Chapter Seven

Lily Evans was in the hospital wing, being treated for hyperventilation. When her book bag had broken from her shoulder, molasses poured out slowly onto the path leading to the menagerie, staining her robes and clinging to her shoes. When she reached Defense Against the Dark Arts after picking up her things, her hands were covered in sticky brown molasses. Potter asked if she wanted any help, but she waved him off furiously. She'd been so mad that she began crying during the professor's lesson, but it wasn't until she opened the inkbottle to take notes and the arachnid came crawling out that she fell into hysterics, whimpering and unable to breath easily. Remus Lupin had been instructed to take her to the infirmary.

Pythia and Narcissa had almost needed to go, as well, for they had gone into near convulsions as they watched Evans through the one-way mirror that Severus carried. During Charms, they had lost Slytherin ten points for disrupting Flitwick's lesson, but no one from their House dared to chide them for the infraction, for their ties to Lucius Malfoy were well-known and feared.

"That was hilarious," Pythia snickered on their way to dinner. When they reached the Great Hall, Lucius waited outside for them. He looked at Narcissa, cocking his head toward the table, then took Pythia's hand and led her into the shadows behind the enormous door. She followed, puzzled until he pushed her against the wall, hard, putting his mouth on hers. She pushed back against the kiss as his hands slid into her robes. When his cold fingers reached the flesh below the hem of her skirt, she gasped and he continued on to her neck. Now that her mouth was unobstructed, she inquired smartly, "Feeling amorous?" as her hands slid into his own robes.

He momentarily pulled away from her throat enough to answer, "Conciliatory."

"Ah," she breathed as his teeth nipped her jaw line. "Sex in the true spirit of armistice. Thus is the Malfoy way."

"Shh," he hissed, kissing her again, tangling his hand tightly in her hair, pulling her head back to kiss her with bruising demand. She bit at his lips, a small moan issuing from his throat.

Lucius liked it rough. Sex was violence, and the more force, the better. His other hand was working deftly at unlacing the ties to her bodice. Pythia dug her fingers into his shoulders, whimpering when he abandoned the cords for her thighs.

"What's going on back here?"

Filch's voice stopped Pythia's heart and she slapped away Lucius's hand. Lucius put his hand over Pythia's mouth, forcing her to crouch on the floor with him as he raised his robes to cover them. The shadows helped to hide them, but with Lucius's robes, it was nearly pitch black. Filch would never see them, and the burning in her lungs told Pythia that he would never hear them, either. The caretaker hobbled away, muttering that he needed some beasta tiger or something to hunt down students. Lucius lowered the fabric and grinned at Pythia.

"Shall we?"

His mouth captured hers once again as his fingers slid again to her thigh. Pythia thought momentarily about protesting before her hands slithered back into his robes . . .

Later that night, Pythia lay on Lucius's left, her body curled toward his, watching him watch her as he lay on his back. Her fingers crept over his, dragging her fingernails lightly across the back of the hand by his side. She smiled a smile that was simply a languid twitch of the right corner of her mouth. The hand she caressed lifted from the sheets and pushed the hair back from the right side of her face, stroking her ear, one of her major erogenous zones. Her voice came out in soft, breathy moans as his eyes narrowed in concentration.

Lucius's personal pleasure was pain, but he was fully aware that Pythia's tastes ran more to the tender, and he sometimes needed to know that he still had control over her. And control meant pleasure as much as it did pain.

So, his fingers worked torturously slowly across the curls of her ear, bringing delighted mews from her throat. She gasped in surprise as he moved to lay over her, turning her face to the pillow to trace her outer ear with his tongue. She made helpless sounds while his fingers played lightly across her skin, teeth nipping at her earlobe, drawing a long, low moan from her. Her knees lifted to cradle his hips between her thighs, but he gave a rolling chuckle and fell onto his back once again. Pythia yelped in surprise, snorting indignantly and turning on her side away from him when she realized what he was doing.

They lay there for several momeninutes, until Pythia was a fraction away from the total oblivion of slumber, before Lucius spoke. "What are you not telling me, Pythia?"

Pythia bit her lip at hearing her full first name. Lucius, who had delighted her for the past hours, was indescribably discontented by her. She could not pretend to be asleep, because he always knew. "Severus thinks that you're hitting me."

"And he wants to rescue you, to play the unlikely hero? The knight in tarnished armor?"

Pythia turned onto her back, swallowing hard. "I guess. I mean, I don't know."

"I do," Lucius replied coolly. "I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. He is completely besotted with you, and you don't know it, do you?"

Pythia's teeth sank softly into the flesh of her lower lip once again. Lucius couldn't be more wrong. She found it very hard to believe indeed that Severus had any feelings toward her that weren't strictly platonic. She was a part of his circle of friends, yes, but in all honesty not very close. She was still a minor annoyance at best.

"And do you want to be rescued?"

Pythia turned her head to find Lucius's gray eyes scrutinizing her. "I like being yours," she answered truthfully.

"But," he continued for her.

She nodded, turning toward him and propping herself up on an elbow. "But belonging to you isn't always going to be enough. Someday I'm going to want more."

Lucius nodded as if he knew this already but wasn't entirely pleased about it. "And how far off is 'someday?'" he asked softly, smiling.

Pythia tried to read his face and concluded that they had forgiven each other. "I'll let you know," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him deeply.

"The next time you decide to pull an all-nighter, Lucius, use a silencing charm," Evan suggested darkly the next morning at breakfast.

Pythia blushed fiercely, but Lucius merely shrugged. "Won't happen again," he answered smoothly.

"You two get loud," Nero, who slept a stone wall away from the sixth year dormitory in the seventh, stated.

Pythia found Narcissa snickering into her napkin across the table, prompting her to stab a couple of pieces of cantaloupe into her mouth before grabbing her book bag and stalking out toward the library. There were still about fifteen minutes left before the first class of the day commenced, and she had a couple of points in an Ancient Runes essay that she needed to confirm.

She had checked three books to clarify one statement and was looking through a fourth when a shadow fell across the table. She glanced up into the pale brown eyes of Remus Lupin.

"That was a horrible thing your friends did."

Pythia's nostrils flared. "As if Potter and Black don't do worse to Severus every day."

The first edge of anger stirred in Lupin's voice. "I don't approve of that, either."

"Then get off your high horse and stop them," Pythia hissed, rising from the chair.

"You think it's that easy."

Pythia put her materials back into her book bag. "I know it's not, Lupin. I'm pretty low on the ladder myself, so if you want them to stop harassing Evans, then I suggest you take it up with Lucius. Good luck with that. Secondly, I don't care if we never stop tormenting Evans, because in case you haven't realized yet, I hate the girl. Either way, little Lily's in for a rough time, so either do something about it or get the hell out of the way."