The Serpent's Tale: Year One
Lucius Malfoy stood in line impatiently, watching the boy currently sitting under the sorting hat. Remus Lupin was his name, and he was fidgeting quite a lot under the scrutiny of the oversized, overused garmet. He almost chuckled, wondering what exactly the hat was saying to the horrified boy.
Lucius yawned. He certainly hoped the ceremony would be over soon. It was a pain to stand for so long, after being on a train for hours and then rowing across a lake. Not that Lucius didn't like boats, but he wasn't accustomed to so many modes of transportation. If a Malfoy wanted to see somebody, they invited them over. If somebody wanted to see a Malfoy, they came over. A Malfoy never follows, always leads.
And he just knew he was getting into Slytherin. Why wait for the entire ceremony if you were already so damn sure??
He shifted his weight as the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" and fixed his robes. He was next.
"Malfoy, Lucius," Professor McGonagall called out. She was a middle-aged lady, maybe about forty, who had a reputation for being strict. Lucius cringed at the sound of her voice, and stepped forward with his chin held up high.
The hat considered him for maybe half a minute before making its decision and shouting, "SLYTHERIN!" Lucius smiled. Just as he'd suspected.
Ignoring the other children being sorted, he waltzed over to his table amidst the cheers and back pats from his fellow Slytherins. Anyone who was anyone had heard of the Malfoys, and were eager to make themselves known as well.
The ceremony continued, boring, as Lucius suspected, except for a tiny boy who appeared to be all black and white, his skin a rival to Lucius' own. He was sorted into Slytherin, though took no notice of the congratulations he received or the people asking him to sit near them.
Lucius hated to admit it, but he was intrigued.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Every meal went by the same from the beginning feast and onward. Lucius would be swamped by people, (for even the older girls tried to flirt with him,) and the tiny black-swathed Slytherin would sit all on his own, reading or just eating in silence. Nobody tried to approach him anymore, not even the boys from his own dorm, because he simply offered no response. But a Malfoy never gives up. They were a lot of things, but they certainly weren't quitters.
As Lucius headed to class after lunch that day, he rushed ahead of Patrick Parkinson, a boy who seemed more than desperate for Lucius' attention, and caught up with the mystery boy.
"Hey," he offered as way of conversation, but the boy said nothing, just stopped and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm Lucius," he tried again, "Lucius Malfoy." He offered his hand, which was, unsurprisingly, denied. He frowned; this was not going to be easy.
The boy continued on his way without a single word, but Lucius managed to steal a seat next to him in Transfigurations. Professor McGonagall was asking questions of the class, but Lucius payed her no mind. He was trying to remember the dark boy's name...
"Mr. Malfoy?! Are you listening to me?!"
"Huh?" Lucius' head shot up, his blue eyes meeting those of a very angry Professor. He blinked. "I am now," he said, but the lady shook her head. At the other side of the room Lucius spotted a group of Gryffindors who seemed to find his situation very amusing. They'd pay for that.
McGonagall put her hands on her hips. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. I suppose I should make an example of you, no??" She turned to face the class and address them all. Lucius frowned. He didn't like being an example.
"Detention," she said to the entire room of people, but she was only speaking to Lucius, "for not paying attention. And 3 points from Slytherin." Half the room groaned, but said nothing to protest. "See me after class, Mr. Malfoy." Lucius crossed his arms and muttered, "Yes Ma'am," before pouting into his textbook. Next to him, the black-haired boy was watching his every move.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Lucius' detention was fairly simple. Take a bucket, fill it with water from the pond, and water the four plants standing outside greenhouse two. Easy enough, but boring, and the bucket was heavy. He was on his final trip when he heard an odd sound. One he recognized from his dorm room, but he couldn't identify it.
Walking forward so as to approach the object slowly, he moved through the grass almost as silently as the light breeze, until he came to a tiny person in a black robe, huddled on a hill next to greenhouse five. He knew immediately who the person was, and the sounds coming from him.
In an effort to comfort, he moved to step forward and sit next to him, but he tripped on a stepping stone he had been trying to avoid and he went crashing into the stone in front of him, sending the bucket flying across the ground, and his face into the cement. The other boy spun around swiftly.
"What do you want?!" He demanded loudly, and it was the first time Lucius had heard his voice at all. His face was still pale, but his eyes were rather pink around the edges and he had wet lines on his face from tears. Lucius' own face was stinging as he stared, wide eyed, at the boy towering over his fallen form.
"I," Lucius started, blinking and struggling to sit up. He touched his face, and his fingers came away bloody. Wonderful, and he had such a *nice* face. "I wanted to know if you were-"
"Get out of here."
Lucius was shocked. No one except another Malfoy ever interrupted a Malfoy. But he'd let it slide. For some reason, he liked this angry boy. "But, are you sure you're o-"
"Go away!" The boy yelled, turning away and sitting down angrily on the stone. He turned only long enough to glare at Lucius, who was staring back in shock and hurt.
Silently, and much more smoothly than he had approached, Lucius rushed away to fill his bucket again. He wasn't going to let the boy get to him. Nothing ever got under a Malfoy's skin.
When he reached the lake he filled the bucket, and dipped his palms under the water's surface, cupping the dirty liquid and attempting to wash his face. It stung.
The dark boy sat and watched as Lucius ran away. Everyone knew Lucius, though Lucius couldn't possibly know everyone. He glared as his retreating form. How dare somebody sneak up on him like that! What a nerve!
But the instance replayed in his mind, how Lucius ignored his own injured face to see if he was alright, how hurt he looked when he turned him away for the second time, and the little spark of anger he thought he saw in his pale blue eyes before he grabbed his bucket and stalked off. Then he remembered his father, and how he tried to tell him about getting accepted to Hogwarts-
"Hey, Dad! Guess-"
"Go away Severus." The man answered coldly, not even looking up from his tools. But Severus was not about to give up. He had been accepted to *Hogwarts!* His father was going to be proud.
"But father, I got-"
"*GO *AWAY*, SEVERUS!*" He shouted, spinning around to reveal a very angry father, his hand held back, though he knew he wasn't about to hit him. He'd have to put his book down. Then Severus turned on his heel and retreated.
It just isn't right to treat people like that. So reluctantly he stood and ran after the blond, who was rapidly disappearing before him. Stopping at the greenhouse, he grabbed a clean rag from one of the boxes and hurried down to the lake. Lucius was rubbing his face and whimpering.
Suddenly, the blond froze and stared at the lake. Staring back at him was the same face that sent him away. He turned around and looked up at the boy, whose stare was almost penetrating.
"You will need a rag, to clean that." He said simply and continued to stare. Lucius nodded.
"Once I'm done here, I'm going to get cleaned up." He lifted the bucket one more time, the metal handle digging into his soft palms, as he trudged back to the school.
He quickly watered the last plant and placed the bucket on the ground next to them. One quick glance in the direction he came and he knew the dark- haired boy was gone. He sighed and made his way to the Entrance Hall.
As he rounded the corned where the doors stood, he came face-to-face with the large, dark eyes of the other boy. He didn't move, but blinked. Lucius couldn't help but smile. So he *had* waited for him.
.........................
Back in the dorm room Lucius sat on his bed, his feet dangling lazily off one side, the top of one foot underneath his other. The dark boy was rummaging through his trunk, and picked out a green bottle with a purple cork. Not too attractive, but it looked safe.
He poured some of the liquid on the rag and slowly approached Lucius' face, and the lighter boy didn't even realize he had been flinching away until the rag came in contact with his cheek.
Now *THIS* stung.
He hissed and squirmed away from the rag, fighting the urge to rub his abraised cheek. The other boy said nothing, just watched him for a moment before applying the cloth to his face again. It hurt less this time, and even less the time after, until the small boy moved away and took out another contained of what appeared to be a jar of pinkish jelly.
He wiped the unused part of the rag in the center, and walked back over to Lucius. This time there was no pain, only the creamy feel of the jelly. The boy stared a moment, before nodding and washing off the rag. Lucius crawled to the head of his bed and picked up his bedside mirror. Besides the remnants of the salve, his face was back to normal. He was pretty again.
Severus brought the rag back over, letting Lucius wash his own face, and then inspected him once more. For a moment, Lucius stared at those black eyes, while the other admired his own handiwork. Then, the dark boy's face turned up in what was a rather attractive, though rather meager, smirk.
"Done," he said with finality, as Parkinson entered the room. The intruder looked at Lucius and smiled. "Wanna come to dinner??" he offered, still smiling. Lucius nodded and looked over at his new companion.
Parkinson shifted uneasily. "Er," he started, "You wanna come to, Severus??"
Lucius nearly began jumping up and down. *Now* he remembered his name. The Severus boy nodded as well and they all went down to dinner together, where for the first time since the beginning of the year fest, Severus did not sit alone.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
It was two weeks before Christmas, and Lucius was hating the cold. His new pajamas (for everything he owned was new) were warm and comfortable, except for one thing. One *very* annoying thing. For possibly the fifth time since he put his shirt on, he clawed at the back of his own neck and attempted to tear off the cloth tag. It wouldn't budge. From the bed next to his, Severus was watching with one of his patented half-smirks.
Without a word, the dark-haired boy moved to his trunk as Lucius struggled, and emerged with something in his hand. He pulled Lucius' own hands away from his neck, and that's when he saw something silver reflecting the evening light. Severus had a knife.
Immediately Lucius moved away, scared more of the knife than the person yielding it, and let out a panicked, "What are you *doing?!*"
Severus frowned, and without a word, slipped back to his side of the room, threw the penknife into his trunk angrily, slammed the lid shut with more force than was neccessary, and climbed into his bed, pulling the green curtains shut with one loud swish.
Lucius blinked. What was that all about?
For a moment he stared at the closed curtains, cutting him off from his (as he thought) new friend. He whipped his feet off his bed and made across the cold, stone floor until he arrived at Severus' bed, where he angrily yanked the curtains open.
Severus was sitting on his knees, his eyes already perfectly level with Lucius' own, as if he knew the blond was coming over.
"What was that all about?" Lucius demanded, his brows pulled tightly together. Severus glared, and Lucius acknowledged that no eleven year old boy had any right to look so frightening. "Well??"
Severus stared back, not moving or speaking, and blinking less often than a cat. But Malfoys do not back down, and Lucius could stand there until the other boy fell asleep.
Ten minutes passed, and all the other dormmates were climbing into bed, watching as the two tried to stare the other down. The smaller boy spoke first.
"You do not trust me."
A statement, not a question, but Lucius answered anyways. After all, Severus had not idea what he was saying. "I do so!" He protested, pale hands moving into fists on his hips. Severus glared back. Lucius calmed at the angry/hurt expression flickering across his shadowed face. "I do."
For a moment they were back to not moving, until Severus darted for his trunk at the end of the bed and pulled out the tiny knife again. Lucius swallowed heavily, but said nothing. He had to prove that he did, infact, trust the other boy.
Severus leaned forward, his hair curtaining parts of his face, and Lucius squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He felt the other boy's hands on his shoulders, then only one, then none. His eyes still shut, he heard a rustling of sheets and a small clank, but didn't move.
A second later, he felt something press against his forehead. Not like a knife, but something soft. And Lucius smiled. Then the pressure was gone, and he opened his eyes. Severus was curling up under his covers.
"Hey!" Lucius protested, "You didn't even *use* the knife!"
Severus shrugged and yawned, turning away from the blond boy. Lucius scowled and trudged back to his bed, murmuring to himself. It wasn't until he was lying on his back that he realized what exactly Severus had done. Without even moving his hands he could feel the change in his clothing.
His tag was gone, and his forehead was wet.
R/R Please! There will be more, and it will get better as they get older, but they're sorta eleven right now...
Lucius Malfoy stood in line impatiently, watching the boy currently sitting under the sorting hat. Remus Lupin was his name, and he was fidgeting quite a lot under the scrutiny of the oversized, overused garmet. He almost chuckled, wondering what exactly the hat was saying to the horrified boy.
Lucius yawned. He certainly hoped the ceremony would be over soon. It was a pain to stand for so long, after being on a train for hours and then rowing across a lake. Not that Lucius didn't like boats, but he wasn't accustomed to so many modes of transportation. If a Malfoy wanted to see somebody, they invited them over. If somebody wanted to see a Malfoy, they came over. A Malfoy never follows, always leads.
And he just knew he was getting into Slytherin. Why wait for the entire ceremony if you were already so damn sure??
He shifted his weight as the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" and fixed his robes. He was next.
"Malfoy, Lucius," Professor McGonagall called out. She was a middle-aged lady, maybe about forty, who had a reputation for being strict. Lucius cringed at the sound of her voice, and stepped forward with his chin held up high.
The hat considered him for maybe half a minute before making its decision and shouting, "SLYTHERIN!" Lucius smiled. Just as he'd suspected.
Ignoring the other children being sorted, he waltzed over to his table amidst the cheers and back pats from his fellow Slytherins. Anyone who was anyone had heard of the Malfoys, and were eager to make themselves known as well.
The ceremony continued, boring, as Lucius suspected, except for a tiny boy who appeared to be all black and white, his skin a rival to Lucius' own. He was sorted into Slytherin, though took no notice of the congratulations he received or the people asking him to sit near them.
Lucius hated to admit it, but he was intrigued.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Every meal went by the same from the beginning feast and onward. Lucius would be swamped by people, (for even the older girls tried to flirt with him,) and the tiny black-swathed Slytherin would sit all on his own, reading or just eating in silence. Nobody tried to approach him anymore, not even the boys from his own dorm, because he simply offered no response. But a Malfoy never gives up. They were a lot of things, but they certainly weren't quitters.
As Lucius headed to class after lunch that day, he rushed ahead of Patrick Parkinson, a boy who seemed more than desperate for Lucius' attention, and caught up with the mystery boy.
"Hey," he offered as way of conversation, but the boy said nothing, just stopped and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm Lucius," he tried again, "Lucius Malfoy." He offered his hand, which was, unsurprisingly, denied. He frowned; this was not going to be easy.
The boy continued on his way without a single word, but Lucius managed to steal a seat next to him in Transfigurations. Professor McGonagall was asking questions of the class, but Lucius payed her no mind. He was trying to remember the dark boy's name...
"Mr. Malfoy?! Are you listening to me?!"
"Huh?" Lucius' head shot up, his blue eyes meeting those of a very angry Professor. He blinked. "I am now," he said, but the lady shook her head. At the other side of the room Lucius spotted a group of Gryffindors who seemed to find his situation very amusing. They'd pay for that.
McGonagall put her hands on her hips. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. I suppose I should make an example of you, no??" She turned to face the class and address them all. Lucius frowned. He didn't like being an example.
"Detention," she said to the entire room of people, but she was only speaking to Lucius, "for not paying attention. And 3 points from Slytherin." Half the room groaned, but said nothing to protest. "See me after class, Mr. Malfoy." Lucius crossed his arms and muttered, "Yes Ma'am," before pouting into his textbook. Next to him, the black-haired boy was watching his every move.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Lucius' detention was fairly simple. Take a bucket, fill it with water from the pond, and water the four plants standing outside greenhouse two. Easy enough, but boring, and the bucket was heavy. He was on his final trip when he heard an odd sound. One he recognized from his dorm room, but he couldn't identify it.
Walking forward so as to approach the object slowly, he moved through the grass almost as silently as the light breeze, until he came to a tiny person in a black robe, huddled on a hill next to greenhouse five. He knew immediately who the person was, and the sounds coming from him.
In an effort to comfort, he moved to step forward and sit next to him, but he tripped on a stepping stone he had been trying to avoid and he went crashing into the stone in front of him, sending the bucket flying across the ground, and his face into the cement. The other boy spun around swiftly.
"What do you want?!" He demanded loudly, and it was the first time Lucius had heard his voice at all. His face was still pale, but his eyes were rather pink around the edges and he had wet lines on his face from tears. Lucius' own face was stinging as he stared, wide eyed, at the boy towering over his fallen form.
"I," Lucius started, blinking and struggling to sit up. He touched his face, and his fingers came away bloody. Wonderful, and he had such a *nice* face. "I wanted to know if you were-"
"Get out of here."
Lucius was shocked. No one except another Malfoy ever interrupted a Malfoy. But he'd let it slide. For some reason, he liked this angry boy. "But, are you sure you're o-"
"Go away!" The boy yelled, turning away and sitting down angrily on the stone. He turned only long enough to glare at Lucius, who was staring back in shock and hurt.
Silently, and much more smoothly than he had approached, Lucius rushed away to fill his bucket again. He wasn't going to let the boy get to him. Nothing ever got under a Malfoy's skin.
When he reached the lake he filled the bucket, and dipped his palms under the water's surface, cupping the dirty liquid and attempting to wash his face. It stung.
The dark boy sat and watched as Lucius ran away. Everyone knew Lucius, though Lucius couldn't possibly know everyone. He glared as his retreating form. How dare somebody sneak up on him like that! What a nerve!
But the instance replayed in his mind, how Lucius ignored his own injured face to see if he was alright, how hurt he looked when he turned him away for the second time, and the little spark of anger he thought he saw in his pale blue eyes before he grabbed his bucket and stalked off. Then he remembered his father, and how he tried to tell him about getting accepted to Hogwarts-
"Hey, Dad! Guess-"
"Go away Severus." The man answered coldly, not even looking up from his tools. But Severus was not about to give up. He had been accepted to *Hogwarts!* His father was going to be proud.
"But father, I got-"
"*GO *AWAY*, SEVERUS!*" He shouted, spinning around to reveal a very angry father, his hand held back, though he knew he wasn't about to hit him. He'd have to put his book down. Then Severus turned on his heel and retreated.
It just isn't right to treat people like that. So reluctantly he stood and ran after the blond, who was rapidly disappearing before him. Stopping at the greenhouse, he grabbed a clean rag from one of the boxes and hurried down to the lake. Lucius was rubbing his face and whimpering.
Suddenly, the blond froze and stared at the lake. Staring back at him was the same face that sent him away. He turned around and looked up at the boy, whose stare was almost penetrating.
"You will need a rag, to clean that." He said simply and continued to stare. Lucius nodded.
"Once I'm done here, I'm going to get cleaned up." He lifted the bucket one more time, the metal handle digging into his soft palms, as he trudged back to the school.
He quickly watered the last plant and placed the bucket on the ground next to them. One quick glance in the direction he came and he knew the dark- haired boy was gone. He sighed and made his way to the Entrance Hall.
As he rounded the corned where the doors stood, he came face-to-face with the large, dark eyes of the other boy. He didn't move, but blinked. Lucius couldn't help but smile. So he *had* waited for him.
.........................
Back in the dorm room Lucius sat on his bed, his feet dangling lazily off one side, the top of one foot underneath his other. The dark boy was rummaging through his trunk, and picked out a green bottle with a purple cork. Not too attractive, but it looked safe.
He poured some of the liquid on the rag and slowly approached Lucius' face, and the lighter boy didn't even realize he had been flinching away until the rag came in contact with his cheek.
Now *THIS* stung.
He hissed and squirmed away from the rag, fighting the urge to rub his abraised cheek. The other boy said nothing, just watched him for a moment before applying the cloth to his face again. It hurt less this time, and even less the time after, until the small boy moved away and took out another contained of what appeared to be a jar of pinkish jelly.
He wiped the unused part of the rag in the center, and walked back over to Lucius. This time there was no pain, only the creamy feel of the jelly. The boy stared a moment, before nodding and washing off the rag. Lucius crawled to the head of his bed and picked up his bedside mirror. Besides the remnants of the salve, his face was back to normal. He was pretty again.
Severus brought the rag back over, letting Lucius wash his own face, and then inspected him once more. For a moment, Lucius stared at those black eyes, while the other admired his own handiwork. Then, the dark boy's face turned up in what was a rather attractive, though rather meager, smirk.
"Done," he said with finality, as Parkinson entered the room. The intruder looked at Lucius and smiled. "Wanna come to dinner??" he offered, still smiling. Lucius nodded and looked over at his new companion.
Parkinson shifted uneasily. "Er," he started, "You wanna come to, Severus??"
Lucius nearly began jumping up and down. *Now* he remembered his name. The Severus boy nodded as well and they all went down to dinner together, where for the first time since the beginning of the year fest, Severus did not sit alone.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
It was two weeks before Christmas, and Lucius was hating the cold. His new pajamas (for everything he owned was new) were warm and comfortable, except for one thing. One *very* annoying thing. For possibly the fifth time since he put his shirt on, he clawed at the back of his own neck and attempted to tear off the cloth tag. It wouldn't budge. From the bed next to his, Severus was watching with one of his patented half-smirks.
Without a word, the dark-haired boy moved to his trunk as Lucius struggled, and emerged with something in his hand. He pulled Lucius' own hands away from his neck, and that's when he saw something silver reflecting the evening light. Severus had a knife.
Immediately Lucius moved away, scared more of the knife than the person yielding it, and let out a panicked, "What are you *doing?!*"
Severus frowned, and without a word, slipped back to his side of the room, threw the penknife into his trunk angrily, slammed the lid shut with more force than was neccessary, and climbed into his bed, pulling the green curtains shut with one loud swish.
Lucius blinked. What was that all about?
For a moment he stared at the closed curtains, cutting him off from his (as he thought) new friend. He whipped his feet off his bed and made across the cold, stone floor until he arrived at Severus' bed, where he angrily yanked the curtains open.
Severus was sitting on his knees, his eyes already perfectly level with Lucius' own, as if he knew the blond was coming over.
"What was that all about?" Lucius demanded, his brows pulled tightly together. Severus glared, and Lucius acknowledged that no eleven year old boy had any right to look so frightening. "Well??"
Severus stared back, not moving or speaking, and blinking less often than a cat. But Malfoys do not back down, and Lucius could stand there until the other boy fell asleep.
Ten minutes passed, and all the other dormmates were climbing into bed, watching as the two tried to stare the other down. The smaller boy spoke first.
"You do not trust me."
A statement, not a question, but Lucius answered anyways. After all, Severus had not idea what he was saying. "I do so!" He protested, pale hands moving into fists on his hips. Severus glared back. Lucius calmed at the angry/hurt expression flickering across his shadowed face. "I do."
For a moment they were back to not moving, until Severus darted for his trunk at the end of the bed and pulled out the tiny knife again. Lucius swallowed heavily, but said nothing. He had to prove that he did, infact, trust the other boy.
Severus leaned forward, his hair curtaining parts of his face, and Lucius squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He felt the other boy's hands on his shoulders, then only one, then none. His eyes still shut, he heard a rustling of sheets and a small clank, but didn't move.
A second later, he felt something press against his forehead. Not like a knife, but something soft. And Lucius smiled. Then the pressure was gone, and he opened his eyes. Severus was curling up under his covers.
"Hey!" Lucius protested, "You didn't even *use* the knife!"
Severus shrugged and yawned, turning away from the blond boy. Lucius scowled and trudged back to his bed, murmuring to himself. It wasn't until he was lying on his back that he realized what exactly Severus had done. Without even moving his hands he could feel the change in his clothing.
His tag was gone, and his forehead was wet.
R/R Please! There will be more, and it will get better as they get older, but they're sorta eleven right now...