Reflection

Disclaimer: Same as last chapter

Due to the horrible, awful, terrible, awful, ghastly, and did I mention awful, ending of the last chapter, I decided I might as well continue this. Also factoring in my continuing Malfoy-fic obsession of the week, and the fact that my other fics are being bitchy and refuse to be written, this seemed like a good thing to do. Besides [smirk] I quite enjoyed writing the last chapter, so I thought I'd do another one, even though people probably think I'm some sort of sick weirdo...

More OOC joy – continuing over the summer (which is supposed to be between Draco's fifth and sixth year), actually from Lucius in shower. (Now that is a sight I'd like to see in the mornings!) Severus will also be making an appearance. Why, you ask? Urm...yeah, I actually haven't figured that out yet, but I will! Ahem...without further ado, I will cease my fangirlish ramblings and attempt to construe a half decent story. Yay me!



The shower soothed Lucius' nerves somewhat, and when he left the chilly surge of water ten minutes later, he had almost managed to completely scour the dream from his mind. He realised, in hindsight, that his image of his son's body was actually just a medley of former...'lovers', he supposed you would call them...and probably reflected little upon Draco. Yes, quidditch may well have built him up a little, and his growth spurt may well have placed him almost as tall as I...perfect height for kissing... No! Stop that! Lucius admonished himself harshly.

He decided that the best way to take his mind off of things would probably be to do some work. So, wrapping a towel firmly around his waist, he left the bathroom to go in search of a new set of clothes... His others would remind him far too much of all this...unpleasantness...

Keenly, he flung wide the doors of the wardrobe (that was not to his taste, but function had overruled fashion in this one area), and searched around for something that would give stark contrast to his former attire. The sad thing was...his life was one so full of suits and dress-robes...that finding anything not of the same ilk was proving difficult. I wonder if Narcissa has wormed her way around to emptying and then 'borrowing', the chest of drawers from the living room...?

Lucius, feeling foolish that he had not noticed whether or not the heavy piece of mission furniture still resided in his lounge, poked his head through the bedroom door to search for it. With a slight triumphant smile, he saw that it was. Then, after a furtive look around to check that he was indeed alone (for the dream had shaken him up more than he would care to admit, even to himself), he strode purposefully to the chest of drawers. Once before them, he paused a second, to try and remember which drawers contained which items.

Unable to do so, he started at the top drawer. Pulling it out, he found himself assaulted by family memories – some good, most not so good. There were the many bills for Narcissa's expensive clothes/ parties/ furniture/ friends, as well as receipts for the Nimbus2001s that Lucius had bequeathed on the Slytherin team. Next to these were official documents detailing the funds that Hogwarts needed, from when Lucius had still been a member of the governing council. In some respects, I'm glad that it's over, he mused, eyes moving over everything else.

His heart missed a beat as his eyes were captured by a pair of grey ones. But...not the grey eyes that he knew so well – not the grey eyes he had seen narrow in anger, and brighten in reigned mirth. No... It's him, Lucius thought bitterly. Why is this even here? I thought I told Narcissa to have the house-elves throw these old things away! He repressed a shudder at the family portrait before him. His father was an imposing figure...and, Lucius noticed with surprise (as he always did), just how little he looked like his own father.

The man was of average height, with a very broad build – dark brown hair lay in luxurious ringlets over dress-robes of sombre black. He did not smile, and one hand languorously paused on Lucius' shoulder, before being grasped by the woman in the picture (Lucius' mother). She was the one from whom Lucius' had inherited his looks...perhaps that was why father... Lucius shook his head, and studied his mother, remembering fondly that she, unlike Narcissa, had preferred the company of her family than the company of the socialites of high society. She smiled, and patted his younger self on the head, her own blonde hair swinging with the movement. The two adults then kissed, and Lucius shook his head in disbelief as his picture-self just pulled a face, and then stuck out his tongue at the outside world. To think...was I really ever that young? That...happy?

He looked away as that hand once again grasped onto his shoulder. That was a few months before he...before... A small sound came unbidden, and he bought a hand to his mouth to quell any further sound. He'd learnt not to cry...it was always worse when he cried... He closed the drawer, mentally shutting away memories of the past as he did so.

He moved onto the next drawer, which he found was full of baby paraphernalia. Does Narcissa ever throw anything away? Or do I just get all the rubbish she doesn't want? He wondered, still slightly peeved that that particular family portrait had not been...disposed of...as he had asked. A magical jack-in-the-box sprang open, a wriggling and seemingly live hand waggling its fingers in a gruesome way, before offering Lucius a bunch of beautiful lilies. He blinked, and accepted them, amused by the toy. I remember when Draco first played with this...he was so afraid. I think he ran away crying, if I remember rightly...

Lucius lay the sweet-smelling lilies on top of the dresser, and briefly tried to remember what flowers Draco used to get... I think they were daisies...I'm not sure... These safe memories were pleasing to Lucius, so he pored over the toys for a few minutes longer, coming up with Draco's first ever broom (which could be miniaturized for easy transport and storage) and a pack of self-shuffling cards, which Lucius had attempted to teach Draco how to play cheat with. However, Draco had never really understood the game, as he always used magic in order to see everyone else's cards to find out if they were cheating.

He smiled, and decided to keep the self-shuffling cards out. It wasn't like he had to do work today after all...he could just waste some time instead. The items he wanted taken from the drawer, he closed it, and moved onto the third one. Now, this one looked promising – he ransacked the interior, emerging from the pile of old garments with a pair of once black, now faded, jeans, and a casual Slytherin green shirt. I wonder if these will still fit me? He thought, holding them out before him. After all, I'm not as young...or thin...or even fit as I used to be...

I suppose there's no harm in trying the blasted things on he decided, taking his new/old clothes back into his bedroom. Then, a few seconds later, he hurried back into the living room and retrieved the lilies and self-shuffling cards. The lilies he placed into an empty Clarice Cliff vase that stood on the windowsill, and the cards he tossed lazily onto his bed. The vase filled up with water after he pointed his wand in its direction.

Those tasks done, he looked at the clothes he had thrown onto the bed, and wondered again if he dared even try them... His discarded dress trousers and white shirt on the floor spurred him on – he relieved himself of the luxuriously fluffy towel (which was, as with so many other things in the household, green), and pulled on a new pair of black boxers. This done, he felt free to stare at the clothes on his bed apprehensively...he literally couldn't remember the last time he had worn something so common as jeans. Yes, to be fair, they were incredibly expensive Levis, but they were still more common than any of his other fare.

And yet...they'll probably be more comfortable that what I usually wear, he thought. Throwing caution to the wind (which was, coincidentally, picking up at an alarming rate outside, not that Lucius could tell through the two foot thick walls of the ancient manor), he picked up the jeans and shirt, and meandered around his futon and chaise lounge in order to reach his long- unused dressing mirror. There, he held the jeans up against himself – they were still the right length of that he was certain, but whether they were still the right width was another matter entirely...

He undid the slightly stiff button, and then slid the zip open. Then, first his left leg, and then his right leg, were enveloped by the worn denim. In a most unrefined manner, he then proceeded to jump/wriggle into the garment, pulling the denim upwards and thrusting his legs downwards in an attempt to get the jeans on. To his surprise, (and delight), he managed to pull them on with minimal effort. When it came to doing them up, however, he had two major problems. One was his increased girth (from too many early- lunches and the like with his associates and acquaintances). The other was the fact that the zip had now managed to get itself stuck at the bottom of its entire course.

Breathing in slightly, Lucius was able to replicate the younger man who had worn these trousers. However, when he breathed out again, it was obvious that he had gained a few pounds. Not enough to make the trousers unbearable, but enough to make them rather...snug... Deciding he'd rather not risk life and possibly limb by wrestling with the infernal muggle zip, he wandered back to his bed, picked up his wand, and then went back over to the mirror. Using it as a guide, he aimed the wand in the general area of the zip, and tried to recall a spell that would be useful here.

"Lucius, what are you doing?" came a voice that was both amused and appalled. Lucius turned around, wand raised and ready to perform a curse, the other hand holding together the two sides of the broken zip. When he saw who it was, he relaxed (only slightly).

"The...zip..." he offered, by way of an explanation, managing to sound incredibly dignified. God, what must he have thought...especially from that angle...with my wand pointing at my crotch. Lucius could feel himself flush, and tried to quell his embarrassment.

An eyebrow crept diligently up the forehead of the other man in the room – tendrils of a wispy, smoke-like substance still hung in the air around him, showing that he had just apparated into Lucius' chambers. Then, he smirked at the predicament that Lucius was in.

"I don't see what's so amusing!" Lucius exclaimed, very annoyed that his morning was probably about to be thoroughly disturbed. This, on top of the fact that a Mister Severus Snape, snivelling coward a year younger than himself, was now a fully-grown, assured man, who could probably see his underwear right now... I swear, if this day gets any worse... Lucius wondered what on earth the black haired potions-master was even doing here, and voiced this query, still sounding irritated. "Pray tell, what are you doing here?"

"Well..." Severus moved towards Lucius, who had returned his attention briefly to the trousers he was beginning to lose any hope of doing up. "I just...felt like...dropping by..." he drawled, the usual cold smirk replaced by a genuinely amused smile. Lucius blinked, and looked up, registering the double entendre of Severus' words. ...I'm not really in the mood... he groaned internally, even as he turned his face upwards towards the ridiculously tall potions-master. He dropped his hands from the trousers altogether, reasoning that they'll probably go altogether soon anyway.

Severus surveyed him like a slowly-bubbling brew that he had made a thousand times, but never seemed to tire of. Lucius tried not to look too jaded by this whole scenario, and was glad when Severus stopped casting adoring glances, and actually claimed his mouth. Same old, same old...at least it'll take my mind off... Lucius pushed Severus away, causing the sallow-skinned man to blink in astonishment. Then, Lucius dragged him back, brutalizing the power he knew he had over the other. Brown eyes...not grey...brown...

Severus moaned piteously, and Lucius couldn't help the smile that graced his busy lips. He knew for certain that he was the only person who had ever induced that sound from the potions-master. Always so quiet, so demure...and yet...really a screamer. The thoughts were not intentionally cruel, but his current situation caused him to feel bitter. He knew that he should try to enjoy this...it had been a long time after all...but his mind just kept going over...

Thankfully, the other man bought him back to reality with a jolt – Severus had collapsed to his knees on the floor, and was working on the one button that Lucius had managed to do up. His dextrous fingers made short work of it, and then the denim was expertly pulled down. The Malfoy patriarch stayed still as a statue, for he knew if he moved, he would make an ungraceful meeting with the floor. As it was, he would have to stand in this poker state until the- Could have warned...me...oh...my...

Lucius decided thinking wasn't quite all it was cracked up to be, and instead entangled a hand in the black hair of the other man. Contrary to popular belief, the strands were not at all greasy, but in fact a luxuriously soft sensation against the fingertips. Lucius other hand went to steadying himself further. This was a complete contrast to Severus' hands – one momentarily reached to the floor so that he could rearrange his legs more comfortably. However, after that, both hands circled around to the bare skin of Lucius' backside.

It was always like this...Severus liked to believe he was in control. Severus was the one who always claimed afterwards that 'he was not gay. He was just experimenting'. If that's the case, he's been experimenting on me for nigh on twenty yea- Oh God! Lucius closed his eyes in utter ecstasy, tipping his head back so that his pointed pale face looked to the ceiling. So...long since...been touched like...this... His guilty pleasure lost all bearing as the climax of this wonderful play drew closer.

No matter what I say...he...he...knows... The best...fuck! Suddenly, his legs refused to give him the support that he needed in order to stand. Severus released his three point hold on Lucius, and caught him as he slumped down. His chest was heaving, and the potions-master smiled crookedly, tugging his lolling head towards him so that he could share Lucius' taste with the man himself.

His prying and talented tongue managed to tease a last little shuddering moan from Lucius. Then, it seemed, Severus was pleased – when he managed to get Lucius the silent, Lucius the pro, to make any sort of noise...he knew he'd done well. Like a faithful dog to his shepherd was Severus to Lucius...and he always liked to please. And, generally, he always did...

Not the one I...want... Lucius managed to think through the foggy haze that had descended on his euphoric mind. But, at that very moment, he knew he didn't really care. Because he couldn't have the one he wanted – he would never allow himself the same...liberties...as his father had taken. I swore I would not be like my father...and damn it, I won't be. Deciding to reward Severus for his charming passions, Lucius pulled back from the kiss, and gave him the warm smile he knew the man needed.

This was a rare occurrence, and he could see immediately the different emotions sparked in the other. Firstly, there was disbelief and annoyance, for Severus believed he was trying to trick him. Lucius placed an affectionate kiss upon closed lips. Then, the potions-master looked bewildered, which was an expression that didn't suit him. In order to rid him of it, Lucius entwined his arms around the younger's neck, and played distractedly with the fronds of hair there. Understanding, and a quickly hidden look of adoration then entered the normally stony gaze.

Very good, little serpent. At least one of us shall be happy. Lucius knew he should feel guilty...knew that he should either care more, or end this. But...he couldn't bear the thought of losing Severus, his Severus. His first project, and it had taken him a grand total of five months to lull the boy into the false belief that he was madly in love with him. Cruel, but terribly effective – especially when one believes it oneself at the time.

Alas, time and events have not been so kind to either of us... May as well make him believe...that, for this little time...love him... Just love him...he is easy to love. Not forbidden, no innocence lost... Love him. But Lucius couldn't bring himself to agree with this blatantly sensible idea. He was lost, and angry at himself for getting like this.

"Luc," he started at his old nickname.

"Yes, Sev?" he replied, using the fond nickname of the genius-man to convey the deep affection that he truly held for him. If only it could have extended to love...then this would all be so much...easier... He trailed one hand across the pale, sinewy neck of the other, until it rested upon his sallow cheek. It was easy to then trace the cheekbone down to his chin, and cup his thin cheek daintily. It was strange to see anyone with skin paler than himself, and he found himself highly fascinated. I'm sure he used to be darker than this...

"Can I..." suddenly, the dark haired man faltered; unsure of whether or not to continue with what he was going to say.

"What?" Lucius made to place an assuring kiss on his tightly drawn lips, but was evaded, so that his lips instead bumped against the cheek that was not cradled in his hand. "Sev?" he prompted.

"Can I stay?" shocking as it was, considering recent events, he sounded...shy...as he asked. A slight sympathetic flutter occurred in Lucius' stomach. He could remember times when he had been the one asking to stay...been the unsure one. It was indeed a long time ago when he had first been in love, but he knew the fear that Severus had of rejection. Especially now...things were really starting to escalate now...

Lucius didn't answer straight away, because he was dwelling on the past again. Severus took this as a polite refusal, and began to shuffle from the embrace that Lucius still held him in. The blond man tightened his hold, and glared warningly at Severus, shaking his head. "Don't go Sev...course you can stay," he mumbled, his thumb drawing small circles upon the startlingly smooth chin of his cheek.

Severus' eyes again went through the three stages. He searched to find any insincerity, and, finding none, seemed to try and fathom why he was being allowed to stay. Unable to come to any conclusion, he just smiled, enraptured by the Malfoy man. Lucius was internally fighting a battle between the feeling of betraying a love (not that it was a love he could ever admit), feeling cruel for doing this to the other, and the need for physical pleasure. The last won...but only because he had been so starved of it recently...

So, he slowly stood up, still slightly wobbly from Severus' opening statement, as it were. He kicked off the useless jeans, that had never gotten past the first stage of fastenings. Then, completely naked, he didn't even blush as he reached out and grabbed one of the fully clothed potion-master's hands. He wrapped his tapered and soft fingers over his calloused ones, and led him directly to the bed – it was a matter of seconds to sweep away the packet of cards and other things that shouldn't have been there.

Then, in one deft movement, he tugged the black haired man forwards, and then threw him onto the bed. In a movement more lithe than someone of his age deserved to be, Severus managed to turn so that he was facing up at Lucius, smiling another of his crooked smiles. Lucius smiled as well – he was so accustomed to that small gap in between Severus' front teeth, and the way that the left side of his mouth drooped a little, that now it was always a nice reminder of the normal things in life. He also enjoyed the prickling sensation that one gets when being watched, as the other rove brown eyes all over his form.

"Luc," Severus stretched out one arm, whilst lying back languidly against the sheets. Lucius accepted the hand, and allowed himself to be pulled down on top of the prone form of his former school-colleague. There was a pleading look in Severus' eyes now. "Luc, please..." he begged, so softly that Lucius only just caught it.

"I know," he answered back, whispering into the translucent-skinned ear of his current lover. "I know, Sev...shh..." He accompanied Severus' shaking hands to undo the robes that he wore. Underneath those were his customary black clothes – black trousers and a black tee-shirt. During the slightly awkward process of removing it over his head, Lucius felt his usual pang of envy. How in the hell is it that someone quite so scrawny can still retain an abdomen that you could probably break rocks on? Feeling rather old in comparison, he aspired to fully explore that region (as he had done countless times before) to try and find the secret behind this fabulous figure.

As soon as Lucius got to work, Severus closed his eyes, and grabbed handfuls of the sheets in his fists. It was always a game of theirs to see quite who could last the longest without a scream. Lucius always won of course, though Severus tried every time. He just didn't take into account that, whilst his tongue was indeed skilled...Lucius was the one who had mentored him. And there were still a few tricks that the Malfoy had selfishly kept completely to himself. Just so that he could make sure he always had the upper hand...

Otherwise, wouldn't the competition get a little repetitive?

Lucius teased Severus mercilessly – he would allow his hands to brush lightly, ever so lightly – arousing Severus, but not giving him any release. He was waiting...the other would have to break sometime. Meanwhile, he plied most of his attention to that ridiculously wonderful torso. This would have been good enough to grace Achilles or Odysseus...lucky...why can't I have...? He traced the defined pectoral muscles with a tongue that was pleased by the salty-sweet taste of the potions-master. He could even detect a little part of the potions Severus must have been brewing – a slightly bitter tang.

He moved up again, the potions-master writing, trying to force him down, give him release. Lucius decided he didn't want to...not quite yet. Instead, he fiercely attacked his left nipple with teeth bared – nipping sharply, and then licking in apology, to soothe the shooting pleasure-pain. A short glance upwards at the other's face showed that he was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He smirked...

Then, he trailed a line of kisses from the small rise made by his Adam's apple (which was moving rapidly to suit his breathing), to his navel. There, he sucked on the small indentation, before blowing on the area that was now wet with saliva. The cool air caused an intake of breath from Severus, but, alas, no sound. He's getting better...but...he won't be expecting... Lucius traced a hand softly, so that it tickled Severus' skin, down his side until it was at his jutting hip. Then, he pulled him up and over, so that he lay sideways on the bed.

Swiftly, Lucius crawled away, off of the bed, and round the other side. Then, he pulled Severus back close against him (being careful to keep his bottom half well away.) So, with torsos crushed together, Severus was keen to move back, but Lucius held him in place with a sharp, "Tsk, stay Sev!" He complied, and then Lucius continued to work his charms to rouse a cry from the other.

He placed one hand underneath Severus, so that it encircled his pelvis, and came back up just bare inches from his erection. There, he drew tantalizing patterns on the sensitive skin – the other hand he used to trace from bony shoulder to bony hip, pausing to play with a nipple along the way. His mouth went to Severus' neck, over a tiny old scar. He sucked on the flesh, and then bit down hard enough to draw blood, still working his tongue over the skin as well.

At the same time as this, he took hold of Severus' penis with the hand that wasn't trapped beneath him, squeezing and pulling at the same time. He could hear the scream just bubbling up in the potions-master's throat, and smiled as he heard him name screamed in the agony of ecstasy. I win, he thought with a triumphant smile, removing his hands from Severus altogether. The other hadn't yet received the release he wanted, and Lucius allowed him the pleasurable privilege of turning a Malfoy, one of the most powerful people in Britain, over onto his stomach, and having his way with him.

He did not cry out any names, though did allow himself a few choice moans as places he had nearly forgotten the existence of were pleasured. Severus, whilst ending his own agony, only prolonged Lucius, trying to win back a point. He only lightly touched Lucius' own erection, teasing him to the point that he considered allowing Severus his victory just so that he could have his liberation. But, Severus was by no means patient, and became quickly bored of his game, and gave the pleasure that was required.

When it was over, Severus collapsed upon him, and rolled them over so that they were both on their sides. There, Severus put his head upon Lucius shoulder, and sighed contentedly, kissing him lightly upon the jaw, and then snuggling close to him. Had Lucius not been so tired or worn down by the dream that morning, and the late nights the week had given him, he might have pulled away. It isn't fair to string him along like this...he might think I...love him...again... But, he was so tired by this point that all he could do was allowed the younger man the privilege of cradling him in his arms, like something precious not to be let go.


Draco was heinously pissed off. Almost as soon as he had reached his rooms in order to change, the weather had started to take a turn for the worse. When the clouds began to gather, he had not worried too much, and had tarried a long time in his room, polishing his Nimbus2001, and deciding whether or not to use the snitch that morning for practice. Eventually, he had decided against it, because, thanks to his dear father, he hadn't had enough sleep. As such, he knew he'd probably lose the blasted thing, and that would just be too embarrassing to bear.

He had lazily strolled through the manor, and had popped into his father's chambers on the way to tell him where he was going – however, Lucius had been asleep, so Draco had crept into his study and left him a note. On the way out, he had tripped over the foot rest, and had angrily kicked it out of the way before leaving. Then, he had returned to main landing, and strolled down the stairs, broom over his shoulder, whistling a tune he'd been listening to on his Wizard's Wireless. It was the new Weird Sister's song, and he swore when he reached the third verse, as he couldn't remember the tune.

Giving up, he tapped his foot impatiently as the house-elves heaved open the heavy front doors, and let in the glaring sunshine – rather, the dull- light as it came through the heavy clouds. As the clouds were still of the fluffy white variety, Draco was still hopeful that they would clear up. He carefully placed his broom on the floor, yelled the customary, "Up!" and then straddled the flying instrument.

Then, will the usual thrill that always came with flying, he kicked hard against the highly polished and brightly shining marble floor, and launched out into the day. The house-elves had watched him go, and had then set about closing the door again in order to keep the heat out and the cool air in.

The exhilaration of flight allowed Draco to temporarily forget the weather. He hadn't ridden his broom since returning home for the holidays, as his mother had dragged him off to Naples nearly every day in order to kit him out with new clothes for the coming year. What I want to know is, what was wrong with my old clothes? He'd never understood his mother's obsession with fashion, and he doubted he ever would...

Yet, when the first drops of rain began to fall, Draco was bought back to reality with an aggravating lurch. This was about three hours after he had escaped the confines of the manor, and he would be damned if he went back inside before he was done flying.

Of course, flying in thunderstorms is never the brightest thing to do. Alas, you never really know it's a thunderstorm until you hear the thunder...and, as sound travels more slowly than light, that means the lightning will have hit before you ever hear it. This was how it was with Draco, who was flying stupidly and dangerously high – the tail of his broom was struck, and burst into violent flame.

He looked around, and blanched at the sight. As well as he could manage considering the burning twigs really messed up his steering, he started to descend. He knew he was going too fast, but it was impossible to slow down now. He was plummeting straight towards the earth, and managed to nudge his steering enough so that he was headed towards the huge ornamental lake that stood in the informal gardens to the south of the manor.

Clenching his fists around the smooth handle of the broom, he braced himself for impact, cursing the day that a thunderstorm deigned to turn up in the middle of summer.


Lucius' eyes flickered open, and he looked wildly about without actually moving his head. He registered the pointed chin still leaning on his shoulder, and remembered his potions-master. He wondered what had woken him, and carefully pulled himself from the slumbering man's embrace. A rumble of thunder echoed around the room, and a few seconds later a flash of lightning, followed by another rumble followed.

Registering that he couldn't be bothered to even get dressed, because Severus would probably wish for more later, Lucius made his way into the study. He had a fine vintage port housed in a decanter in there, and he could do with a stiff drink.

Because of the storm outside, the room was heavy with gloomy darkness. He pushed open the door, and then stepped inside. With a sickeningly familiar movement, his knees collided with the hard edge of the footrest, and he toppled onto the floor. "Fuck!" he yelled into the carpet – that was a lot more painful when not wearing clothes! Cringing slightly, for his head was now throbbing in a painful manner, he flinched at the nest thunder clap.

Realising that it wasn't his son's voice, he relaxed, and sat up. He spied a piece of paper on his desk that had not been there before...his quill also lay on the desk rather than in the inkwell. Eyebrows knitted, he stood up, and moved to read the note.

Gone for ride on broom. Will be back for lunch at two.
Draco.


Immediately, Lucius' mind clicked. His broom, the storm! He knew now why he had woken up. Not having enough time to bother getting dressed conventionally, he ran into the living room, waking Severus up as he raced past the bedroom, and grabbed his wand. Severus called after him blearily, but he was far too panicked to pay him any heed. He swished his wand in what he hoped was the right pattern, and mumbled a few choice words. Trousers appeared, but there was a pitiful lack of shirt. No matter, I'll make do without. He grabbed his own broom (actually a vintage Shooting Star model – more for show than for speed), and hurried down to the ground floor of the manor.

The house-elves, on seeing their master, threw the doors open in but a few seconds, and, in a flash, Lucius had sped out into the pouring rain. Severus had followed him, having magicked himself back into his clothes. He stood on the doorstep, not daring to venture out into the rain that was pouring down from the sky with a vengeance. He followed the swiftly diminishing speck that was his love interest for the past twenty odd years, and wondered exactly what he was doing...


Hah! I lied, it's turning into a full length fic now. Curses... Again, apologies for my inability to write sex scenes. This storyline is so clichéd that it amuses me no end. [Smirk].

Review it...or...uh...I'll update even more slowly than I normally do.

LOL, harsh threat, ni?

Soda