Chapter Eight: Voyeuristically

We cannot live for ourselves alone. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible
threads, and along these sympathetic fibers, our actions run as causes and return to
us as results. --Herman Melville

The floating smoked skull hung heavy over the castle that housed Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry. Burke swallowed hard as he stared up into the mocking
face, unable to tear his eyes away. He had seen a great many things in his long
marriage to Catorina. Many incredible, unbelievable things that he had since come
to accept as normal and natural. But every once and again, something caught him off
guard, something thrashed against his brain, something that he couldn't, would never
make sense of. The laughing skull above him was one of those things.

Dumbledore leaned heavily on his cane as he glanced wearily up at the Dark Mark, his
age suddenly rushing over him in such a wave that he trembled, and if not for
Minerva's hands on his arm, he would have fallen to the ground. He looked away from
the emerald smoke and locked eyes with Snape who gave a small nod and moved to herd
children and parents back into the school.

It wasn't as successful as one would hope, the young children pointing and talking,
their parents rooted in fear. Even the muggles, those still trying to acclimate
themselves to this new world were afraid. They knew that mark. They had seen it
too many times to not hold the same fear as their wizarding counter parts.

Seamus licked his lips as he tore his eyes away from the symbol, a symbol he now
carried on his arm. He tugged at the sleeve of his robe as he slipped through the
crowd, trying to hide amongst the throng. He turned and looked over his shoulder,
but instead of a green haze, he instead found his eyes drawn to a pair of brown that
were stairing coldly into his. He shifted, uncomfortable before turning away from
Percy's gaze, fleeing for the safety of the castle. A caste that was no longer a
safe haven as tell of young Cotty's disappearance and the floating skull spread
through its walls.

***

Peter ran his hand over his cold, silver hand, watching as Lucius paced the room,
the older man's robes swirling around him as he stalked a dust bunny, anger
radiating of off him. Peter swallowed and poured another shaky glass of brandy,
downing it quickly, feeling the alcohol burn through his veins. He looked up again
and gave a sheepish smile as he saw Lucius stairing at him. "Just a bit of
courage," He said softly, putting the stopper back in the crystal decanter. "For
the long road ahead,"

"There is not enough brandy in the world to give you courage, Pettigrew," Malfoy
hissed and slammed the far doors open with a flick of his wand. "Summon him, NOW!"

Peter all but ran through the doors, his own anger fueling him. He may have been a
rat but really! He was tired of being the fool to someone. First James and Sirius,
then Tom. Now this idiot. He really should have killed him when he had the chance.

Peter headed back to his suite of rooms, ignoring the calls of other Death Eaters
who were eager to lick Lucius's boots and tried to use Peter as a stepping stone.
He didn't have time for the hassle it always caused.

***

Harry slipped slowly down the stairs of the dungeon rooms, humming off key to
himself as he thought of seeing Draco. Even after he had returned to Hogwarts, he
had only seen his former lover once or twice, the pain still too fresh for both of
them. He knew that, seeing as how he was dead, the pain would fade faster, but it
was still there, deep inside. It was hard to end true love.

He paused, hearing a sound ahead of him and floated closer, peering around the
corner, pushing his glasses up his nose as he watched the back in front of him.

**

Neville stood in the doorway of the potion's classroom, smiling softly as he watched
Draco lean over a student, gently correcting his stirring, his hand clasping the
other boy's as they stirred the potion together.

He leaned against the door frame, watching the scene, giving a small wave as Draco
looked up at him. Draco nodded before going back to teaching, reveling in his job.
The bell soon rang and Neville watched as the kids packed up and hurried off, eager
for whatever lay before them. He stared after them for a long moment before
slipping into the potion's room, joining Draco at his desk.

Draco smiled and earned down, kissing Neville's nose gently, gathering up his
things. "And what can I do for you, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville smiled, watching Draco's hands as they slowly, carefully picked up their
master's belongings, packing them away in his bag. He paused, licking his lips.
"Make me forget him," he whispered, reaching out and stilling Draco's hands.

Draco looked up at him, brow furrowed. "Make you forget." His eyes widened as
Neville nodded and he ran a hand over Neville's smooth cheek before tilting the
young man's face up and slowly kissing him.

Neville's eyes fell shut as his returned the kiss, slowly, before slowly growing
hungrier, pulling Draco closer, his arms sliding around his, hopefully, soon to be
lover's waist.

Draco shoved his worries and concerns to the back of his mind as he slowly un did
the fastening's of Neville's robes, his hands trembling as his cool reserve broke,
fading away.

**

Percy watched the pair in his scrying bowl; his tears hitting the water, making the
images shift and distort. He should have turned away at Neville's words, banished
the images, but he couldn't.wouldn't look away from this. Neville was a fool if he
ever thought that Draco could replace him, take his place in Neville's heart. And
Draco was an idiot for even trying, for daring to be anything to HIS Neville. The
blonde man would pay, not now of course. He couldn't make a bloody move without
that fool, Albus stalking his footsteps, but soon, when his Master returned to
power, then the idiot would pay, a nice, bloody price for this.

**

Neville's hands ran slowly down the silk robes Draco wore before sliding them off
his shoulders, his mouth following the fabric over flesh as much as they could
before hitting more fabric, a growl rising in his throat. The shirt was done away
quickly, aid given by a sharp knife Draco had thoughtfully left on his desk.

Draco cursed and glared at Neville before returning the favor, letting the shards of
fabric fall from his hands. A groan escaped as Neville's tounge and mouth left hot,
wet trails across his flesh, making him shiver and push the boy away. He kissed
Neville tenderly again as he lifted Neville onto the desk, his own mouth playing
explorer now, across the planes of pale flesh, tasting new areas, conquering un
claimed bits.

Whimpers and sighs escaped Neville, his eyes closed again, savoring the tastes and
sensations of pleasure he hadn't felt in far too long. Whatever he had been trying
to forget had been forgotten as he gave in to what his body wanted. The pain would
come back, but for now, everything was bliss.

**

Hary watched in hungry fascination as his ex claimed a new lover, his pale green
eyes drinking in the sight of their bodies moving together, his ears swallowing the
sounds that floated to him. His heart twisted inside him, torn, bleeding at the
loss. When he had died it had hurt, to leave love behind, but nothing, not even
death felt as wretched as watching your lover fall for another, nothing felt as
empty as watching that love come to shattering completion. The knowledge that it
was all truly gone, that they were gone. That was a lesson Harry would have eagerly
done without. He knew Draco wouldn't wait forever, hoped that he wouldn't. But
his was far more then he could bear, but still, he watched.

**

"You are crying," Lucius whispered softly, running his fingers through the silken
hair that teased his cheek, his other running over his lover's face, gathering the
salty droplets, watching as they slid over his finger.

Seamus closed his eyes, more tears falling from his lashes in the action. He
swallowed and blinked, looking up at his lover, his master. "I'm scared,"

"Of what?"

"Myself, this, what I've done. I'm scared for my family, Cotty."

"Is fine, I'm sure."

"I wish I could know that. Who.he's just a child."

"A powerful child, or so I've been told."

"But he's only five. Who would take a five year old? He has no training to be of
use to anyone, and if it's revenge.for what? We've never done anything."

"Your mother.." Lucius started but trailed off at the look in Seamus' eyes.

"My mother did what she thought was right. She's never been a threat to us, to our
cause, she's just a witch in over her head." He growled, sitting up, the silken
sheet sliding away from his naked body. He stood and stretched before crossing to
the window, the moonlight playing over his flesh.

Lucius watched him, smiling as he studied the beautiful sight presented to him
before standing himself and crossing over to Seamus, wrapping his arms around him,
pulling him tight against his chest. "I promise, love, I will give whatever I can
to help you find your cousin. Your every wish is my command." He whispered,
kissing the shell of Seamus' ear.

"And what is the price?"

Lucius' shocked reflection made Seamus laugh mirthlessly. "There is a price to
everything, Lucius. The price for power is my body; the price for my secrets is
your body. What is the price for your aide?"

"You are too cynical." Lucius said before pulling away. "But there is a job I need
done, by the right person,"

Seamus just raised an eyebrow, expecting this. He was right about what he said,
there was always a price for things. Something he learned early on.

"I have a," Lucius paused, searching for the right word. "Nuisance that has become
more of a problem. She was to be my protege, but instead she is a traitor." He
looked at Seamus; the moonlight now glinting of a sharp, deadly knife he had picked
up from the night table. "Remove this thorn for me?"

Seamus took the knife, running a finger over it before raising his eyes up to the
moon. "As my lord wishes," He said softly.

**

Monica looked over her shoulder before pulling her hood lower over her face,
slipping out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Her arm itched and she raised
her sleeve, glaring at the tattoo on her arm. "Bastard," She hissed and hurried
more, darting across the wide lawn, heading for the front doors of Hogwarts. She
fingered the scroll in her pocket, a full and detailed account of Death Eater
activity, as she knew it. Dumbledore was waiting for this paper, the last bit of
proof he needed before he held an assembly for the refugees and students of
Hogwarts, announcing the return to war.

She winced as she stepped on a twig, the snap echoing in the still night. She froze
and listened hard for sounds that betrayed her, for sounds of pursual but the night
was empty not even the insects bothered to announce their presence. Relief coursing
through her she moved forward again and screamed as a cold arm slid around her. Her
cry was unheard though, muffled by the gloved hand over her mouth. She bit on the
hand but her captor just chuckled softly, his lips pressed against her ear.

"Dragon hide, bitch." He whispered his breath moist, warm.

Something pressed against her ribs and her eyes widened, feeling the point that slid
under her robe.

"Our master has called to you and yet you don't come, he worries," The voice said.
The point of the knife slid in more, slicing through her thick sweater. "He wishes
to speak to you, but you ignore him. He writes and you burn them." The speaker's
tounge flickered over her ear. "Traitor," He hissed and pulled the scroll from her
pocket.

Seamus shoved Monica forward, pushing her to the ground. He smiled, a cold twisted
version as she tried to crawl away. His booted foot landed hard on her back and she
fell to the ground, weeping. "Pathetic," He said, shaking his head. He rolled her
over with his foot and struck, his knife plunging into her heart, and into the soft
soil beneath her body. He knelt and pulled another knife from his boot, lifting her
arm, baring the mark she detested with every fiber of her being. He kissed the
skull softly before placing the knife against her flesh; the blade biting into her
skin, peeling the tattoo she was so unworthy of from her body.

He stood, holding the bloody knife and dripping flesh, the scroll still clutched in
his other hand. He put the papers in his mouth for a moment, using his robes to
clean his knife carefully before sheathing it, the bit of flesh sliding into a
holder, safe for the moment. A golden lighter came from his boot next and he
flicked it open, holding the scroll out as he flicked the flame to life.

His face was lit up as he ignited the scroll, letting it burn until he had to
release it, the burning ash falling onto the body at his feet, scattering around
her. He blew the body a kiss before pulling his hood up again, heading slowly for
the castle, his hands in his pockets, a cheery whistle falling from his lips.

**
Percy's eyes followed Seamus as he walked slowly up the entrance steps. As the
blonde disappeared into the castle, Percy let his gaze return to the body lying
alone on the front lawn, licking his lips, feeling his passions rise even higher.
It had been a long time since he had killed, felt the warm blood rush over his
flesh, the rush of lust and thrill of adrenaline as his watched life fade from
another's eyes. It was something he missed with a burning pain. And now another
got to enjoy his thrill while he was stuck in his prison.

**

"Let me go!" Cotty shouted, tears streaming down his face as he pulled against his
chains, heaving his entire tiny body forward, biting back a scream as the iron tore
into his already torn wrists. "Please," He whispered.

He blinked; light flooding his tear filled vision, making it even harder to see.
He could vaguely recognize a tall, thin person standing in front of him, blackness
surrounding the body, a darkness that came from within, rather then from the
outside. Cotty hated the visions he got, they scared him and gave him nightmares,
and he couldn't tell anyone what he saw, no one would belive him.

"Please, let me go," He whispered. "I want my mummy,"

The figure laughed and brushed the tears from his cheeks, kissing his forehead.
"Your mummy doesn't want to see you," he said before standing. "Now be a good boy
and close your eyes."

"NO!" Cotty screamed but it was no use as the visions kept flooding over his sight,
distant images and sounds, brought on by the food and drink they kept forcing on
him. "I won't," he whispered, even as his eyes clamped shut against the pain.

Lucius watched the boy for a moment before going back to his desk, keeping an ear on
the sounds that came from the closet as he worked.

**

Draco ran his fingers through Neville's hair, watching as his new lover slept,
trying to memorize every inch of his face. This was how Neville should
look.peaceful, innocent. It was the boy he had always known; though the baby fat
had long since been lost, much to Draco's pity. But time had changed the boy, war
had hardened him. The anger, fear, hate, worry that Neville felt constantly while
awake had changed him, outside as in. The innocence had fled quickly, replaced with
lines of worry, creases of hate that aged Neville, and while he was most definitely
no less beautiful, Draco's cherub had disappeared, replaced with a man.

Draco kissed Neville's lips tenderly, pulling him closer against him, the blankets
cocooning around them. "I won' let you hurt anymore," He whispered, his fingers
running down over Neville's back. "I swear it, no more pain, no more loss. I won't
let you leave me, just as I won't leave you."

Neville's broken heart slowly started to gather it's pieces, warmed by the promise
that couldn't be kept.