Disclaimer: I do not, unfortunately, own Harry Potter or anything else JKR has created (Sirius Black)
Desiring Only
"…Nastia?"
Nastia Lestrange disentangled herself from Patrick Bohan's mouth just long enough to cast an irritated look at her ex-boyfriend.
Hamish Requiste was standing in the middle of the corridor, looking rather like a fish. "What…what are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" She asked condescendingly. "We did get this far…Why does it matter to you anyway?"
Hamish looked like he either wanted to cry or hex Patrick's sorry arse. Or both. "Because I'm your boyfriend." At this, he glared threateningly at the Hufflepuff, who quickly removed his hands from where they had been wrapped around the girl he had been kissing just a minute before.
"You are not," Nastia defended herself. "I broke up with you yesterday at breakfast. So it's really none of your business what I do." This was ridiculous. She had skipped History of Magic to snog Patrick, giving up a good hour and a half that she could have been sleeping. And Hamish was ruining it.
"I wasn't even at breakfast yesterday. I slept over and missed the first part of Potions."
There was a pause, which Patrick used to extract himself from the domestic spat and leave. Nastia thought about it for a moment. "Oops," she acknowledged after a few more moments. "Well I meant to. Consider yourself dumped." She stomped off angrily, barely noticing the bell as it rang for lunch.
"Hey Nasty, you look rather debauched." Her best friend, Rachelle Zambini, caught up to her just outside of the Great Hall and hurriedly tried to straighten Nastia's silver and green tie and smooth her dark brown hair. "Bohan any good?"
"No luck there," Nastia pouted. "Hamish interrupted. Besides, I think his parents are muggles. The two girls sat down at the Slytherin table and began serving themselves food.
"Since when do you care about anything but their looks?" Rachelle asked, knowing very well how Nastia's relationships generally went and what her criteria for being a participant was.
Nastia scowled. "Since Mulciber told Rastaban about Blake. I have no desire to relive that particular conversation…'Really Nastia, a mudblood? Have you no shame?'," she mimicked her older brother. "I'm pushing it really. Imagine what my sister-in-law would do to me if she learned! I'd be dead, Rodolphus's sister or not." Nastia lowered her voice and Rachelle had to lean forward to catch her next words. "I swear, the Blacks are getting more senile every day. Honestly, I don't blame Black for getting out of there." She cast a lustful glance over at the Gryffindor table and continued, "Or Andromeda for that matter, even though she married that muggleborn."
Rachelle nodded emphatically. "Poor Narcissa, growing up with all of that, don't you think. Even Regulus just has no spine. I mean he's practically Oedipal in his-" she clamped her mouth shut and tried to shift closer to Nastia as Severus Snape sat down next to her. Nastia grimaced and tried to make room, but the (very large) presence of Goyle made it difficult.
"Doesn't he ever wash his hair?" Rachelle mouthed so that Snape couldn't see. Nastia snickered softly and shook her head.
"Zambini, Lestrange," he nodded at them sullenly. They were saved from answering by a new arrival.
"Sniv-oh, I mean Snape," Thalia Gamp smirked. "I believe you are in my seat."
He sneered. "Fuck off Gamp, we don't have seats. And I was just talking to Rachelle and Nasty here, so I suggest that you go find somewhere else to sit."
"Funny, I didn't see them talking to you," Thalia responded.
"Lestrange to you Snivilly," Nastia said at the same time, borrowing the Marauders' favorite epithet for the unwelcome presence. He colored unpleasantly.
Annoyed, Thalia stood up over him, taller even if he had been standing. "It's my seat because they're my friends, and I don't want you here. Understood? And I won't hesitate to tell Evans where you were last night. Not that she needs a reason to hate you even more." Snape looked stricken, but knew she had him and reluctantly rose.
"Bitch," he whispered at her hatefully as he passed her on his way out of the hall. She blew him a kiss.
"Be nice," she smirked.
Rachelle looked enormously relieved. "Thank you," she exclaimed fervently, kissing each of Thalia's cheeks. Merlin, what if that hair was contagious? Was there one of those-" she lowered her voice-"Death Eater meetings yesterday?"
Thalia nodded solemnly. "In the village. And you know who I heard went? Black."
Nastia dropped the roll she was buttering. "What?!" She spun around to search the faces at the Gryffindor table, as if she would be able to see the betrayal on his face. Being a sixth year, he was a year younger than she was, but he was infamous enough around the school and in their families' circles that she recognized him easily.
"Not that one, Nasty!" Thalia hissed, although she looked amused. "As if! His brother, stupid."
Rachelle choked on her muffin. "But he's like twelve!"
The taller girl rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a drama queen Rache. He's fifteen."
"Still not very old," Nastia pointed out. "Its pure recklessness. Them and their stupid Dark Lord…they're going to get us all killed! I think Narcissa's half out of her mind already and Lucius barely started up a month ago."
Thalia made a small noise of agreement. Rachelle sighed. "Can we stop talking about the stupid boys?"
"You didn't think they were so stupid when you were drooling over Potter yesterday at dinner," Nastia teased.
Rachelle blushed. "I wasn't drooling. I have more class then that, Lestrange," she sniffed haughtily.
"Speaking of which, how was Bohan?" Thalia yawned.
"Wouldn't know, Hamish interrupted."
Thalia raised an eyebrow. "I thought you dumped him yesterday."
"Funny that, apparently no. But I still need a shag desperately before holidays and being polite to my perverted uncles."
"Slut."
"Takes one to know one, Gamp." The girls smirked at each other.
"You know who's looking delectable today," Rachelle commented languidly, interrupting her friends' bickering. "Sirius Black. I think he should be your holiday shag."
Nastia gaped at her. Thalia turned around and examined the boy across the hall thoughtfully. "He is rather gorgeous isn't he? The Blacks may be insane, but they do produce the most beautiful children."
"And he's even a pure-blood." Rachelle's eyes were dancing as she raised an eyebrow at Nastia.
"Because I'm sure that will appease Rudolphus's crazy wife. Her estranged cousin. I wouldn't have a body left to bury."
"I think you're just scared your flirting abilities aren't up to the challenge," taunted Thalia. "I hear he's quite the difficult catch."
Nastia turned slightly to appraise the boy in question. He was tall, undoubtedly more so than her, with flawless, pale-gold skin. He had perfect, aristocratic features, complimented by impossibly high cheekbones and dark, full lips. Ebony hair fell elegantly to his shoulders and his eyes were the same, unreadable, grey heather as his brother's just down the table.
"He's prettier then I am," she found herself saying, almost offendedly.
Thalia snickered wickedly. "Go on…you know you want to…"
"But he's a Gryf! And Bellatrix…" she shuddered.
"I hear he's amazing in the sack too…" Thalia prompted, which was of course, the final blow to Nastia's more self-preserving side.
"You better be in the front row at my funeral." She warned both of her friends.
"Can you have a funeral without a body?" Rachelle mused, making Nastia glare at her fiercely and Thalia snicker.
"All right Nasty," said the latter. "Let's see how good you really are."
The attempt started as soon as lunch was over. Nastia had two classes with Black because of NEWTs, Charms and Arithmancy, but she was forced into action sooner then she had planned.
The number one rule of flirting is eye contact. Making eye contact is uncomfortable, and most people glance away quickly when faced with a surprise connection. But as any good flirt can tell you, meeting a target's eyes is a huge step to being noticed, at the very least. So when Black-Sirius-glanced over as lunch ended, she took advantage of it. She looked at him, her sapphire eyes met his dark grey ones, and she smirked at him just a little.
He was surprised, she could tell, but didn't hesitate to give her a small grin and an acknowledging nod in return. Of course, longer then a couple seconds would have been obvious and she had to get to class, so she reluctantly turned away.
Pleased, she spent Herbology plotting her next move. When class ended, Nastia was the first one out the door as she hurried to Arithmancy. Rachelle was used to this particular ploy and had already sat down in his usual seat. The classroom soon filled but the seat next to Nastia remained empty, the perk of being both a seventh year and a Slytherin.
Unsurprisingly, Black and Potter arrived late. Professor Talbert pursed his lips at them disapprovingly. "Five points from Gryffindor; if you cannot even use a clock I do not expect that you will be able to pass my class."
Sirius bowed politely. "Our apologies sir."
"I don't want to hear it, Black. Please take the seat next to Miss Lestrange, Potter you may sit by Miss Evans. Nastia smiled to herself as the boys moved to the spots he had indicated. Lily sputtered a few protests which were brushed away by the irritated teacher.
"Black," she nodded at him as he sat down, smiling slightly. He raised his eyebrows and gave her just a small smirk- an unusual reaction.
Talbert had already started his lecture and Nastia quickly began to take notes, glancing surreptitiously at the boy beside her every so often. He wasn't biting, but she took comfort in the fact that at least her seduction was going better then the one behind her.
"Hey Evans," came the whisper from James Potter. Lily's eye roll was almost audible and an amused grin played over Sirius's face. "Evans. If one is lonely, two is company, and three's a crowd, what's four and five?" Lily ignored him. "Evans? It's nine. Four and five are nine! Geddit?"
"Potter, please just pay attention," she muttered.
"But Evans-"
"I wonder if this corner could tell us what the magical properties of the number seven are, since they seem disinclined to pay attention." Professor Talbert was standing over them, glaring. Nastia's hand shot up. "Miss Lestrange?"
Nastia shot a quick glance at Sirius to make sure he was watching. "Seven is the most powerful magical number," she started. "In the magical world, seventh children may have particular gifts. In ancient times, there were seven visible celestial objects. It represents perfect order and strength."
"Very good Miss Lestrange." Nastia tossed her chestnut curls smugly and glanced again at the boy beside her. He hadn't even seemed to notice! He barely glanced her way for the rest of class, instead passing notes to Potter furiously. This was completely unacceptable.
"…I just don't understand," Nastia complained later to Rachelle, when they were back in their Slytherin dormitory. "He knew what I was doing, I swear, he just…ignored it."
Rachelle rolled her eyes. "It had to happen sometime," she said, not unkindly. "Maybe he's with somebody else. Or just not interested."
Nastia's face now took on an offended sort-of edge. "Not interested? Rache, really, it's me," she hesitated, dispirited and not at all in the mood to be egotistical. "Do you think so? Have I lost my touch? Did something happen to my face or something without me knowing?" She hurried into the bathroom. "I don't see anything different."
Rachelle sighed. "Nasty, your face is fine."
Nastia's head reappeared. "Do you think it's my nickname? Do you think he know that you guys call me- and thinks I'm actually-?" She looked quite dejected by this point as she sank moodily onto her bed.
"The guy is friends with a bloke he calls Wormtail," Rachelle pointed out evenly, "I don't think he much cares what we call you."
"…You don't mind, do you? I never considered you might not like being called Nasty." Rachelle added, looking worried.
"No," Nastia admitted. "I never cared. Except, you know, when Snape or someone uses it."
"Well then I think that you're being ridiculous," Rachelle decided. "Maybe he's gay. Or maybe you just need to give it a couple more days."
The brunette sighed and rolled over. "Maybe you're right. I think I'm going to go for a walk."
"Nastia, it's after hours-" Rachelle warned, but she was already out the door.
Nastia had been roaming the deserted corridor for about fifteen minutes when she heard voices coming and ducked into a hidden niche behind the Tapestry of the Fianna. As the voices got closer, she realized that the prowlers were not teachers, but students. And they were talking about- her.
"-seemed interested."
"Interested is one way to put it Padfoot. I think you've made a new conquest." It was Potter and Black. Just her luck.
"Jealous much, Prongs? You definitely made loads of progress with Lily today." Sirius snapped. Then Nastia heard a reluctant sigh. "Sorry mate. You'll get her in the end, you know."
Potter sighed heavily, "Yeah, Padfoot," but it lacked conviction. "So what about Lestrange?"
"Oh," Sirius paused, considering. The boys sounded like they had stopped walking now. "She's quite pretty. And not in for anything serious I would think, with her relatives."
"You mean yours that she somehow got saddled with," Potter snorted.
"Well, yes. Unfortunately for her at least."
There was a thoughtful pause. "She is a snake." Potter said it like it was akin to being a mass murderer or a baby snatcher.
"But she did save you and Lils from the wrath of Talbert earlier." Black pointed out. "And with my history I can attest that not all snakes are as bad as my parents and Bellatrix. Andi's alright. Even Narcissa, given who she married, isn't half-bad."
Potter gave a rather incredulous grunt. "So you're going to go for it then. You realize the holidays start in three days?"
"Yeah, I imagine that's why she was so obvious today." Nastia bristled slightly at that. "Believe me, you can't go home to these things with a bunch of pent up tension."
"Well have fun with that then. Where's the map, we need to get through the Armory and Kettleburn practically slept there yesterday." There were some shuffling noises.
They had a map? A map of Hogwarts?
Sirius was humming randomly. "Here. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." There was silence for a split second and then a choking noise.
"Are you-?" came Potter's voice. "Oh, fuck, Lestrange?" The next moment footsteps were hurrying towards her hiding space and Nastia barely had time to numbly realize that somehow, they had found out she was there before a rather stunned Sirius Black had pulled back the tapestry.
Shit.
Nastia's priorities automatically shifted to accommodate preserving her dignity at the top spot. Neither said anything for what seemed like several hours, but instead just gaped at each other.
Sirius was the first one to recover enough to speak. "Les- Nastia. What-"
She leaned against the stone wall in a would-be casual manner, her face pink. "I thought you two were teachers."
Potter, who had come up behind his best friend, looked slightly offended at that. "Us? As if."
"Well I realize that now," snapped Nastia. Sirius was regarding her thoughtfully.
"So I suppose you heard us then?" he asked.
"The last five minutes, or so," she admitted reluctantly. "You were talking about me."
"We were," Sirius agreed. "So I suppose that evens it up since we both know about the other now."
Nastia stared up at him through her lashes, confused. "What?"
Potter had apparently understood though. "I'll just leave you two at it then, shall I?" He rolled his eyes and ambled away, whether back to his dorm or off to make more mischief was unclear.
Sirius took another step towards her, bringing him within a foot of her. "I mean," he explained, "we should just forget all the flirting and get on with the shagging." Another step.
Nastia couldn't help but grin at that. "A man after my own heart," she murmured coyly.
And then he was kissing her, and Merlin, if he shagged half as well as he snogged then she would be a very happy girl in the morning. "Good?" he mumbled against her lips, but she could only nod dazedly and then his lips were on hers again. Her hands had found their way to his hair and lost no time entangling themselves in his silky locks; one of his was firmly pressed against the small of her back while the other traveled down her leg to her knee, hoisting it up near his hip and granting him better access to her mouth.
She didn't know how long they stayed like that until she became aware of the mounting tension and the fingers skimming her stomach gently, softly rising higher as Sirius kissed her ear, her neck, her collarbone…and then back up.
"Stay here?" he asked her softly, but urgent against her ear. "Or I know somewhere else…"
They were still completely obscured from anyone in the corridor by the long tapestry, and the thought that someone might pull back the heavy, embroidered, cloth and catch them sent Nastia's stomach soaring to an entirely new level. "Here," she breathed.
He smirked against her cheek. "Brilliant." They frantically scrambled to remove ties and shirts, their rush only making the task more difficult (and the frenzied kisses in between articles of clothing not helping much either).
Nastia held her breath as he entered her, succumbing wholly to the mounting pleasure, the intense heat that was overtaking her body.
"Sirius," she breathed, not caring that it was only a onetime thing, a way to make sure she wasn't killed by his cousin over Christmas dinner.
"Nastia," he mumbled, almost in response. Her eyes fluttered shut as she finally found her release, in a hiss of ragged breath and profanity. He came almost silently, a hitched breath and a blissful sigh the only audible signs.
Sated, Nastia drew her robes around her to protect her nude body from the drafty air as she watched Sirius recover. Finally, he too sat up, still breathing unevenly.
"That," he told her sincerely, "was amazing."
She grinned a little. "It was, wasn't it?" she agreed. "You're quite good you know."
He looked a little smug. "I do. You were too." She laughed.
"Of course." There was a rather awkward pause then, in which Nastia ran her hand through her thoroughly tousled hair.
"So," Sirius finally broke the silence, "we can just go back to our respective dorms and never speak of this again…" he paused, and she cocked her head at him, "or, we can move this party on up to the Room of Requirement."
The grin she gave him then was positively wicked.
The next morning, Nastia stole back to her room before sunrise, rather exhausted, but enormously satisfied and thoroughly debauched.
Rachelle was in the common room, where she had obviously fallen asleep waiting for Nastia to come back from her "walk".
She shook her friend gently and Rachelle's eyelashes fluttered open sleepily. Nastia grinned at her best friend.
"Mission accomplished."
A/N: Okay, I'm not going to say the word. But if you enjoyed, please let me know, as this is my first story on . It would make my day.
