Regulus and Hexes
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: This is for the Guilty Pleasure challenge! Enjoy!
The younger Black, that boy, sent Scabior's eyes to the skies. He didn't understand why the younger Black was so popular. The girls swooned after the ugly (handsome), arrogant (self-confident), prick (King of Slytherin). What was so great about his dull (bright), brown (dark chocolate) eyes? All Scabior saw was a boy with an over sized ego. Of course, who could blame him for having it when women and even some men, threw themselves at his feet for being born in one of the purest families? Still, Scabior felt that the boy with his almost snow white (who could be that pale?), fragile, "aristocratic" face was nothing special. How did he deserve to be considered the epitome of Slytherin?
Especially, since his older brother was in Gryffindor. Now, Scabior still had a little respect for Sirius since he was one of the only people he knew that had a backbone but Sirius was a failure! He conversed with mudbloods and laughed with blood traitors. He was going to get himself killed with his choice of acquaintances. At least Scabior kept himself neutral so no matter what the circumstance he would be okay.
Scabior knew how to save his skin and he didn't need anyone-. A deep and resonating laugh shattered his inner rant and he glanced from the corner of his eyes at the very bane of his existence.
The Black brother was laughing at someone's misery Scabior could tell by the evil twinkle in his almost obsidian eyes. That twinkle made Scabior want to shake the younger boy. The nuisance -Scabior wouldn't say his name and give him power- was younger than him and yet he managed to get on Scabior's last nerves more than anyone he had met! Scabior still watched the Black, eating the last of his lunch, when the Black turned around and looked in his direction.
Scabior's eyes shifted back to his food and he finished the mere crumbs he had left but when he peered back he still saw the Black's eyes watching him. Scabior could feel his blood boil. Yes, Scabior knew he was devilishly handsome with smoky gray eyes, long brown hair, and his layer of eyeliner on along with his lean and lithe (but muscular) frame but staring at him for this period of time was unacceptable! Hadn't his governess or someone taught him any manners? Scabior felt slightly hypocritical but he shook those thoughts away. Scabior had just glanced at him, but he, the bane, was full on watching him!
"Scabior, cat got your tongue?" Dimitri Boleyn asked with his cocky smirk. Dimitri was one of his best friends but he was almost as cocky as the Black.
"Excuse me?" Scabior retorted turning his undivided attention to him.
"You aren't this quiet normally. Are you concocting a scheme or are you brewing?" Dimitri questioned, examining Scabior like a confusing puzzle. Scabior knew his best friend knew him well but that sentence was uncanny.
"I am neither and if I were I wouldn't tell you now." Scabior informed him.
With his words barely out of his mouth he noticed the end of lunch rapidly approaching and so to stop Dimitri's incoming rant he added, "However, I will tell you when we get out of here."
"Then let's leave now." Dimitri stood up from the table and began walking away.
"Dimitri!" Scabior called after him. He couldn't believe all the things he had to deal with: first, the bane staring at him and now Dimitri's perseverance? He was tired and his head was throbbing like a beating heart.
"Come on Scabior, I know you couldn't be that tired." Dimitri knew about Scabior's secret rendezvous with a band that played in Hogsmeade and that would soon, hopefully, become nation wide. He knew Scabior had played his guitar for hours and most likely (he had) gotten drunk too. Still the peer was trying to mess with Scabior's head.
Scabior sighed almost dejectedly and swung his long legs, apparently sexy from some of the Slytherin girls' views, (he did have followers too) and brushed the green streaked hair out of his eyes before walking out of the room. He passed another House table where he could hear giggling from before sweeping his stormy gray eyes to the extravagant doors.
"So what's going on now drama king?" Dimitri interrupted the silence in the hallway with his curiosity.
"Nothing." Scabior answered. Literally, the younger Slytherin was that: nothing, maybe a speck of dust if he was so lucky.
"Really?" Dimitri raised a cocky blonde eyebrow and his forehead crinkled slightly above his baby blue eyes. Scabior knew he wouldn't give up so he abandoned the plan of lying to him and just told him the truth.
"Just that obnoxious little brat."
"What did he do?" Dimitri interrogated him and Scabior narrowed his eyes at both Dimitri's manner and the memory of that thing.
"He was staring at me and he thinks he is so grand and high above all others!" He growled. Nothing could get Scabior more infuriated right now.
"So you're mad because he looked at you? Really? You're acting like the younger, more immature one now." Dimitri taunted. Scabior didn't need his condescending tone on top of his annoyances today. A flash of pain shattered his anger but in less than a second, Scabior was not one to show weakness, he placed a calm mask over his face and buried the pain far into the recesses of his mind.
"I am appalled! He's a prick and a ponce and I have the right to feel this way!" He added the last part at the reaction of his peer.
"Scabior if I didn't know better I'd believe you were having a crush on him."
Those words sent a wave of shock coursing through Scabior's body. He might have been bisexual but there was no way that even Merlin could conjure up, that he could be attracted to that ponce. There was no way, just none.
"Excuse me? I wouldn't find that prick attractive even if he were the last wizard on Earth! Besides, he's too young and naïve and plain ignorant!"
"Sure, Scabior. Whatever you say."
Scabior stopped moving and glared at the arrogant and foolishly smirking idiot before him and started thinking which hex would hurt the most.
"As much as I would love to miss History of Magic, you need to move." An annoying, grating, and slightly venomous voice remarked behind him. Scabior didn't even have to turn around to recognize who it was.
"Well, I believe I don't have to do anything. After all, I am older than you and could make you scream with my brilliant hexes. Now, why don't you say please and I'll consider it?" Scabior turned around to face the little bane and his incredibly sickening posse full of his deluded pureblood girls and wimpy, foolish male followers.
"Oh really?" The Black brother raised his eyebrow almost daring Scabior to hurt him with his cocky smirk and his eyebrow movement. Scabior leaned in and smiled a sweet smile with all his white teeth. Oh, he would gladly take the Black's silent dare and snap him like a twig.
"Sure, which hex do you want first?" Scabior questioned not backing down. He could see a small crowd begin to form around them.
"Scabior as much as I would love to see you hex him; one, a teacher is coming and two, we need to get to Charms before that hag sends us to detention with those Marauders." Dimitri called out and Scabior could see the slight break in the boy's face at the mention of his brother's gang.
"As much as I would love to play my friend is right and besides, who would stay in this hall any longer with you when they can't use a delightful Unforgivable Curse that unfortunately seems to be surrounded by a dead audience?" Scabior could hear the quick footsteps of a professor and walked up to meet Dimitri.
When they were away from earshot Dimitri shook his head and started cursing in Russian, his mother's first tongue, before glaring at him.
"What were you thinking? Are you out of your mind?" Dimitri reprimanded him.
"No, I just wish I didn't have to leave. He'll see it as a sign of cowardice." Scabior remarked dissatisfied by the circumstances.
"Scabior, you are going to get yourself killed or highly maimed from either him or his followers and then you can't play in your band and I don't want to deal with your incessant whining."
"I will not." Scabior retorted to Dimitri's suggestion.
"I believe you are incredibly wrong about that, but you never listen to me." He taunted Scabior until they reached the Charms classroom.
"Dimitri shut up," Scabior shot at him before they entered the classroom.
The lesson was boring and all Scabior could think about was the close proximity he had been to the Black and how close he had been to a duel. He had finally faced that brat and he didn't cringe or flinch or even blink. He had been in full control. Yet he felt that the boy had deluded him into thinking that and maybe their encounter was just beginning. Scabior almost growled at the fact that the boy was the center of his thoughts. He hated the feeling of devoting one part of him to another person even if it was just thinking how obnoxious and haughty that ponce really was.
He slept with seemingly every beautiful girl in their year and tossed them like trash and while Scabior would do the same thing it bothered him to see the girls crying again and again. He could depend on there being one girl at least per week that was crying over him and while Scabior did the same thing he made sure they knew what was coming and even then he only picked the stronger ones that did it themselves. All he is is a ponce and a prick. The bane couldn't do anything. No Unforgivables, no hexes, after all the kid had only watched Scabior he didn't even seem ready to fight.
The day went by in a blur of questions, whispers, and incessant chattering. It spread like wild fire about his encounter since he had been the only one to challenge the boy ever and the boy had some connections such as Bellatrix Black, which made people back down from him (how dare the kid use his connections with other powerful people for intimidation and not his own skills!).
Scabior skipped dinner and the promise of glances, glares, and even more foolish and nonsensical whispers. He headed towards the library to get a start on homework and to learn more about magic and the possibility of combining it with music (his own little project).
The library was quiet and no one was there except for the exacting librarian. He put his shoulder bag down on the table and began working on homework and such. He was almost done with his Potions essay when he felt someone's heated and intense stare burn into his willowy form.
Scabior's blue-gray eyes lifted from the scroll to a pair of cinnamon eyes. What was he doing here? Was he meeting one of his sluts behind a bookcase or something? Scabior rolled his eyes and turned back to the parchment and his cursive scrawl. He was about to write another sentence when he heard footsteps coming towards him and when he looked up there was that boy.
Scabior scowled at him and watched as the ponce sat down in front of him still maintaining eye contact. The encounter seemed to be lunch all over again.
"What do you want?" Scabior demanded from him.
"What ever do you mean Scabior?" He questioned him. Scabior paused at the way he said his name. In his voice his name sounded so…. Scabior didn't have a word for it. He liked it as much as he hated to say that. He liked the way the prick said his name…. Scabior had to hold a shudder back. What was he doing? He wasn't a fool and he should stop acting like one, even if it was only in his mind.
"What do you take me for? A moron?" Scabior put more venom in his voice because of his thoughts.
"I just thought we were rudely interrupted before and we should continue it now." What was he talking about? Scabior had hinted at wanting to use the Killing Curse on him and he was talking about continuing that conversation. Something was off. Scabior hadn't done anything or even interacted with the kid at all and vice versa and yet he was really going to pursue a fight with him, or well get his cousin to fight him? Don't get Scabior wrong he wanted to hurt him but the logical side of his brain had voiced its concerns and Scabior was now trying to formulate a reason why he would hate him or dislike him enough to start a dispute. Unless, he was just jealous of Scabior and that's why he wanted a fight, which was a valid possibility.
"Really what is left to say? Care to inform me?" Scabior voiced his thoughts.
"Nothing actually. Words probably won't do anything."
Was he insane? "Then what do you want?"
"You."
"Excuse me?" Scabior swore his eyes had popped out of their head at this point.
"You don't back down from me, you don't worship me. You, quite frankly, intrigue me." It was clear now that he was in fact insane and narcisstic. The gloating and beaming Black worried him. He seemed very calm and perfectly at ease. Did he think Scabior was a whore? He wasn't and he would show him that if he wasn't still reeling from his unexpected words that acted like cannon balls to Scabior.
"And what do you expect me to just swoon now? Feel so proud of myself?" Scabior retorted trying to recover from his shock just a little bit.
"No, I don't like my men weak." He said simply and he didn't look like he was joking and that scared and enraged Scabior.
"E-excuse me?" Scabior barely got out of his mouth.
"You heard me." His arrogance shined into the conversation and Scabior's defenses started to rapidly arise back up from the ground where they had shattered in shock.
"What makes you so sure that I would ever be 'yours'?" Scabior retorted.
The boy before him leaned forward, so close to Scabior and a blush, how unmanly was that, crept into his cheeks. What was he thinking? What was he doing? Scabior was filled with a panic that left him frozen in his spot. He hated him and yet he couldn't get rid of the rising mass of blood in his cheeks. He didn't know why this was happening and he wanted it to stop.
"Scabior if I didn't know better I'd believe you were having a crush on him."
Dimitri was not right, he couldn't be.
"What makes you think you aren't mine?" He asked Scabior and let his eyes lower themselves to Scabior's lips and then, Scabior couldn't believe it, pressed his lips softly to the corner of his mouth and then full on against his lips.
The contact was so overwhelming and Scabior felt light headed and maybe it was because of the hangover but he didn't stop what he was doing. He moaned against the boy's lips and cursed every deity there may be out there.
He was falling under his spell like those stupid girls yet as he identified this he still didn't have control of his body and he felt tipsy at that moment. He felt like he had been shot up with endorphins! What was going on? This shouldn't be happening yet their tongues were engaged in a tango still.
Scabior finally felt some control-some pure sense!- and slapped him.
"Regulus!" He cried out, shocked at his actions and then furthered shocked by his use of the boy's –Regulus's- first name.
Regulus grinned, even with the red hand print mark on his cheek, and pulled away to his side of the table. "I have to go Scabior but I hope to continue this later."
As Regulus left Scabior swore. He was-wasn't- falling under the spell of that boy and he needed to do something quick. He hoped Dimitri knew what to do for he had no clue where to begin. After all, how do you stop an obviously masochistic man (for Scabior would hurt him beyond repair of the greatest healer at St. Mungo's ability should there be a next time) from violating you again?
Scabior piled his stuff in a bag to take far away from the heinous crime scene to finish it and also checked out a book titled "Scathing Hexes for the Wizard". Scabior figured that would be a wonderful place to start.
