Pygmy Puffs, Chocoballs and staring at Rosie, especially the latter… Although I loved watching you do all those cute things," Sirius whispered, his lips brushing Draco's cheek. "You'll come back to me, won't you?" He kissed Draco's jaw, slowly moving to his lips. "And then I'll show you how much fun we can have in a bed."

Draco whimpered against Sirius' lips, which gently brushed his. "I'm confused," he breathed and tried to prevent his legs from automatically spreading as Sirius moved between them.

"It's all right," he said in a low voice, both hands on Draco's cheeks now, keeping his head in place and forcing Draco to look straight into those dark grey eyes. "You're mine now. After everything that happened today, you'll always be mine."

The heat was growing in his head again as Sirius' arms slipped around his shaking body, dragging him closer. Draco stared into the darkness of the broom closet, eyes still tear-filled and wide with fear, while Sirius nuzzled his neck, holding him so tight it hurt.