DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, places or events. Any resemblance to real, living or dead, people is purely coincidental. The parties' names have been changed to preserve their innocence. *dundadundun* *dundadundunduuun*
DEDICATION: As always, to Kelly, for helping me so much she should be listed as a co-author. And I promise not to *kill* Jason-Dahling.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally got around to updating. I really don't want to know how long this fic's been neglected. No more song lyrics, very sad. Now, for a switch of perspective to clear up some issues and to give deserved attention to Snape. ^___^
****
Scratch, scratch, scratch. The disgruntled Potion Master cracked open one eye to peer out at the dismal room. Where was that coming from? Scratch, scratch. That blasted scratching had kept him up until an ungodly hour and he was going to find out what the hell it was! Throwing back the sable sheets, Snape narrowed his eyes and listened very intently for the next bout of scratching…
Scratch, scratch. Turning his head, quick as lightening, Severus leaped from his bed to realize that he had no idea from where it was coming from. Or from what, for that matter. Upon moving into the dungeons he had been certain to exterminate every sort of vermin there was to be had in the dank dungeons in order to keep his precious potions in pristine condition.
SCRATCH. It was mocking him, he knew that it was. Filthy thing. The professor went as far to consider that it was some pesky student striking out in vengeance for a particularly nasty assignment. Well, fine, he wouldn't let them get the best of him. He needed to work anyway. Yes, that was it. They were really doing him a service, keeping him up all night. Yes… That was exactly what they were doing…
Settling into the chair turned into his imposingly sharp-edged desk, Snape readied his materials for a long night of evaluation. Fourth-year essays. Quite possibly God's punishment for anyone stupid enough to stray from the path of righteousness to the path of education. They had been through enough lectures for them to believe that they truly had novel, inventive ideas, when in actuality, they were groping so hard for thesis's that they had probably come full circle, back to their first-year papers, except with a larger vocabulary.
But, he never actually *read* the papers, just skimmed them for particularly weak sentences and extremely obvious mistakes. That is, except when he was angry and covered the entire parchment with thick, red ink. Luckily for the fourth-years, he was too tired to do either and simply gave the majority of them mediocre grades. Snape's mind was on other things… Things like Lucius Malfoy's sudden personality augmentation. Why was he suddenly being so kind, so thoughtful, practically spouting love sonnets whenever they were together? True, he'd been a bit more elusive on this visit, but he had given Severus his full attention. It was highly suspicious and highly welcome at the same time.
'There is nothing in this world that can touch you if you know that someone loves you. You live for that person, because you know that your end would mean their end. It works like that for everyone. But there are a few who see loving in the same light. If you love someone, you will live for them. I live for you, Severus. I have always lived for you…' He recalled the words with some debate, knowing that if he thought too much on them, he would find himself falling for the man. Love was not something that Snape could allow himself to have. He neither wanted nor deserved it. And being in love with a Malfoy had never brought anyone any good. You were pulled in too quickly, too far, into those metallic, electric, passionate eyes and once they had enraptured you, there was no escaping them. The whole family was unnaturally good-looking; the women were pale, delicate creatures that filled you with thoughts of frosty springs, white roses and butterfly kisses, while the men were a congregation of unearthly beauties, in their midst you were sure to discover a Ganymede or Adonis at the very least. And Lucius was fit to rule them all. Feathery features, soft lips, cold stares and perfectly flaxen hair. He was made up of silk and steel and ice blended together by the precise fingers of some preternatural painter. Lucius Malfoy, the living work of art.
Pulling himself from his reverie, nay his worship, Snape ran his hands over his eyes. He was not one to heap praise on an individual and when was the last time he had become so consumed by thoughts of Lucius? Years and years, perhaps. Or had it been yesterday?
****
Fingers. Thousands of fingers reaching out to him. Wanting to catch him, wanting to hold him, to save him from an unseen foe that he himself hadn't realized had been gaining on him. Snowy skin, lightening hair, mercury eyes, pooling around him, embracing him. Fractured thoughts. Ten more fingers. Touching, rubbing, caressing, sparking emotions that had been deadened for forever. Velvet rubbed against his skin, the cloth of a coat, or was that perhaps Lucius' very skin? Soak it up, hold it in, revel in this, Severus, for it is a dream and you will awaken soon. Sooner than you would hope to. And The Sandman is not a welcome visitor at your door.
****
He awoke in a cold sweat, feeling a telltale sticky substance high on his leg. Good Lord, he hadn't had a dream like that in such a long time. And about Lucius… But maybe he was making this seem more dire and horrible than it actually was. Snape had felt for the other man for quite a while, why, he had been the one to begin this… Relationship of sorts… So maybe the love of a Malfoy was something akin to Heaven, and not the Hell he had made it out to be.
When had they first began their meetings? Two, maybe three years ago. The exact date refused to be pinned down in his mind. Though one thing he was quite sure of was that it had been winter and one of the coldest that he could remember for that matter…
****
"Severus? I hadn't expected to see you here. You should tell me when you mean to come up out of that pit you call a home, I'd quite like to catch up," the Governor chortled, pulling on his black velvet gloves.
Glaring over at Lucius, Snape let out a slight hiss of a sigh, noting with some distaste that it turned to steam before his eyes. Bloody freezing winters… "I hadn't planned on coming into town, let alone seeing you, forgive the discourtesy," Severus answered, his tone bitter. "I thought you didn't care for Hogsmeade, too many half-bloods."
"Mmm. It's true of course, the village is quaint. And if there's anything I can't stand, it's quaintness," he sneered, "But seeing you is a welcome interruption. You see, I'm to attend a board meeting tonight and I arrived early for once. They are starting to notice my liking for fashionably late entrances. So, I am stranded here in this sea of yuletide cheer and quaintness, looking for anything that meets my standards of fashion."
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to keep searching," Snape stated quickly, trying to sweep past Lucius when a lanky arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Come now, Severus. We're old friends-"
"I have never been more to you than a casual acquaintance," the professor amended hastily.
"School time friends, comrades, now co-workers. Join me for a drink, Severus. I'm sure we have much to catch up on."
Frowning exaggeratedly, Snape bore a venomous glare into the snow. "Uhn."
"Excellent, now let's hurry. At tonight's meeting, I'm going to try a fashionably early approach."
****
"I hear you've become a teacher," Lucius commented, fiddling with the handle of his glass of Firewater.
"I have been a teacher for six years, so glad you noticed."
"Oh. Well then, you must be very well adjusted. Anything else new?"
"Nothing that would interest you," Snape snapped, keeping his hands folded in front of him where his glass would have gone. Noting the absence of Severus' drink, Lucius smiled.
"Where's your drink? Tell me you drink. Please. I don't think I could bear talking to someone who doesn't drink."
"I'd…Rather not," the dark-haired man insisted weakly.
"Nonsense! Miss, get my friend a drink! Anything so long as it has alcohol in it!" Malfoy laughed, grinning over at Snape. At least he was in a good mood… Perhaps his presence would be tolerable. After all, at least he could talk enough for the both of him and wasn't frighteningly dull. He wasn't horrible to look at either, in fact- Blinking out of his current train of though, the Potions Master deepened his sour expression and kept his gaze firmly locked on the table before him.
"Severus? Severus? Your drink is here. Severus!" he shouted, his eyes narrowed and his fist clenched. No Malfoy took well to being ignored. Snapping his head up much too soon, his eyes met with the other man's and instinctively, Snape reached for the glass and downed its contents in a single swallow.
"There, I knew you drank. Never met a Slytherin that didn't drink. Leave abstinence to the Hufflepuffs, I always say," the blonde chuckled, already a little tipsy.
"Lestrange never drank," Snape countered, a little worried when the glass refilled itself. He had never retained alcohol well.
"Fuck Lestrange then!"
"Parkinson never did either."
"Oh, fuck you!"
Twitching involuntarily, the professor finished another shot. Don't think about that. Don't think about Lucius. Or fucking. Don't think of them together. Now don't throw yourself in there as well. Don't think about- Dammit.
"I thought you'd never ask," came Snape's dismal reply. Lucius rewarded the remark with a rich laugh. Bloody Hell, even his voice had to be sensual. That man should really have come with a warning label.
"Later, My Pet, later," Lucius snickered, clapping Severus firmly on the back and attempting to stand upright. He faired better than Snape imagined many would in this situation, but still, that wasn't saying much. How many drinks had he had? The Potions Master himself had drank… Four? Five? "And now we return to the castle, where I will overthrow that old coot and lock all of the Mudbloods in the dungeon and let you do what you will with them! What a pair we'd make, ruling that old edifice with a velvet fist in an iron glove! Or… An iron fist in a velvet glove!" the Governor announced, leaning on Snape for support.
"You certainly are a happy drunk," the professor muttered, managing to steer them out of the tavern and in the general direction of Hogwarts.
****
"Come sit on the bed, Severus. You make me nervous with all that stalking and looming you're doing," Lucius commanded, patting the bedding beside him. "This room is positively hideous. If you had an ounce of style you'd get over this… Basic black obsession. You're as bad as one of those Muggle teenagers."
"Shut up. I'm sure you have plans for my room already…" he grunted before sweeping over to the bed and perching on the edge of it.
"Oh yes, a thousand times yes! I could make it fit for a king, but of course taste would be lost on you. Anything that looks different in the light than it does in pitch-black darkness would be lost on you, Dear Severus."
Keeping quiet, the Potions Master glanced over at the blonde man, currently stretched out across his bed and removing his over-robe to reveal an exquisite velvet piece beneath it the color of red wine. He drank in the fabric, savoring the giddy feeling that it gave him that was almost as powerful as the real thing. Inching closer to the burgundy-wrapped body, Snape felt his fingers begin to tremble. It had been so long since he had felt like this, so very long…
"Severus? You look awfully drunk. You look as drunk as I feel," Lucius commented, shrugging comically. "Perhaps not going at all will be fashionable as well."
"You're not going to the meeting? Then what are you filling your evening with?" He thanked God that his voice had been level and completely and utterly ill-suited to his current state.
"You, I suppose. You should feel properly privileged that I would spend an entire evening with an old acquaintance…"
"Friend."
"Oh? So you're my friend now are you?" he asked, opening his gray-blue eyes to finally look directly at Severus. "I'd say by that look in your eyes that you'd like to be something more."
"I… I…"
"Silly little Severus. Always figured you for a fag. But I wondered about it quite a bit back when we were students. I'd lay awake and think, 'I wonder what he'd do if I kissed him. I wonder what he'd do if I said that I liked him.' Just thoughts, never did care for you. Not much to look at, if I may be so blunt. And as a child, anything that didn't sparkle wasn't worth my time. I suppose I haven't changed much in that sense. You're still not pleasant to look at, mind you, but I think other things have topped the aesthetic on my list of priorities and all I can say is that you've sobered me up rather quickly. Come here, Severus," Lucius crooned, his eyes deliciously half-lidded in a come-hither stare.
Obeying Malfoy's command, Snape slunk over to the other man, a little confused by his admonition. How could he be so sure of himself all of the time?
"Closer, Severus, I want to give you what you want to receive."
A little cautious and always one to be shrewd, the Potions Master took his sweet time approaching Lucius, finally resting his head on the blonde's shoulder. "As I said, other things are more important to me now, Severus, I've matured, as have my tastes. Glitter will catch any man's eye, but dust has its own appeal, Severus. I need your intelligence. Your talent. And above all," the man whispered into Snape's ear, his warm breath catching in the shell, "Your power."
And ever so slowly, Lucius' luscious tongue escaped from the trappings of his mouth and gently grazed Severus' ear. And it was then that he realized that the love of a Malfoy could be a dangerously addictive thing.
****
Tapping his quill against the desk, Snape tried to turn his attention back to the essays before him, but it kept stealing away to thoughts of a more pleasant nature. It had become a regular thing from that moment on, Lucius visiting his rooms whenever he had a meeting or was in the area. Snape had a feeling that his partner's only reasons for returning was to bind the Potions Master to himself, ensnaring him in a web of seduction and allure that would rocket him up the lattice work of the Dark Lord's favor. Why, by keeping Snape loyal to himself he had doubled his power. But little did Malfoy know where his true allegiance lay. Still, he could never break it off with the beautiful Governor, he had bewitched him with his good looks and now, his beautiful words.
"Whoever would have thought that old Professor Snape would daydream like a third-year girl about Lucius Malfoy," he drawled aloud to himself, leaning farther back into the hard-wood chair. Yes, now he was pulled further under than he could ever hope to scramble out of. He was drowning. He was drowning and he wouldn't have it any other way.
****************
END NOTE: Sorry the chapter is shorter than the others, I really had to end it there. Poor Lupin got filed away for the whole thing. And, about Lucius' characterization, I just got tired of seeing the same portrayal of him everywhere and I wanted him to be at least a little likeable and not just hell-bent on being a bastard and raping everyone and everything. And Snape came off a little girlier than I would have liked, but hey, it works. ^_^
DEDICATION: As always, to Kelly, for helping me so much she should be listed as a co-author. And I promise not to *kill* Jason-Dahling.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally got around to updating. I really don't want to know how long this fic's been neglected. No more song lyrics, very sad. Now, for a switch of perspective to clear up some issues and to give deserved attention to Snape. ^___^
****
Scratch, scratch, scratch. The disgruntled Potion Master cracked open one eye to peer out at the dismal room. Where was that coming from? Scratch, scratch. That blasted scratching had kept him up until an ungodly hour and he was going to find out what the hell it was! Throwing back the sable sheets, Snape narrowed his eyes and listened very intently for the next bout of scratching…
Scratch, scratch. Turning his head, quick as lightening, Severus leaped from his bed to realize that he had no idea from where it was coming from. Or from what, for that matter. Upon moving into the dungeons he had been certain to exterminate every sort of vermin there was to be had in the dank dungeons in order to keep his precious potions in pristine condition.
SCRATCH. It was mocking him, he knew that it was. Filthy thing. The professor went as far to consider that it was some pesky student striking out in vengeance for a particularly nasty assignment. Well, fine, he wouldn't let them get the best of him. He needed to work anyway. Yes, that was it. They were really doing him a service, keeping him up all night. Yes… That was exactly what they were doing…
Settling into the chair turned into his imposingly sharp-edged desk, Snape readied his materials for a long night of evaluation. Fourth-year essays. Quite possibly God's punishment for anyone stupid enough to stray from the path of righteousness to the path of education. They had been through enough lectures for them to believe that they truly had novel, inventive ideas, when in actuality, they were groping so hard for thesis's that they had probably come full circle, back to their first-year papers, except with a larger vocabulary.
But, he never actually *read* the papers, just skimmed them for particularly weak sentences and extremely obvious mistakes. That is, except when he was angry and covered the entire parchment with thick, red ink. Luckily for the fourth-years, he was too tired to do either and simply gave the majority of them mediocre grades. Snape's mind was on other things… Things like Lucius Malfoy's sudden personality augmentation. Why was he suddenly being so kind, so thoughtful, practically spouting love sonnets whenever they were together? True, he'd been a bit more elusive on this visit, but he had given Severus his full attention. It was highly suspicious and highly welcome at the same time.
'There is nothing in this world that can touch you if you know that someone loves you. You live for that person, because you know that your end would mean their end. It works like that for everyone. But there are a few who see loving in the same light. If you love someone, you will live for them. I live for you, Severus. I have always lived for you…' He recalled the words with some debate, knowing that if he thought too much on them, he would find himself falling for the man. Love was not something that Snape could allow himself to have. He neither wanted nor deserved it. And being in love with a Malfoy had never brought anyone any good. You were pulled in too quickly, too far, into those metallic, electric, passionate eyes and once they had enraptured you, there was no escaping them. The whole family was unnaturally good-looking; the women were pale, delicate creatures that filled you with thoughts of frosty springs, white roses and butterfly kisses, while the men were a congregation of unearthly beauties, in their midst you were sure to discover a Ganymede or Adonis at the very least. And Lucius was fit to rule them all. Feathery features, soft lips, cold stares and perfectly flaxen hair. He was made up of silk and steel and ice blended together by the precise fingers of some preternatural painter. Lucius Malfoy, the living work of art.
Pulling himself from his reverie, nay his worship, Snape ran his hands over his eyes. He was not one to heap praise on an individual and when was the last time he had become so consumed by thoughts of Lucius? Years and years, perhaps. Or had it been yesterday?
****
Fingers. Thousands of fingers reaching out to him. Wanting to catch him, wanting to hold him, to save him from an unseen foe that he himself hadn't realized had been gaining on him. Snowy skin, lightening hair, mercury eyes, pooling around him, embracing him. Fractured thoughts. Ten more fingers. Touching, rubbing, caressing, sparking emotions that had been deadened for forever. Velvet rubbed against his skin, the cloth of a coat, or was that perhaps Lucius' very skin? Soak it up, hold it in, revel in this, Severus, for it is a dream and you will awaken soon. Sooner than you would hope to. And The Sandman is not a welcome visitor at your door.
****
He awoke in a cold sweat, feeling a telltale sticky substance high on his leg. Good Lord, he hadn't had a dream like that in such a long time. And about Lucius… But maybe he was making this seem more dire and horrible than it actually was. Snape had felt for the other man for quite a while, why, he had been the one to begin this… Relationship of sorts… So maybe the love of a Malfoy was something akin to Heaven, and not the Hell he had made it out to be.
When had they first began their meetings? Two, maybe three years ago. The exact date refused to be pinned down in his mind. Though one thing he was quite sure of was that it had been winter and one of the coldest that he could remember for that matter…
****
"Severus? I hadn't expected to see you here. You should tell me when you mean to come up out of that pit you call a home, I'd quite like to catch up," the Governor chortled, pulling on his black velvet gloves.
Glaring over at Lucius, Snape let out a slight hiss of a sigh, noting with some distaste that it turned to steam before his eyes. Bloody freezing winters… "I hadn't planned on coming into town, let alone seeing you, forgive the discourtesy," Severus answered, his tone bitter. "I thought you didn't care for Hogsmeade, too many half-bloods."
"Mmm. It's true of course, the village is quaint. And if there's anything I can't stand, it's quaintness," he sneered, "But seeing you is a welcome interruption. You see, I'm to attend a board meeting tonight and I arrived early for once. They are starting to notice my liking for fashionably late entrances. So, I am stranded here in this sea of yuletide cheer and quaintness, looking for anything that meets my standards of fashion."
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to keep searching," Snape stated quickly, trying to sweep past Lucius when a lanky arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Come now, Severus. We're old friends-"
"I have never been more to you than a casual acquaintance," the professor amended hastily.
"School time friends, comrades, now co-workers. Join me for a drink, Severus. I'm sure we have much to catch up on."
Frowning exaggeratedly, Snape bore a venomous glare into the snow. "Uhn."
"Excellent, now let's hurry. At tonight's meeting, I'm going to try a fashionably early approach."
****
"I hear you've become a teacher," Lucius commented, fiddling with the handle of his glass of Firewater.
"I have been a teacher for six years, so glad you noticed."
"Oh. Well then, you must be very well adjusted. Anything else new?"
"Nothing that would interest you," Snape snapped, keeping his hands folded in front of him where his glass would have gone. Noting the absence of Severus' drink, Lucius smiled.
"Where's your drink? Tell me you drink. Please. I don't think I could bear talking to someone who doesn't drink."
"I'd…Rather not," the dark-haired man insisted weakly.
"Nonsense! Miss, get my friend a drink! Anything so long as it has alcohol in it!" Malfoy laughed, grinning over at Snape. At least he was in a good mood… Perhaps his presence would be tolerable. After all, at least he could talk enough for the both of him and wasn't frighteningly dull. He wasn't horrible to look at either, in fact- Blinking out of his current train of though, the Potions Master deepened his sour expression and kept his gaze firmly locked on the table before him.
"Severus? Severus? Your drink is here. Severus!" he shouted, his eyes narrowed and his fist clenched. No Malfoy took well to being ignored. Snapping his head up much too soon, his eyes met with the other man's and instinctively, Snape reached for the glass and downed its contents in a single swallow.
"There, I knew you drank. Never met a Slytherin that didn't drink. Leave abstinence to the Hufflepuffs, I always say," the blonde chuckled, already a little tipsy.
"Lestrange never drank," Snape countered, a little worried when the glass refilled itself. He had never retained alcohol well.
"Fuck Lestrange then!"
"Parkinson never did either."
"Oh, fuck you!"
Twitching involuntarily, the professor finished another shot. Don't think about that. Don't think about Lucius. Or fucking. Don't think of them together. Now don't throw yourself in there as well. Don't think about- Dammit.
"I thought you'd never ask," came Snape's dismal reply. Lucius rewarded the remark with a rich laugh. Bloody Hell, even his voice had to be sensual. That man should really have come with a warning label.
"Later, My Pet, later," Lucius snickered, clapping Severus firmly on the back and attempting to stand upright. He faired better than Snape imagined many would in this situation, but still, that wasn't saying much. How many drinks had he had? The Potions Master himself had drank… Four? Five? "And now we return to the castle, where I will overthrow that old coot and lock all of the Mudbloods in the dungeon and let you do what you will with them! What a pair we'd make, ruling that old edifice with a velvet fist in an iron glove! Or… An iron fist in a velvet glove!" the Governor announced, leaning on Snape for support.
"You certainly are a happy drunk," the professor muttered, managing to steer them out of the tavern and in the general direction of Hogwarts.
****
"Come sit on the bed, Severus. You make me nervous with all that stalking and looming you're doing," Lucius commanded, patting the bedding beside him. "This room is positively hideous. If you had an ounce of style you'd get over this… Basic black obsession. You're as bad as one of those Muggle teenagers."
"Shut up. I'm sure you have plans for my room already…" he grunted before sweeping over to the bed and perching on the edge of it.
"Oh yes, a thousand times yes! I could make it fit for a king, but of course taste would be lost on you. Anything that looks different in the light than it does in pitch-black darkness would be lost on you, Dear Severus."
Keeping quiet, the Potions Master glanced over at the blonde man, currently stretched out across his bed and removing his over-robe to reveal an exquisite velvet piece beneath it the color of red wine. He drank in the fabric, savoring the giddy feeling that it gave him that was almost as powerful as the real thing. Inching closer to the burgundy-wrapped body, Snape felt his fingers begin to tremble. It had been so long since he had felt like this, so very long…
"Severus? You look awfully drunk. You look as drunk as I feel," Lucius commented, shrugging comically. "Perhaps not going at all will be fashionable as well."
"You're not going to the meeting? Then what are you filling your evening with?" He thanked God that his voice had been level and completely and utterly ill-suited to his current state.
"You, I suppose. You should feel properly privileged that I would spend an entire evening with an old acquaintance…"
"Friend."
"Oh? So you're my friend now are you?" he asked, opening his gray-blue eyes to finally look directly at Severus. "I'd say by that look in your eyes that you'd like to be something more."
"I… I…"
"Silly little Severus. Always figured you for a fag. But I wondered about it quite a bit back when we were students. I'd lay awake and think, 'I wonder what he'd do if I kissed him. I wonder what he'd do if I said that I liked him.' Just thoughts, never did care for you. Not much to look at, if I may be so blunt. And as a child, anything that didn't sparkle wasn't worth my time. I suppose I haven't changed much in that sense. You're still not pleasant to look at, mind you, but I think other things have topped the aesthetic on my list of priorities and all I can say is that you've sobered me up rather quickly. Come here, Severus," Lucius crooned, his eyes deliciously half-lidded in a come-hither stare.
Obeying Malfoy's command, Snape slunk over to the other man, a little confused by his admonition. How could he be so sure of himself all of the time?
"Closer, Severus, I want to give you what you want to receive."
A little cautious and always one to be shrewd, the Potions Master took his sweet time approaching Lucius, finally resting his head on the blonde's shoulder. "As I said, other things are more important to me now, Severus, I've matured, as have my tastes. Glitter will catch any man's eye, but dust has its own appeal, Severus. I need your intelligence. Your talent. And above all," the man whispered into Snape's ear, his warm breath catching in the shell, "Your power."
And ever so slowly, Lucius' luscious tongue escaped from the trappings of his mouth and gently grazed Severus' ear. And it was then that he realized that the love of a Malfoy could be a dangerously addictive thing.
****
Tapping his quill against the desk, Snape tried to turn his attention back to the essays before him, but it kept stealing away to thoughts of a more pleasant nature. It had become a regular thing from that moment on, Lucius visiting his rooms whenever he had a meeting or was in the area. Snape had a feeling that his partner's only reasons for returning was to bind the Potions Master to himself, ensnaring him in a web of seduction and allure that would rocket him up the lattice work of the Dark Lord's favor. Why, by keeping Snape loyal to himself he had doubled his power. But little did Malfoy know where his true allegiance lay. Still, he could never break it off with the beautiful Governor, he had bewitched him with his good looks and now, his beautiful words.
"Whoever would have thought that old Professor Snape would daydream like a third-year girl about Lucius Malfoy," he drawled aloud to himself, leaning farther back into the hard-wood chair. Yes, now he was pulled further under than he could ever hope to scramble out of. He was drowning. He was drowning and he wouldn't have it any other way.
****************
END NOTE: Sorry the chapter is shorter than the others, I really had to end it there. Poor Lupin got filed away for the whole thing. And, about Lucius' characterization, I just got tired of seeing the same portrayal of him everywhere and I wanted him to be at least a little likeable and not just hell-bent on being a bastard and raping everyone and everything. And Snape came off a little girlier than I would have liked, but hey, it works. ^_^