Okay sweeties,
this story does contain mild slash!!! So if you feel offended by the thought of Sirius falling in
love with someone who is not polishing his nails or Severus lusting someone who
never in his life thought about shaving his armpits, try to find yourself
another story, ok?
…This is for all the
wonderful persons who want to imagine the impossible and dream the undreamable…
This Chapter is dedicated to Zarya and Raven for beta-ing and for being
the way they are as well as to Jessie just because…
-Chapter 02-
~~~(Severus' POV):
What would
happen if I just walked over to him and told him about the feelings he awoke in
me? What if I just confessed to loving him? He would crush me probably, scratch
my eyes out and leave me there to bleed those feelings out of my mind. Not such
a bad idea actually. Maybe that would work. I smile, noticing the irony
of the situation I am in. Hating him had been so easy - hate always is. All I
had had to do was blame him for everything, for all the misery in the world,
but most of all for my own despair. Now I realize that my despair is still
there, although he did not purposely evoke it. He is the reason for all this
and still I cannot blame him anymore. Those feelings are mine, I feel them and
I am the one who has to suffer for the mistake of feeling the "wrong" way.
Taking responsibilities is always hard. Well, living with mistakes is something
I have learned in my life.
I always
considered my father a weak man. I know I am not doing him right, he is one of
the most powerful wizards alive, but nevertheless he is a weak man. My mother,
god bless her, used to say that pride and honour were what we lived to defend.
And I always believed her, taking every word she said for the truth. At school
she had been a Slytherin - like me - but unlike my father who had been a
Gryffindor. Like Sirius, as I notice. Now, as I begin to realize that
Gryffindors can't possibly be all that bad, I am also beginning to think about
changing my view on my father. Suddenly, I am beginning to see him in an
absolutely new light. He never tried to teach me to defend my pride, never
proceeded teaching me the curses my mother had started to teach me before she
died. My mom had always wanted to make me fight and win every time I got
challenged. And when she died and I had to live with my father (whom she had
divorced some years before), that training stopped. I thought it was weak of
that old man to keep his son from the honour of fighting, to stop me from
getting stronger.
He was so
different from that sinister dark woman I had always looked up to. He wanted me
to read, to learn and to find friends, which I had never learned to do before.
Living with him was so different than living with my mother had been. I never
really accepted him as a stand-in for my mother for he could have never
replaced her.
I never
really understood why he never wanted to replace her, not even now that I am
beginning to understand his motives.
He never
wanted me to fight. Thinking about that fact now, reconsidering the whole
subject of my father, I see that he didn't want me to be weak as I always
thought. Instead, he wanted me to stay away from fights until I had grown
intelligent and rational enough to know when to fight and when to talk. I never
learned that and I think that, had I listened to him earlier, I wouldn't have
such a hard time trying to figure out what to do now. I silently curse myself
for having been so immature, while turning around a corner to walk back to the
cold dungeons that will feel more lonely to me than ever.
Suddenly I
feel someone's knee painfully colliding with the sensitive part between my
legs. Shortly after that, my back hits the ground and the air is pressed out of
my lungs as the rest of the unseen attacker falls onto me.
~~***~~
"Oh geez" I
curse, looking at my watch and realizing that I have barely five minutes to run
up to the Gryffindor tower, get my books and rush down into the dungeons for
potions class. Potions with the Slytherins, as a little voice deep in my mind
whispers. How am I supposed to survive that class? For a second I think about
the option of skipping that class, but I turn it down. I pull pranks and break
rules, but skipping classes would have made me one of those lazy foul students
whom I had never wanted to be. My
grades have always been good despite my reputation, and I want it to stay that
way.
I start
running, for Professor Moristus Psychlophode is probably the most severe
professor under the sun and my turning his cauldron into a miniature black hole
during potions last Wednesday somehow tried his patience. To make it short: he
dislikes me and displeasing him any more is not something I long for. I reach
the Gryffindor tower in less than a minute, it seems, and breathing hard, I
pick up my books and run down the stairs, heading for the dungeons. I am going
to see Severus in a short time. Turning around a corner I speed up even more,
trying to suppress a smile that wants to burn itself into my face and I close my
eyes for a short second, enjoying the image of his face dancing in front of my
eyes.
BOOM!
Before I am
able to open my eyes again, I feel my body crashing into someone and throwing
him to the ground hard. In shock I pull my eyes open, my sight strangely, not
changing the least bit. But the person whose body is pressed up against mine,
now seems to boil in anger and pain. This is not what the whole body against
body thing had been like in my dreams as I realize.
Not at all.
My mind
tells me to get up, but my body is not following that voice. He is opening his
mouth, which I am inflamed to kiss.
"Get away
from me, you stupid git!!! Get away-" I do not even hesitate before pressing my
lips against his, stopping him from saying anything else. At first I feel
him falter, obviously not knowing what
to do. I feel my security fade away, but still cannot gather the strength to
pull away from him. This feels like the only way to kiss. The only way to be.
He still doesn't respond, still doesn't do anything except lie there, his whole
body pressed against mine, not an inch of space between the two of us and yet
no movement. I don't want to, but I pull away in order to catch my breath and
to blush furiously, having done something that could change my life totally. I
don't dare to look into his eyes, placing my forehead onto the ground next to
his head. I don't want to imagine what is to happen next. He is going to get me
expelled, telling his father about this. His father. The only person who had
ever treated me like a father would treat a son, the way my father had never
treated me, would hate me. What have I done? I ask myself. And most of all: Why
have I done it?
I feel him
moving under me, reminding me of how close we are to each other. I almost
expect him to punch me, to shout at me, maybe even to call for help, but he
only pulls his hand away from under my stomach.
He is
patting my hair! For a short moment I feel his lips brushing my cheek I am
still unable to move, not being able to fight back the voice that is telling me
that I am dreaming and nothing like this is really happening. His cold breath
on my cheek makes me shudder before I hear him whisper: "We really should get
out of this hallway, shouldn't we?" Never in my life had such a simple sentence
sounded that seductive, I think, nodding slowly.
~~***~~
Petrified.
That is the word I'd choose to describe my feelings during that particular
moment. When he kissed me in that corridor, stopping me from insulting him even
further with my stupid, irrational, uncontrolled… instinctive… reaction. I
hadn't been able to move any part of my body, while I desired nothing more than
touching him, feeling his body under my fingers and his lips on mine. Being so
close to him was like finally catching breath after having spent hours and
hours under water, like seeing the sun after having been buried under earth for
years. And that new found life had been enough for my inexperienced dead body.
When he stopped his lips from warming mine, my heart skipped a beat. I had
missed the chance of my life, the chance to make him feel that I desired him as
much as he desired me. Desired me. I shyly started stroking his hair,
content to be able to touch him, and dared to say something I had never in my
lifetime expected to hear my voice telling a male.
Now,
opening the door to the old, unused classroom, I feel my hands starting to
shake as I enter the dark and dusty room. Obviously nobody has passed that door
for years, maybe decades, since spider webs cover the corners and the desks are
protected by sheets that once were white. Looking at those sheets I long to
feel like them. I want Sirius, who has been walking behind me into this room,
to wrap his arms around my skinny body like the sheets wrap themselves around
the desks. I want him to share his warmth and security with me, and I want to
comfort him. But hearing him shut the door behind us, I don't dare to turn
around to face him. On the hallway floor everything had seemed to be so easy,
we had already been too close to each other to pretend nothing had happened,
but now, since our bodies are separated again, our lips not touching anymore,
that contact is broken. I feel rather than hear him approaching behind me,
staring at my back, his eyes seemingly leaving hot traces on the back of my
head.
"Please
turn around and talk to me!" I hear his soft voice say. He sounds as calm as
humanly possible, while my mind doesn't stop its race for a single second. How
in the world can he stay that severe after what has just happened?
I do not
turn around. Somehow the wall I am facing seems to be of high interest to me, I
notice that it needs a new painting. Maybe I will contact father about it
tomorrow. Maybe I'll even paint it myself, since- Oh man, Sirius, that feels
good! His hands run down my back, leaving a trace of fiery shudders. One of
his hands wraps itself around my waist, finally pulling me close to him. I can
feel his warmth heating up my cold body, starting to heal the wounds that bleed
in my heart. How have I been able to ignore that feeling for the last years,
I think, hesitantly turning around to face him. I feel his lips brushing my
hair, my temple and then my cheek, proving how close he is to me. His shudders
secure me while I run my hands up his chest to wrap my arms around his neck. I
bury my face in his hair, breathing in his scent, the scent that reminds me of
how life feels, reminds me to breathe, reminds me to live. I slowly pull away
from the boy, leaving just inches between our faces, and regarding his eyes
that show no sign of nervousness, this seems to be so familiar to him. He
has done this so many times before I think, so many of those girls have
held him like this. I am not unusual to him, he probably realizes how
inexperienced I am, probably he is secretly laughing deep inside of his mind.
This is the
first time I am as close to someone as this. The first time I have feelings
like these, the desire to hold someone as much as I desire holding him. Slowly,
painfully slowly I pull his head down to me, longing for the taste of his lips
on mine. But before our lips touch, not even being an inch away from each other
anymore, I hesitate, seeing the expression in his eyes change from passion into
something else. It looks like rage, like anger, like a reminder of that old
hatred he used to feel towards me for a so long time. Hatred that he might
still feel. How can I have been stupid enough to believe that he has changed
his mind as fast as I changed mine?
My thoughts
are interrupted though as he presses his lips against mine, taking from me
every little bit of self-control and hesitance that had kept me away from him.
I pull him even closer, returning his kiss with all the passion I have left in
my cold heart, feeling myself grow out of that coldness. Feeling his tongue
running over my lips I open my mouth, instinctively deepening the kiss that now
turns into something I have definitely never experienced before. Skilfully he
plays with my tongue, while his hands start opening my robes. Attempting to do
the same thing to him, I run my hands down his chest, but being not even half
as experienced as he is, my shaking hands don't get anything done. I feel him
smile against my mouth, obviously noticing my insecurity, and making me blush
into dark shades of red and giving me the will to bury myself into the earth I
am right now standing on. But his hands, after having removed my robes, start
working on my shirt, make me forget my shyness, forget my blushed face and my
shame and I shakily start unbuttoning his robes to make my way to his bare
chest. As I feel his hands reaching my skin, I hold my breath, feeling things
running out of my control. His kisses become even more passionate, although I
wouldn't have thought that to be possible, as he, obviously knowing exactly
what he is doing, gets me out of my shirt within seconds.
~~***~~
Why isn't
he looking at me? I can't stand this tension, can't stand not being able to
breathe while the air keeps getting thicker, keeping us apart from each other
while time seems to have come to an absolute standstill. The way in here had
seemed so easy. Maybe too easy. He had asked me to come in here with him, after
not having responded to my kiss. Maybe this was his way of taking revenge on me
for having treated him so cruelly during all those years. I almost expect him
to turn around, pulling his wand every second. But it is too late to go back
now, too late to change anything, since I have already given him an official
reason for getting me expelled.
I shrug.
Actually, since I already am in this situation, I might as well go even
further. This is just like pulling a prank, just like placing ghost wards in
front of Professor Binns' classroom door.
"Please
turn around and talk to me!" I demand, trying to consider this some sort of a
game, since keeping something away from me has always been the best way to make
me want it even more. He is not going to play with me like this, not going to
deny what he has offered. I slowly step behind him, literally fighting against
the material air that still divides us. Running my hands down his back, I feel
him shudder as I reach the small of his back. He isn't playing with me, I am
sure about that now and as I pull him close to me, his hair brushing the soft
skin of my lips I feel the need to taste his skin, to finally feel him
responding to my actions. He shifts a little and then turns around, looking at
me with those deep black and somehow innocent eyes. As I kiss my way to his
lips, his icy skin seems to warm up under my lips, giving me the impression of
having activated something deep inside of him, something that has slept for a
long time. I feel him tense under my grasp and slowly he starts running his
hands over my chest. The tickle that has rested deep inside of my heart for the
longest time starts hurting, making me realize how much I actually long for his
kiss. His head is now resting close to my neck around which his hands are
wrapped. He slowly lifts his face away from my shoulder to look into my eyes,
his gaze lighting something deep inside of my heart. The fire I had been trying
to ignore for the last years starts burning my lungs, showing how much he is
the breath I am taking, the air I need to survive. The longing I feel for the
taste of his lips, becomes a burning storm as I see his face slowly coming
closer. Looking into those deep black eyes I see nothing but a lonely boy with
hurt feelings and a burning desire for someone he hasn't ever thought of to
hold. I ask myself how I could have ever been able to treat him as badly and
disrespectfully as I used to.
I feel so
weak, having given in to James, having followed him where I never had wanted to
go. I had just loved him too much to understand how he had been using me. I am
mad at him still, for having left me alone, but right now I am most of all mad
at myself for not having possessed the strength to stand up for my own feelings
earlier. Maybe the boy in front of me, the boy I have all those forbidden
feelings for, would not have that sadness written in his eyes had I only been
stronger. I see him hesitate. He doesn't want to stop now, does he? He is
searching my eyes for something. Judging by the expression he wears on his
face, it is nothing I want him to find in them. He seems to have doubts. Doubts.
Despair floods my body. He changed his mind. He doesn't want me the way I
want him. And: He is going to tell his father about all this.
Without further thoughts I lean forward and kiss him.
The passion
with which he returns my kiss is overwhelming. I have experienced passion
before as well as physical love, but I must admit that nothing I have ever
experienced had been comparable to this.
I play with
his tongue, but unlike the girls I have kissed before, his response seems
so…perfect. As if this was the first time I really understand what a kiss should
feel like. The first time kissing makes me shudder, makes me not only want
something particular, but want to hold him forever. Unlike the kisses I have
shared with girls before, this one is not going to be all about making love
later on. It feels like this is going to be about love itself.
~~***~~
Yay!!! I
ended the chapter without a single NC-17-scene!!!! Do you want to read a third
chapter? Then go ahead and tell me so…