The Riddle's Riddle
By T O R
Prologue
The raint to the wind said,
"You push and I'll pelt."
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.
Lodged
Godric turned, hiding his smile as the door opened and shut as if by a wind. He forced himself to continue working on his work, ignoring the feeling of eyes trailing down his body, forced himself to act as if he didn't know exactly whose eyes were watching him.
It became difficult when invisible hands started to trail down the skin those eyes had marked.
He shivered, enjoying the sensations, almost quivering at the feel of each finger, but contiued his playing, acting as if he felt only the wind let in from an open window. He even broke away from those adoring fingers to walk to the windows and draw back the curtains. His hidden smile wondered how the other would improvise without the excuse of a breeze.
A low growl came from those invisible lips, but Godric went back to his work at the table, fiddling with the latest of his toys--a quill magicked to copy down its wizard's every thought--but halfway there, he came across a wall. Frowning, but truly grinning inside, Godric went through all the motions of dispelling the thing, pretending like the sweat coming down his forehead was from the effort and not from the hands that had resumed touching him, feeling across his bare chest. When the barrier finally came down, those hands withdrew quickly, leaving him biting back a longing sigh, and Godric stalked across the room, looking to all the world as a wizard suspicious of foul play. He examined his office, looking behind pictures and acting like the kisses he recieved were nothing at all.
Finding nothing, but getting those wonderful hands playing across his skin for his time spent searching, Godric reluctantly went back to his work, sending a carefully aimed web to block his doorway. Now, his lover was trapped in here with him until either gave up the game. It wasn't likely that such a defeat would happen.
The other's eyes were back on him, caressing him as surely as a pair of hands, but aside from that there was no distractions. Godric finished his work, making a horde of careless mistakes in the process, but he finally put the magicked quill down and turned around to summon his robes, hiding a frown of frustration. What were those eyes doing? Nothing was happening, and his body was quivering with need.
When he reached his robes, though, Godric almost purred in contentment. Another body was sharing the robes with him, one stripped to the waist as he was, one whose every inch was splayed along the robes as if trying to pretend nothing existed but the robes. It made for an awkward dressing, but Godric didn't care for anything beyond those hands, those lips, those eyes, caressing him. No robes were made like this.
He swallowed, unsteadily dismissing the web blocking his doorway, and started his hard walk towards the door. The other's body was wrapped around him, desperately trying to make him stop, touching his every weakness. He groaned, pausing at his desk to take a deep, shaky breath, and he could feel those lips turned up in a victorious smile. The feeling made him jerk up, taking up his acting of feeling nothing like a shield, and forced him those last few stiff steps to the door.
Immediately, the other sighed, stepping back. The robes fell off, but when Godric leaned down to pick them up again, they were just simple material, fitting to his body perfectly. Face trained to show nothing, he brushed off the light layer of dust, settling the robes back onto his shoulders, and marched down the hall.
Laughter pealed from behind him, a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "Someday, Godric," his lover's voice promised, "you'll lose that control of yours, and I'll win."
Out of the room, it was safe to now turn around and acknowledge that body that appeared from nowhere. Godric's face broke out into a bright grin, and he shook a finger. "But not today." Half-turning, he paused, making a show of indifference as he added, "Winter is very cold this year, cold enough to make a wizard wish he had something to heat the nights." Walking away, he didn't need to see the other's lighted face to know that this night, he would be warm enough. Offer given, offer taken up.
James frowned, pressing his nose against the train's window to see more clearly through the foggy glass. Pressing his nose against it didn't help, though; breathing only made the glass foggier.
Disgustedly, he wiped at the window and tried to see through again, but whatever it was that caught his eye was now gone.
The doors slid open, and James only got the brief impression of a black head before he was tackled with a grunt. "What the--Sirius!!"
Sirius Black was laughing when the other two trailed in. Remus grinned, taking the opportunity to kick at his friends while they were down, and Peter looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but instead pulled out a chocolate frog from a pocket and unwrapped it. The thing tried to get away, and Peter's quick grab all but squashed the frog into a ball of chocolate.
Sirius squirmed up to take James's seat and, with exaggerated awe, stuffed his face into the window. "Ah, yes, now I see!" He pointed out the glass. "The secrets of the world, right outside the train and all waiting for the looking."
At the moment, however, Lily Evans was boarding the train, and when she saw Sirius pointing she flushed up and swinged her fist in the air.
"What in the world are you looking at?" Remus wondered, peering out the window as well. He blinked at the muggle-born witch, then his face split into a wide grin. "Got a crush on Evans?"
James's face burned, and he hurriedly drew down the curtains, ignoring Sirius's startled yelp when his nose got snapped. "I wasn't looking at anything!"
Peter laughed, pulling out more frogs for the group to share. "Sure you weren't, James. I hear pressing your nose against a window gives you a very cool look, now days."
"Yea, add that to your glasses," Sirius teased, putting up a hand to swipe at said glasses, "and you'll be the number one nerd at Hogwarts." James took a step back, bringing a hand up to firmly secure his glasses to his forehead.
The door slid open again, this time to show off the startled face of one Severus Snape.
"Then again," Sirius added, "I don't think anyone will ever beat Snapey here."
Snape's face paled an inch, surprising because James didn't think anything could get whiter than that, and the Slytherin didn't even say anything before he took a step back and slammed the door shut.
Remus winced, looking harrassed, and though everyone's mind slid back to that night last year, no one wanted to really remember it.
Peter saved the day but calling to attention the number of wizards he noticed stomping around in thick black cloaks at the station, and James nearly jumped out of his chair. That had been what he saw! A wizard all buttoned up i one of those thick cloaks staring at him.
"I didn't notice," Remus confessed carelessly, unpeeling a chocolate frog and frowning at his card. "Everyone's always wearing black at Hogwarts, and you get sort of used to it. Besides, the weather's been awful." His nose wrinkled. "Does anyone know how hard it is to chase out garden gnomes when the ground's half-frozen? The little buggers are cold as ice!"
"I had to pick weeds and mow the lawn the muggle way," Sirius complained in a self-sacrificing way.
Snickering, Peter asked, "Was it because your dad got your yearly report?"
Sirius rolled his eyes, leaning back into his seat. "Merlin, when he read that, you'd have thought McGonagall was bloody trying to goad him on. Sometimes I get the feeling that she's trying everything she can to make sure I don't get let back into Hogwarts."
"You should be more like Peter," James joked. "You've never gotten in trouble for anything, have you Peter?"
The boy grinned innocently. "Course not, James. Who'd ever think I cause trouble? The report McGonagall sent to my mom only said that I was hanging out with bad company. Seems like that old witch thinks I'm too good for the likes of you three."
"What about you?" Remus asked James, frowning lightly. "Didn't your dad swear that the next time you pulled a prank on the prefects, you'd never get your apparation license?"
James shook his head, stretching on the benches. "Naw, nothing like that happened. I'm still on schedule to get that license before the rest of you."
"Not if I can convince Dumbledore that I need it to get back and forth between my house and my helpless aunt's home," Sirius put in hotly.
"And you've been working on that line for almost two years," Peter reminded.
"Yea, I don't think you can really fool Dumbledore. At least, not too much," Remus added, looking a bit guilty.
"Anyway," James said loudly, dragging the conversation back to himself, "my dad didn't get mad because I finally figured out the spell we need to break the charms on those reports." That brought all eyes wide and waiting. "I sneaked the report to my room before my dad got home, and got a few hours of practice before I broke though. When he read it, he found out that I was doing fantastically well in school, aside from Potions of course, and that my pranking almost completely stopped."
Remus looked uncertain. "He didn't believe it, did he? Three years of trouble, and then you're suddenly the perfect student?"
"My dad wouldn't," Sirius muttered, watching James suspiciously.
James spread his arms out. "He had to. Don't you see? McGonagall spent a lot of time charming those reports so we couldn't change them, so my dad had no choice but to believe it. Of course, he did sort of question me about my radical behaviour change, but all I said was, 'Didn't you say that I had to straighten up to get my license,' and he bought it." Smiling like a hero, James explained the steps to break through the reports' charms, adding, "Now we won't have to worry about summer chores anymore."
The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was spent villianously planning out the may pranks to be made as payback against certain enemies and rivals, and all thoughts of the black-robed wizard staring at him from the plateform faded from James's mind.
Harry threw back his head and laughed, clutching at his sides with his eyes narrowed and leaking tears. Hermione squeaked, dropping her books as her eyes went impossibly wide, and after that squeak she didn't make a sound.
In front of them, a very disgruntled Ron didn't look nearly as happy with the situation.
"What?" he demanded, shaking a fist at Harry. "What's so funny?"
The answer was as obvious in the fist shaken. Ron was stuffed into robes so frilly, they made his old dress robes look absolutely plain. The robes were a bit big, though, and so not only did they stretch to the floor, they piled there. They also covered his arms and hands, so long that a few inches of material hung loose from where Ron's hands were. In short, he looked like a magical maniquin from the underworld.
Madam Malkin clicked her tongue and shook her head. "That won't do at all, child. Why in the world did you give me the wrong dress size? No, that won't do at all." With a hum, she called back her magical measuring tape, this time watching to make sure Ron didn't mess with the measurements, and at last satisfied she pulled out her wand from her pocket. "Now hold still dear, I wouldn't want to cut you."
Glowering, Ron did as was asked, and soon the robes were the perfect size. To Harry, though, size wasn't the problem. All those silly frills and ribbons still made Ron look insane, but Harry bit his lip, looking away so determinedly that he as well have been staring. Ron growled.
Hermione, though, swallowed and took a hesitant step towards the Weasley, a hand coming out to almost pat his shoulder. "Wow," she breathed. "You look--" Her face went red and she back away so fast she almost tripped. "I mean, very nice, Ron."
Harry frowned and looked back at his best friend, trying to see whatever it was Hermione saw. "You think that looks nice?" Hermione just nodded, face going redder. On second thought, Ron's face was just as red. Harry wanted to roll his eyes and laugh. "But isn't it a bit frilly?"
"Oh, that?" Malkin waved her wand again and all the ribbons disappeared. "Those were only there to hold the robe together while it sewed itself, dear, not to really be worn." She turned an appreciative glance to Ron herself, nodding. "Now that will do quite well. That shade of gold sets off your eyes quite nicely. You would do well wearing that color more often."
Ron didn't seem to have heard a word, fidgeting as he was with his robes and avoiding Hermione's eyes. Hermione herself didn't seem all that well with it, for that matter.
This time, Harry really did roll his eyes. He picked up his own robes and headed outside, grinning at his two friends. "Thanks for the robes, Madam Malkin. You two are coming, aren't you?"
He took a step outside, shaking his head with inner laughter, and was so focused on his now fumbling friends that he didn't notice the black robes storming down the street until Hermione screamed, "Harry, watch out!"
She really shouldn't have screamed his name; the Death Eaters all heard, and as one turned their path until they were all heading towards him.
Harry dropped his robes, pulling his wand out as he dived back into the shop, but one of the spells hurdled at him dropped him to the street. Instantly, the arrival of Aurors set off a battle in the street. The Death Eaters were only few, and some went down right away. Hermione had her wand out, ducking behind the store's door, and pointed it at him. When he felt his body lift half a foot from the ground and start floating towards her, Harry almost felt safe.
The last thing he remembered was Hermione's mouth dropping wide for another scream, then the spell getting cut off from under him as his head banged against hard concrete, then darkness and nothing at all.
