S I N F U L
By: Havana Nguyen
Disclaimer: Seth Stiles, Vincent Aries, and the fanfiction "Sinful" is copyrighted by Havana; Harry Potter and everything that relates to the book series is copyrighted by J.K. Rowling. I am making no profit from this fic. Whee piggies.
Author's Notes: There is a graphic description about an implied sexual encounter ... but it is rather brief. Please read and if possible, take the time to review. You will be loved. 3
C h a p t e r T w o
Seth lied in bed, staring up at the darkness. The only noises that penetrated the ominous silence were the soft, steady breathing of the other Slytherins in the dormitory. Usually, a brilliant silvery moonlight would have pierced the large window opposite of him and strike him right in the face but it was a heavily cloudy night. He began to wonder if he had gone blind, he had been staring at the darkness for so long. Was he closing his eyes? Where was up and where was down? Was he dead? He stroked his cheek with his fingers … he was still alive. "Stupid …" he muttered to himself. The cold, hard floor tickled his feet as he wandered off and exited the dormitory, heading towards the restroom …
Turning on the vivid lights in the restroom, Seth nearly blinded himself and cursed under his breath. Blinking rapidly, he squinted to stare at his reflection in the massive mirror. The emerald green porcelain of the elegantly decorated restroom reflected the bright lights behind him. Stone statues of serpents adorned the facility, seemingly staring at Seth, waiting for him to erupt with insanity ...
He sneered at his ghostly white, androgynous face, his coiled back hair, his frightening, colorless eyes. "Stupid," he whispers again, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Stupid, stupid, stupid--" he began ramming himself against the ceramic walls violently with each word "--Stupid! STUPID! STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!" He dropped to his knees and shrieked in an embarrassingly high tone, "STUPID!"
Tears sprinkled the floor. A strand of saliva slithered out his mouth. He remained there, on all fours, shivering, sobbing uncontrollably. How could be so be weak? Why couldn't he stand up to people? Why did he feel so alone? He hardly ever screamed. The only time he had screamed was when ... was when ... was when ...
He cried just thinking about it. A memory flickered through his mind like the shimmer of a flame. He remembered, lying in his bed, at home, his back facing the ceiling. Sweat and tears dripping down his distressed expression, his lungs inflating and deflating heavily, his body shaking, he felt a disturbing warmth trickling down his naked legs. A man with rumpled, black hair towered over him, grinning and sopping with sweat as well. "This will be our little secret, okay Seth?"
"D-Dad," he whimpered. He was aching so excruciatingly from the waist down.
'Don't tell anyone, okay, Seth?" He gave no indication that he heard him.
"Dad," Seth gasped. His voice was stinging from screaming just a few moments ago.
"Good night, son." He felt his father kiss him on his tear-stained cheek and flinched as he exited the bedroom. He so despised his father at this very minute, but quickly felt ashamed of his feelings. Still laying there with his soft pajama pants at his ankles and his slightly blood-stained white briefs, he felt completely paralyzed. How could he have been so weak? Why couldn't he fight back? Don't tell anyone, his father told him ... don't tell anyone.
Seth shook the memory from his head and straightened up, finally starting to feel rather sleepy ...
The next day, the entire Slytherin house were rolling in laughter when Malfoy and Vincent announced that they had found Seth sleeping in the Slytherin restroom. Seth neglected the derision from all of the students and headed straight to his first class while everyone was collecting into the Great Hall for breakfast. The orange sunrise's rays reached across the skies today and in spite of this, it was freezing. Watching the clouds roam by above, Seth waited with a solemn face for his Care of Magical Creatures class to commence. His stomach was rumbling awfully loudly; one would question if it was his stomach or if a real live dragon was standing right behind them; he so wished he was capable of joining the breakfast feast without being harassed. Stroking his belly, he silently decided to sneak in the Great Hall during lunch period and grab some food.
Without any warning, a booming noise caused Seth to jump back in surprise. The small hut in which he was standing by even shook a bit; apparently, its occupant, Hagrid, had just woken up from his sleep. Hagrid was a large fellow: about nine feet in height and three times the width of the average man. Without a doubt, he could probably rip out a tree without any effort. He could probably take down a giant if he had to. He could probably wrestle a dragon and possibly even win. What has always bothered Seth was the fact that although he was so physically powerful, why did he always wear such a compassionate, friendly smile? Why did he endure the malicious jeers of Malfoy and Vincent? Why did he serve Dumbledore? If he was half as strong as Hagrid was, he'd take orders from no one …
With a trace of weariness in his voice, Hagrid turned to Seth and blinked curiously. "Aren't yeh s'posed to be 'avin' breakfast, now?"
"Well, I'm not very hungry, thank you," he replied, his head sinking lower into his Slytherin scarf to repel the coldness.
"Yeh cold? Why don'tcha come in fer a bit?" He gave a light chuckle and welcomed Seth in. "Waitin' fer class ter start, eh? Tha' doesn't happ'n very often now, does it?" He chuckled yet again.
Seth moaned softly as the warmth of the little hut draped over him. It was so very small, yet so very big; it consisted of a single room, but it contained a large, comfortable-looking bed, a drawer, a cupboard, and a crackling fireplace. In the center was a circular table and a massive chair in which a large, black dog was settled in. He did not look fierce -- on the contrary, he was rather lazy and oafish, drool spilling all over the furniture.
"Seth, is it?"
Seth suddenly broke off from his trance and looked over at Hagrid, pausing a bit to realize what he had asked.
"Seth Stiles?"
"Erm, yeah. T-That's right." He tried to smile but it turned out crooked. He was not used to smiling much.
"Yeh want some tea or … anythin'?"
"Uhm, sure, if it's no trouble."
Hagrid poured some tea into a teacup and handed to Seth. He smiled out of gratitude and then winced as the tea scorched his lips. The two of them remained quiet for a long while, occasionally bringing their teacups up to their lips and taking a sip.
"Uhm ..." Seth stared at his tea. "How much time is ther-- I mean, how much longer until class starts?"
"Oh, er ... probably jus' a coupla' minutes." Both of them glanced at the clock and much to their disappointment, only a mere seven minutes had passed since they withdrew into the hut. Taking another sip of tea, Hagrid shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"So ... what are we d-doing today?"
"Oh, jus' reviewing today. We're gonna be moving into one o' them spare rooms in the castle, see?"
"But how is everyone going to know --"
"I've sent an owl ter ev'ryone already. I s'pose you didn't get one, seein' how yer skippin breakfast an' all." Seth had never received an owl. Ever. Except from his parents during this first year, whom wanted to confirm the fact that their son was safe at Hogwarts.
When it was time for the first class to start, Hagrid escorted Seth down into the dungeons and entered a gigantic, empty room. It was brightly lit by torches that hung on the walls, and there were numerous empty desks and chairs scattered around. "A lil' big, but ... " He nodded in satisfaction, his eyes traveling throughout the room.
A group of Slytherins and Gryffindors soon flocked into the classroom, settling down in their chairs, two people to a desk. Harry and Ron were sharing a desk, leaving Hermione without a place to sit; they quietly mouthed an apology to her. The only other empty chair was the one beside Seth, in the back row. Sitting erect with eyes flung open anxiously, he stared at her from the edge of his eye. She seem to nestle into her chair as softly as a feather and she smiled politely at Seth. He returned the smile and then blushed, hiding behind his black locks.
Throughout the entire class, they were assigned to completely mainly bookwork, which bored not only the students but Hagrid, too. However, it was awfully difficult to study, seeing how the textbooks kept snapping at their hands and eating their papers. Many of the students bewitched them so they would be held down onto the table, others placed a sleeping spell on theirs. Having forgotten his book, Seth had to share Hermione's. He was so anxious and nervous, being so close to Hermione, that Hermione often had to wait an additional minute to two to let him catch up.
By the end of class, the books became more aggravated and rumbled wildly. The sleeping spells that were cast onto the books were wearing off. Seth snickered as Malfoy's book bit him. Hagrid permitted everyone to talk during the last five minutes of class, so Hermione picked up her book and strolled over to Harry and Ron. Seth tried to get her to stay but alas, she escaped his grasp again. If only he had the confidence to approach her ...
He suddenly gave a squeal as he felt one of his black curls being pulled. "He squeals like a little girl," laughed Vincent. "Who're you lookin' at, Stiles?"
Seth back away form him with an angry expression, his cheeks reddening.
Malfoy sniggered. "I think he's got a little crush on that Mudblood girl, Granger."
"I-I do not!" he lied.
Vincent and Malfoy tugged at his hair again and their laughter deepened as Seth struggled away, making squeamish noises. As he tried to retreat from them, Vincent stepped onto his cloak, making him trip and fall. All eyes were now targeted on him, and he shuddered as the sound of laughter ran through his head. He rose and looked around; the only person who wasn't laughing was Hermione, who was glaring at Malfoy and Vincent. Hagrid even looked as if he were trying to keep in a little chuckle. Seth's face was curtained by his black curls yet again, as he muttered under his breath, "Let me disappear, let me disappear ..."
The following class was Charms, conducted by the tiny Professor Flitwick. Usually, Seth would perform decently in this class but today, he couldn't concentrate, not after the episode in Care of Magical Creatures Class. Inside his mind, he kept beating himself up and reminding himself of how worthless and weak he was. His stomach was aching so badly now that his eyes actually began to water. Vincent and Malfoy kept pointing at Seth and chortling quietly. Seth wanted to yell, "I'm not crying, you stupid gits!" but he didn't. He couldn't. And he hated himself because he couldn't. Trying to cheer himself up, he again imagined the two of them writhing at him feet in utmost pain as he performed a Cruciatius Curse on them; he smiled a bit to himself.
When lunchtime arrived, Seth ran into the Great Hall, fighting the bustling crowd. As he sat himself down, foods blossomed out of nowhere in front of him and he started to devour as much as he could, his mouth watering like mad. There were plates of chicken, fruits, vegetables, bread -- Seth had felt like he had died and gone to heaven. Hopefully, no one would distinguish him from the crowd and make a fool out of him again. Finally pausing for a gulp of juice from a nearby goblet, he noticed that some people were staring at him oddly. His face was boorishly covered in scraps of food and he behaving in a piggish way. He felt a little tap on his shoulder and with much reluctance, he turned around and saw Malfoy, Vincent, Crabbe, and Goyle. "This is our spot, Stiles," Malfoy hissed. "Now MOVE."
"I will not be weak," Seth commanded to himself under his breath, not budging.
"What was that?"
"I-I was here first." Seth tried to glare at them.
Vincent's face drew up towards his, their noses barely touching. "MOVE, Stiles." They stared stubbornly into each other's eyes forever until Seth finally sighed and removed himself from his position. Malfoy, Vincent, Crabbe, and Goyle quickly took their seats and began feasting upon their lunches . Seth looked back and then retreated into the library, where he seemed to belong.
A fleeting feeling of fear struck him as he remembered that there will be a test in Potions class today. He panicked and wanted to study but he couldn't, now that he was already in the class, quivering in his seat. Everyone seemed nervous, even Hermione, although she held her head up high. Professor Snape stood before his students, seemingly grinning cruelly at their quiet distress. His appearance was much like Seth's: colorless. His black hair was greasy and it fell lifeless down the sides of his face. His dark eyes were abysmal and his voice was low and strained. Seth was like a younger version of him, minus his curly hairstyle and the fact he couldn't even persuade anyone to do anything if this life depended on it. Seth, like many other Slytherins, took in great pleasure when he tormented Harry about his errors or took away ludicrous numbers of points from Gryffindor.
However, Seth himself was not very efficient in potion-brewing. Snape often shook his head in utter disappointment and that made him feel completely useless but for some reason, he treated him with more compassion than he did with the other students. His compassion was terribly subtle; he still scorned him about following instruction properly but somehow, Seth saw a trace of sympathy in his dark, dark eyes.
A small cauldron was slammed onto his desk. Seth jumped in his seat, startled. Everyone now had an individual cauldron and immediately began following the directions that appeared on the blackboard. Hesitant, he began carefully brewing the assigned potion, which was a most complicated and tedious task. He made certain that he was stirring the exact number of times, that the dried newt was crushed into a very fine powder, that the precise amount of Bundimun secretion was added -- CLANG. The entire class shook in alarm as a cauldron shattered onto the floor. Neville Longbottom, Seth noticed, was standing over the mess, his face stricken with horror. Snape rushed over to him so quickly that he looked like a shadow gliding across the classroom; his eyes bore down into Longbottom sternly and he scorned him harshly. Quickly, Seth returned to his assignment and panicked, seeing that it was bubbling while no one else's was. What had he done wrong? A snigger caught his ear; he turned his head over to the side and found Vincent smirking. "I think you've messed up, Stiles," he whispered.
Looming towards him ,Snape stared at Seth's bubbling cauldron and shook his head. "Mr. Stiles, can you read?"
Seth looked at him with fright. "Yes, s-s-sir."
"So tell me, what does number six tell you precisely what to do?"
"Mix in two cups of Essence of Belladonna and stir counter-clockwise five times --"
"I see it says nothing about adding--" He sniffed the bubbling potion briefly --"Hippogriff talons. Tsk tsk tsk."
"But sir, Vincent's the one who--"
"Don't accuse others for your own wrongdoing, Stiles. Five points from Slytherin. Evanesco!" The bubbling potion evaporated and Seth was left with an empty cauldron and the professor wandered off towards Harry Potter, criticizing him and assigning him an essay.
That night, Seth had actually managed to swipe a roll from the Great Hall before withdrawing into the Slytherin commonroom. He loved being in the commonroom alone. No one could push him off of the black leather seats, or hog the warm fireplace, or taint the beauty and the luxury of the room, which was ornamented with serpents just like the bathroom. There was an ominous splendor to this room that could not have been described; although the colors were mainly dark and sinister, they made you feel powerful. Snuggled into a large chair by the fire, he started to work on his homework as quickly as possible, his quill scratching feverishly against the parchment.
Just about finished, Seth finally heard commotion inching closer and closer and decided to put away his books and completed work. A small group of Slytherin first years infiltrated the room; one of them had tears streaming down her eyes. "I can't believe my parents are divorcing!" she bawled. Two other Slytherin girls were trying to console her, with their hands on her shoulders. "How can they do this to me?"
Rather relieved that it was Malfoy or Vincent, Seth sighed and felt a little empathetic for the girl's misfortune. He possessed knowledge that could tear up the marriage of his parents. He remembered when he had once overheard his mother talking to someone on the telephone in a very flirtatious way, giggling and teasing and using a seductive, sugary voice that Seth had never heard her use. When he asked who was speaking to, she slapped him across the face and demanded him never to speak of it to his father. Of course, his father never found out that his dear wife was having affairs ... and she never found out that her husband ...
"Don't tell anyone, okay, Seth?" These words rung through Seth's mind incessantly. He could still feel his father's hands, roaming all over, and his breath against the back of his neck ...
More people invaded the commonroom and Seth hurried off to his dormitory.
