Experimentation, it must be.
My bad boy hates following the crowd, and surely homosexuality would be the ultimate rebellion, the creme de la creme of abnormality. When I think about it, I am almost surprised it took him this long to romance a ... male..., as such an indiscretion would surely be the route to being fully disowned by his heritage, as he so desperately desires.
To choose such an unworthy creature as the devil displays his impulsive nature in full. For who would willingly elect to romance such a disgraceful individual without impulsive nature and spur of the moment decisions playing a part? The devil is permanently within touching distance of my bad boy, tempting him into rebellion with his devilishly large eyes and sinful lips, ensuring that, were my bad boy to wish for a male to sin with, he would be the first port of call.
However, I did not judge my bad boy for one indiscretion; no matter how large a mistake he makes, I thought him no fool. For a fool makes the same mistake twice, whilst an intellect recognises his error and rectifies his behaviour. Any my bad boy would rectify his behaviour, I did not doubt that. For he lives and breathes for the females of the species; he cannot survive forever without a woman's delicate touch. And soon, yes, soon, he shall seek solace in female arms once more.
Yes, I was undeterred by his slight diversion from his path towards me; the devil is a distraction I had not thought I would need to deal with, but should last no longer than my bad boy's usual dalliances. He would tire of the novelty sooner rather than later, and then my bad boy will be free once more.
So once more, I began my wait. Once more, I prayed to see my bad boy in the arms of a woman, carefully contained in their angelic hold. My certainty that his next partner would be of the female variety made it all the more painful when he walked down the stairs, eyes glued to the devil with the desperation of a puppy. The pair entered the common room early, the afternoon sun glowing over the grounds when I saw them, arms brushing as they headed to a secluded corner of the common room, bidding goodbye to their compatriots - that Potter boy and the other one headed out of the common room, no doubt to the kitchens to fulfil the other one's no doubt ravished stomach.
I sneak quietly to the entrance of the secluded zone the pair have chosen, a small turret in the north corner of the common room. A silent sob escapes me as I view the intimacy with which they hold one another, how my bad boy's eyes light up as the devil laughs. And when they start kissing, my eyes burn, unable to look away as the devil nips my bad boy's lips lightly, running a soft tongue over the tender area as their mouths entwine, my bad boy rocking forward with a moan so he almost straddles the devil. Strong, sinful arms encase him, holding him firm against the demonic chest in front of him as they continue their tryst. However, when my bad boy reaches for the devil's belt, bile rises too heavily in my throat, and I rip my eyes from the pair with haste, unwilling to continue watching as my bad boy makes another man writhe and moan as he does his women.
A moan escapes the turret and I jump, scrambling to my feet and out the common room with extraordinary pace. Unwilling and unable to stop, I head for the castle doors, desiring the fresh air to clear my mind and purify my thoughts.
My feet lead me unhappily around the castle grounds, time lapsing unnoticed as I lament the relationship between my bad boy and the devil. My hands wring knots as I think of them together, stomach twisting uncomfortably as I recognise the familiarity behind their movements. How long have they been dancing together? How long have they swayed to their own rhythm? My heart stops once more as I remember my bad boy's last encounter with a woman; the devil's interruption had my bad boy scampering, was it then that they started doing more than just sleeping in the same room?
My mind flies away as I think of the times they are together; the amount of time my bad boy has taken to staying in his dorm; the casual, amorous looks that pass between the pair. So tortured am I by the images floating through my mind that I fail to notice the warmth of the castle's entrance as the stone walls contain me, nor the increase in noise as I enter one of the busier corridors in the castle.
It is only when I am knocked from my feet by a firm object that I take notice.
"Oh, Molly, I'm so sorry." I hear before my eyes have a chance to adjust, feeling a hand lift me to my feet easily. "Are you okay? My fault completely, I wasn't looking where I was going." Dulcet tones ask, as my heart sinks in recognition. In my haste, I must have run into the one demon I did not wish to see. My head drops submissively, but as my eyes focus I spot that I am not only staring at one pair of polished shoes, but two, with the second pair looking remarkably like those of -
"Yeah, yeah, the girl's fine Rem, come on, lets get off." My head snaps up, eyes turning to saucers as he speaks. Even the english language is charmed by him, allowing its words to lilt off his tongue with natural grace. My bad boy. Their hands entwine briefly, fingertips tracing palms for the slightest of seconds that would be lost to the casual observer, but oh, I see now.
How he has charmed my bad boy! How his frightening, golden eyes have trapped my darling's lost soul, how his long limbs have snared my bad boy, blinding him to the true beauty in the world! Oh, if I could only show my bad boy reality, let my bad boy see how easily he is being conned by the devil. But I can only stare, witness to the horror that is unfolding right before me.
The devil waits patiently for my answer as I remain frozen, watching my bad boy tug his arm hopefully in his desired direction. My eyes return to the devils and he flinches slightly, shocked by the intensity of my gaze I suppose. I watch as he allows my bad boy to tug him away, eyes not leaving mine until the last possible second, when he turns to resume his walk.
Before my mind can understand their path, my feet begin to follow the trail left in the wake of the two boys, quietly tracing the pair from a distance. Occasionally, the demon seems to recognise there's something afoot, looking over his shoulder with a sneering, worried glance. But whilst he is observant, I am cunning, and the busy corridors of Hogwarts lend themselves nicely to becoming unnoticeable.
They reach the common room, and we pause. I look away as they lean in quickly, eyes alert for any intruders to their quiet time, but once again they do not see my hidden form. Sirius retreats into the common room, and almost every fibre in my body begs me to follow, to go and sit in my hidden corner and observe my bad boy.
But the opportunity to observe the man who's captured his interest is too good to let it pass by. What was it about this handsome devil that separated him from every other passably attractive man on the premises? What was it that made my bad boy turn away from women for him?
My footsteps trace the path he leaves as we rejoin the busy corridors, bobbing through the crowd as we head for his destination. He slides into a door, and I find myself unsurprised when I read the 'library' sign adorning the frame. By the time I enter, he has disappeared into the tall shelves, and I curse quietly.
Slinking between the shelves, I search the tables, until I eventually find my target. Remaining behind the bookshelf, I peer between dusty volumes, watching him quietly. He sits calmly in one of the artifacts rooms, where vases, cups and statues adorn the plush walls. He quickly slides a novel out of his satchel as he settles down to read, lips curled upwards slightly into a satanic smile. I had never imagined my bad boy would be so interested in such an introvert intellect, whose idea of free time involves sitting in the library. This man, this demonic soul in front of me, antithesises everything my bad boy is, everything my bad boy should be.
How long we remain like this, I do not know. Time passes rapidly as I glare at his steady form, which droops lower and lower with the setting sun. Before long, I realise he has fallen into a slumber, drawn into his dreams by the glowing candlelight and sweet silence that surrounds him. Taking my chance, I step from behind the bookcase, approaching him slowly, as one might approach a sleeping bear. Staring at his form, I frown once more. How did my bad boy fall for someone so weak? Someone with so little character, with so little personal strength? This devil is undeserving. He does not appreciate how blessed he truly is.
Suddenly, he begins to stir. My eyes turn to saucers as he takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering as I remain static behind him. Frozen in fear, I watch him begin to awake, head rising slowly from the oak table as he rubs his eyes tiredly with large, worn hands. My heart stops as he pinches the bridge of his nose lightly, and at my panicked exhalation he begins to turn, startled by the noise.
Before I can register my movements, I spring into action, grabbing a vase from behind me and bringing it round rapidly. It crumbles satisfyingly as it hits the devils head before I am in his line of sight, stoneware clinking against the floor as his eyes roll back rapidly, head resuming its position on the table almost immediately. I peer round to look at his face desperately, grimacing slightly as I spot the bleeding near his temple.
Oh tiddlywinks.