CB: Adoration and devotion to all who reviewed. Smothers in hugs And a huge, huge, HUGE thank you to Ncascanuez again, for being the almighty plot beta. This fic is dedicated to you now – enjoy!
Thanks to:
Starrrr, Roz, LunasStar, HappyDappyDrunk, empath89, Dawn Aurilain, Lady Geuna, Jo, moonanddogstar, cindered-hope, Lyth Taeraneth, Hell's Angel – Heaven's Demon, Wesleigh, LBx, Squishy Gamgee, KeyvieSnape, alana chantelune, Dr Titou Moony, Wan wingu no tenshi, The Wishmasters, Mithua, Shadow Cat17, Orange Horiz0ns, OrA-ShiNi-gi, JWGrey, Quick-fix, The all mighty and powerfulM, Lilsi, the-only-innocent, moonylover2000, haruechan, Resisting Arrest, Amaroq, penny, rayvern, Shiny Ryuichi Sakuma, BlueEyedDemon1, Plushii, Drake and Jang, driven to insanity, XxMercuryTearsxX, Yorkshire Pudding.
'I sing of arms and of the man, fated to be an exile…'
- Virgil's 'Aeneid', Book One
"Once there was a little brown jug, little brown jug, little brown jug…"
Peter buried his face in his hands, letting out a low groan as James continued to sing, half hanging upside down off one of the sofas in the Gryffindor Common room. Giving up on his Transfiguration homework, the shorter boy shoved it away from him and glared at the musical Quidditch Captain, who had moved on from a fast-paced (and off-key) rendition of some muggle song, and had launched into 'A Wizard And His Staff' – a song that had been banned some three years previously thanks to a Yule Ball, McGonagall and several bowls of spiked punch. (Peter hadn't gone to the ball that year, but he had heard all about it from Sirius, complete with exclamations such as "And it was this big…" or "Red as our bed curtains – absolutely furious…" – hand gestures, much to his dismay, had been included.)
"Theeeeee…" James began as the last of the third year Gryffindors gave up on their homework, collected their books together and stormed out of the common room, shooting dark looks at the warbling menace still perched precariously on the furniture.
"James?"
"Wizard's staff has a…sorry, what?" Pulling himself upright, James raked a hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses. "Yes, Pete?"
"Do you think you could SHUT UP?" Peter's voice echoed around the now empty room and his friend winced, surprised at the sudden outburst.
"Sorry, I was just practicing."
Peter rolled his eyes. "For what exactly?"
"Ahem." Pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket with a flourish, James peered at it dramatically. "Calling all students," he read, raising the pitch of his voice in a fair imitation of Professor McGonagall. "There will be an inter-house music competition at the end of this term. The idea of this is to celebrate the cultural differences between the muggle and magical worlds of music and song. All students interested in entering the competition should see me for an audition time before the end of the week." Dropping the paper he raised an eyebrow. "See? I think I could go in for it."
"James," Peter's voice was carefully neutral, "I don't think Professor McGonagall is going to appreciate a rendition of, er, 'A Wizard And His Staff', somehow. Call it instinct but, um, might that not raise several rather…bad memories?" He winced as James practically swelled in righteous indignation.
"One mistake, Peter, one mistake! And you condemn me for it! Professor McGonagall will have surely forgotten about that by now. Besides, it is a time-honoured song, sung in the tradition of all generations of pupils at Hogwarts." He sniffed, disapprovingly. "She can't bar me from singing my piece – I'm a credit to the Gryffindor spirit!"
"Who's a credit to the Gryffindor spirit?" Sirius asked as he pushed open the portrait hole, absently wiping his hands on a piece of cloth as he did so. "Some third-years were just talking about you," he added, flopping down on the sofa next to James. "You're not exactly popular at the moment – something about making an awful lot of noise? Caterwauling, in fact?" He grinned as James scowled, then flung the piece of dirty cloth at Peter.
"How was detention?" Peter asked mildly, removing the cloth from the top of his book and placing it neatly to one side.
"Awful. Maple supervised me in the end, and she made me scrub out the toilets as well." Sirius' teeth were bared as he curled his lip in disgust. "Honestly, there's got to be some kind of law against detentions like that!"
"Well, you did hit Snape," Peter said philosophically. "There's definitely a law against that."
Sirius turned to James. "You told him about that?"
James shrugged. "Of course. He would have found out tomorrow, anyway, when McGonagall comes storming over to our table and murders you in an orgy of blood, sausages and beans." He sighed. "Hope she doesn't ban you from the Quidditch team. That's what she said she'd do if she found out we had made trouble yet again."
"I'd forgotten about that!" Sirius moaned, raking a hand through his hair. "Do you think I could bribe her?"
"Not likely, mate. Not unless you've got enough money to but Hogwarts, the grounds and Hogsmeade into the bargain. I've heard she's that expensive."
"Speaking of the grounds," Peter broke in, "have either of you seen that new tree that Professor Maple was going on about yesterday in Herbology?"
"Which one's that?" James tilted his head to one side, looking interested. Sirius merely shrugged.
"A Whomp-something. It was planted this year." Peter's eyes lit up. "Apparently it hits you if you get too close to it."
"They're probably using it to punish students," Sirius muttered darkly. "I bet the tie you to the trunk and let the tree bludgeon you to death."
"R-really?" Peter's eyes widened.
"He's joking, Pete," James said soothingly. "Are you sure they've planted one here? Isn't it a little…ah…dangerous? What if someone runs into it by accident?" He frowned, looking thoughtful. "Terrible tragedy if it happened to one of the Slytherins…"
"Especially Snape," Sirius muttered, from where he had retreated to the far end of the sofa with one of Peter's textbooks. "Tragedy if he met with a fatal accident. Dear me, wouldn't that be a shame." Scowling, he buried his nose in the book, whilst Peter and James exchanged knowing glances.
"Anyway," Peter said, breaking the slightly awkward silence, "I was just wondering if either of you knew where it was – I haven't seen it, and thought it might be worth a look. Could be useful in our NEWT exam – we could mention it in the answers or…something."
"I haven't seen it personally," said James, swinging his legs, "but Joanna said she saw it. It's quite near to the Forbidden Forest – apparently they thrive in darker areas like that…I think." He shrugged then winced as Sirius shifted, accidentally kicking his knee. "Watch where you're putting those things, Sear," he complained, then turned back to Peter. "Want to go have a look at it?"
Peter nodded and stood up, snapping shut his textbook and stacking his work neatly. "Alright. It's something to pass the time, anyway. Besides," he shot James a sly look, "it'll keep you away from those third-years. They looked like they could have cheerfully murdered you."
"Oy, oy, I wasn't that bad!" James protested, flinging up his hands in defence. "Besides, I was only practising, that hardly means I'm going to have it perfect first time, now does it?"
"Practising for what, exactly?" Sirius casually turned a page of his book, then peered over the top of it.
"Inter-house music competition." James thrust the paper at his friend, who caught it, peering closely at the message. "Thought it might be a good way to get back in McGonagall's good books," he added, smirking as Peter muttered a disgusted 'figures…'. "Besides, with one hundred and fifty house points going to the winner, I think that whoever wins that will pretty much win the house cup this year."
"A…music competition," Sirius stated, resting the paper between the pages of his book. "Hmm, sounds like a bit of a laugh, at any rate." He smiled, suddenly. "Maybe I'll enter it."
"Doing what?" Peter eyed him sceptically.
"Oh, I'll think of something." Sirius shrugged noncommittally, then turned back to the textbook.
"Anyway, are we going to find that tree or not?" James demanded, turning towards the portrait hole. "Some fresh air will do you the power of good, Pete. Coming, Sear?" He asked over his shoulder, and Peter scrambled to catch up with him.
"No, think I'll stay here and read this." Sirius hefted the book and nodded towards the portrait hole. "You guys go – I'm not really that interested in a plant, anyway. Even if it does hit people." He smiled as James rolled his eyes, then waited impatiently for his friends to exit the common room. As soon as they were gone, he slid the notice about the upcoming competition out and stared at it, grey eyes thoughtful.
AaAaAaAa
"I really, really don't understand that kid!" Mars gulped the last of his tea and banged his mug back on the table. "I mean, fighting! With a fellow student! And right where he knew he would get caught. I mean, I can understand it if it was a private scuffle in a back passage somewhere, but in full view?" He sighed and sat back, rubbing his forehead wearily. "It's just… well, if it was anyone else I'd say it was stupidity."
Flitwick made a sympathetic noise. "The tragedy is that he is intelligent," he piped, nibbling on a chocolate biscuit. "He just seems to devote his whole energy to wreaking havoc as opposed to setting an example."
"Even Potter's improved over the past year," Professor Maple added, viciously dunking a protesting gingerbread man into her cup of coffee. "But Black…" she tutted and bit the unfortunate biscuit's head off, cutting short a last protesting shriek.
Remus winced and sunk lower into his own armchair by the staff room fire. The subject since his arrival had been none other than the topic he most wished to avoid: Sirius Black. The other teachers had wasted no time in expressing their opinions ('Again,' he thought sourly) of the errant student, but he had hitherto remained silent – he was not in any position to judge.
It was only a blessing that McGonagall hadn't heard of the latest offence yet.
As if lured by his thoughts, the door to the staff room flew open and Professor McGonagall breezed in, carrying an armload of books. She smiled gratefully as Mars leapt to his feet and took them from her, depositing them on the coffee table, and she sank heavily into one of the armchairs nearest to Remus. The sports teacher sat down again as well, just as Dumbledore ambled into the room, and the conversation resumed.
"I sometimes wonder if it's something to do with his upbringing," Mars said, absently fiddling with a strand of golden hair that had escaped from the short tail he customarily wore it in. "I mean, maybe the boy's told to behave like this."
"Hardly likely," Professor Sinn, the Divinations teacher who was known only by his last name, frowned. "We don't get half the trouble from the other purebloods."
"I assume," McGonagall cut in wearily, "that we are talking about our erstwhile student, Mr Black?"
Sinn and Mars exchanged brief glances whilst Professor Maple became suddenly engrossed in her coffee. Flitwick stared absently at the ceiling and Remus, sensing trouble, shrank still further into his seat, noticing the way McGonagall's lips pursed. Dumbledore sighed and raised one white eyebrow.
"I take it this is about the fight he had with young Mr Snape?" he asked mildly.
A hiss came from Professor McGonagall's armchair. "Really, Albus! Do you have to sound so…calm about the whole thing? Are you really informing me that a member of my own house assaulted another student?" She sighed, despite her evident irritation and reached for the box of biscuits, biting into one with unnerving ferocity. "That boy is hopeless, hopeless! He's a lost cause. I should just ban him from the Quidditch Team and have done with him."
"I hardly think that's a wise idea. Don't you agree, Remus?"
All attention suddenly turned to the werewolf, who cleared his throat, silently cursing Dumbledore in every different language he could think of. "Er…well. I wouldn't say Sirius is a lost cause…" he began hesitantly.
"Rubbish." Professor Sinn leant forwards, his normally cheerful brown eyes sparking with indignation. "Black's caused nothing but trouble in my lessons since he was eleven!" He scowled and folded his arms, not bothering to brush away the black strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes with the abrupt movement.
"Really, Professor, I must insist you let Remus put forward his view." Dumbledore held up his hand, forestalling the anticipated argument from Sinn, who bit his lip and sat back, earning himself a consoling pat on the shoulder from Mars.
"And, um, I don't think taking away his Quidditch privileges is the way to sort him out," Remus continued nervously. "I think that Sirius is the type of student who will rebel against punishment. I think," he added, suddenly inspired, "he gets more than enough of that at home." He coughed, embarrassed, as Dumbledore nodded, blue eyes intent on his face. "And, um, as I said, I don't think Sirius is deliberately bad. I think it's the way he has been brought up to behave and, er, it's his way of expressing himself. Um…" he trailed off and dubiously looked at the rest of the staff, who were all staring at him as if he had grown an extra head.
All, that is, except Dumbledore.
"I'm glad to hear you say that, Remus," he said gently. "I, too, think Sirius has great potential and that if we deal with him in the wrong way, we will undoubtedly drive him to greater lengths to break away from society." He beamed, suddenly. "I'm glad that my instinct was correct when I asked you to keep an eye on him."
'Oh please, please god, let me crawl into a hole and die,' Remus thought. What he said was, "Oh, er, thank you."
McGonagall frowned. "I still don't think we should let him get away without a proper punishment. Fighting in the school is a serious offence. He should at least be given a detention – I refuse to allow a student to get away without some form of reprimand."
Mars looked up from where he had been peering over Professor Sinn's shoulder as the other man explained a theory on parallel universes. "I did give him a detention," he said, having half-listened to the conversation. "I made him clean out the locker room by hand."
"I can verify that," Professor Maple added. "I oversaw his detention."
"Really?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were asked to do that, Remus?"
"Oh…er." Remus coughed. "I started to, but I was so exhausted what with…everything…that Professor Maple agreed to take over for me." He thought he saw Maple wink at him out of the corner of his eye, and swallowed, hard.
"Ah," Dumbledore sat back looking satisfied. "Well, next time don't let this old codger bully you into it if you're that tired, eh Remus?" He smiled absently at him, then turned to look at McGonagall, who was still fuming. "A game of chess, my dear?"
McGonagall nodded and for a while silence reigned in the staff room, broken only by the occasional cry from an unfortunate chess piece, or the quiet murmuring from the corner Mars and Sinn were in, poring over the dusty tome explaining the theory of parallel universes.
The peace was shattered a few precious minutes later, however, when Flitwick – who had been reading the paper – sat bolt upright, a shocked squeak escaping his lips. McGonagall and Dumbledore looked up from the chessboard, eyebrows raised; Sinn and Mars paused in their quiet debate and even Remus sat up straighter, curiosity overcoming his wish for peace and quiet. Only Professor Maple continued to drink her coffee, unperturbed.
"I say," Flitwick's voice was breathless, "listen to this!"
"Yesterday Mr K. L. Staed was sentenced to five years in Azkaban. This sentence was pronounced after a hearing that lasted several days. Staed – a Professor at Durmstrang – was arrested last month following an allegation made by the parents of one of his pupils. The thirty six year old man had, apparently, been engaging in an illicit affair with one of his older female students.
"Following this allegation an inquiry was made and Staed was arrested on justified grounds. Whilst the girl was of age, the court decided against releasing Mr Staed due to the fact that such a relationship is illegal. Mr Staed's lawyer is expected to release a statement to the press shortly, concerning the appeal, which is already scheduled for February next year…"
Flitwick trailed off and looked up, wide-eyed. "Isn't that Kane?" he asked.
Dumbledore held out his hand for the paper and studied the picture next to the report. "I believe you're right," he said, sounding mildly surprised. "Really, he's the last person I would have expected to end up like this." He blinked, peering down at the paper from behind his half moon spectacles. "How very strange," he mused into the thick silence of the staff room, "I always thought Kane was a remarkably sensible young man." He sighed and hand the paper back to Flitwick. "Such is the way of the world."
Professor Maple placed her coffee cup back on the table with a soft thud. "I saw the article this morning," she said quietly. "A bit of a shock, that. I'm surprised Kane would do something so…stupid." Her lips twisted in a small smile. "And he was such a bright boy – I was proud to call him my pupil and later my colleague." She sighed. "And now to see how far he's fallen…"
"It's his own fault," Mars was still lounging casually on the sofa next to Sinn, who was carefully avoiding looking at anyone in the room. "If he was stupid enough to get involved with a pupil, he deserves everything he gets."
"Isn't that a little bit of a heard-hearted attitude to take?" Professor Maple demanded, glancing up absently as several more members of staff drifted in, including Professor Tone the old Ancient Runes teacher.
"Not really." Mars folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "It is incredibly foolish to get involved with a student – the laws are quite specific on that. If Staed didn't pay close enough attention to what could happen if he was discovered…well, that's his loss."
"Sinn, what do you think?" Professor Maple appealed to her colleague.
Sinn's young face took on a carefully neutral expression. "Well…" he said dubiously, "it's a little difficult to judge, not having had experience being in the same situation as our unfortunate ex-professor. However, whilst I would say that it was stupid of him to become involved with this girl, I fear it hardly warrants five years in Azkaban." He sighed as Mars shot him a furious look, and shrugged. "But I suppose that punishment is there to deter people from doing exactly what Kane did."
Remus turned his face away to stare into the fire, his cheeks burning. Fear and guilt trickled ice-cold down his spine. Someone else…someone else had been in exactly the same situation as he, and they had fallen prey to temptation. The full weight of what he had done rested heavily in his mind and he knotted his fingers together, nervously. It felt as though if any of the other Professors were to look at him, they would see his guilt instantly. It had to be written all over his face, for the world to see, judge and condemn. Nobody could possibly miss the panic in his eyes…
"Remus?" Mars had risen from the sofa and was gently shaking his shoulder. He nearly leapt backwards in surprise when Remus started so violently that the whole armchair shuddered. "Good grief, what has you so worked up?"
"Oh…nothing." Remus bit his lip, praying that his nerves wouldn't show too much.
Mars shrugged. "Sinn and I were about to go down to the kitchens to grab a bite to eat, then head off to do some marking in a quiet corner somewhere." He grinned and indicated the other teachers, most of who were still arguing over the plight of the hapless Kane. "I figured you wouldn't really want to stay here with this lot, so why not come with us? I know it's not the most exciting offer in the world, but…"
"Thanks, I'd love to." Remus cut him off and stood up abruptly, unable to take the suffocating atmosphere in the staff room any longer.
"Wonderful," Sinn was peering over Mars's shoulder, brown eyes kind. "Maybe you can show us that Boggart you received today?"
Remus choked. "Er, no…um. I'm afraid….er…" he muttered, scrambling for an excuse. "Sorry." He finished, having not come up with anything."
Sinn and Mars looked at one another then shrugged.
"Go and grab your stuff," the sports teacher said.
AaAaAaAa
Most of the students were in the Great Hall having dinner when Sirius finally emerged from the common room, Peter's textbook tucked under one arm. James had been back briefly to see if he wanted to go down to dinner with them, but Sirius had waved him off, promising he'd be down later, but that he had something important to do first. He'd then trotted off as fast as possible to find Professor McGonagall and sign up for the inter-house music competition.
She had looked at him with pursed lips, her expression sour and he had guessed immediately that she had heard about what had been dubbed as 'The Snape Incident'. Surprisingly though, she hadn't commented, merely asked him to place his name on the register and informed him that his audition would be on Friday. If he was late, she had said coldly, he would automatically fail the audition, and would he please make sure he brought anything he needed? The school could not provide for him.
He had nodded like a good boy and hurried away back to the common room before she could change her mind.
Striding down the corridor lost in thought, he nearly collided with the dark figure who emerged from a side passage. There was a startled exclamation of surprise, and he found himself looking into the cool grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy.
"Sirius? What on earth are you doing rushing down a corridor like a black-robed demon?" An appraising gaze was dragged over his body, and Sirius stiffened defensively. "I would have thought you'd be at dinner."
"I wasn't hungry." Sirius's voice was a pool of quiet politeness. "Besides, I think I should be asking you why you're here. Didn't you leave last year? Or did you like the place so much you felt you had to come back?" He smiled as Malfoy raised an elegant blond eyebrow.
"Why, I'm here to represent my father on the board of governors. He's ill and, sadly, couldn't make it. So I was sent to keep an eye on that fool of a headmaster." He smoothed his black robes and tucked a strand of platinum blond hair behind one ear. "Surely you'd know that, though? I would have thought your mother or one of your cousins would have informed you of the situation."
"Sadly my mother's missives have been lacking detail, of late," Sirius replied coolly, his fingers tightening on Peter's textbook. "I'm afraid the entire content has been about my own shortcomings, not those of her…friends."
"Ah, I'd heard about that." Lucius' smile widened. "You are in a bit of trouble, aren't you? You're getting quite a…reputation at home; something of a muggle lover, or so I am led to believe. Sad, I would have credited you with more taste than that, Black. After all, it wasn't that long ago that we were friends."
"I would hardly have called us that." Sirius bowed his head, his hair spilling around his face like a black curtain, hiding his expression. "Perhaps 'acquaintances' is more accurate."
"Well, your mother approved of our…acquaintance." Lucius thoughtfully tapped his chin with a finger. "And this was only…what, six months ago? How time passes quickly – you have changed so much in such a short space of time." Something sparked in his eyes and he leant forwards, voice quieter. "You've grown, Sirius Black. You are far more a man than the boy I spent the summer with. Look at you – burning with righteous anger and your own opinions." He laughed as Sirius hissed under his breath, still refusing to look up. "But you are still so much fun to antagonize."
"I am not your toy, Malfoy," Sirius's voice was vibrating with barely concealed anger. "You think I am something created solely for the purpose of amusing you. You take great pleasure in humiliating me then teaching me self-worth, only to take it away again. But you forget," he lifted his head to stare at Lucius, grey eyes burning, "I am not your plaything. I am a Black, and as such, I deserve to be treated with respect."
There was a long, drawn out pause until finally, Lucius spoke.
"Well, well," he said softly, maliciously, "it seems that the silly little boy really has grown up. Your mother will be delighted when I tell her what a fine heir to the Black tradition you have become. Tell me, do your little friends see you like this? I'm sure they appreciate your attitude." He smirked as Sirius stiffened, sensing he had hit a raw nerve. "It must be so difficult for you, Sirius, having to associate with the likes of…them."
"Listen you half-witted, in-bred –"
"Is there a problem?" The mild voice behind the two men made them jump, Lucius stiffening and Sirius spinning around so fast that he nearly fell over.
Remus was standing there, Professor Fogarty and Professor Sinn lurking behind him, both trying not to look too interested and failing miserably. The young teacher raised an eyebrow, folding his arms as he took in the scene before him. His gaze slid over Lucius to Sirius and paused, turning thoughtful. His lips twitching he took a step forwards, turning back to Lucius as he schooled his face into a polite smile.
"I'm terribly sorry, I hope he wasn't bothering you."
"No, no," Malfoy's expression changed swiftly from one of surprise to something unreadable. "He was just…telling me where I might find the Headmaster's office."
"It's just down the hall, but unfortunately I don't have the password."
"I do," Sinn said quietly, brushing past Remus. "Would you like to follow me?" He looked over his shoulder pointedly. "Coming, Professor Fogarty?"
Sirius watched worriedly as the three older men retreated down the corridor, before he turned to look up at Remus, expression half guilty, half defiant. He nearly gulped at the teacher's serious expression, and nearly shrank back against the wall, only reminding himself in time that he was a good few inches taller and was not someone who was intimidated easily. Not at all, in fact – even if Remus was looking at him as though he wanted to rip his throat out.
"I wasn't actually bothering him," he said sulkily.
"I know." The fierce gaze softened slightly and Remus leant casually against the wall, hands in his pockets. "But I think it might be just as well if you tried to avoid Mr Malfoy. I've heard…quite a lot about him. He doesn't strike me as the most forgiving or nicest of men." He half smiled then looked away quickly as Sirius' teeth flashed in a cautious grin.
"He…um…actually he was the one who stopped to talk to me."
"I figured as much."
There was a long, awkward pause, until finally Remus pushed away from the wall, taking a deep breath. "Well, I'll see you in class, Mr Black. Make sure you've done that essay, won't you?"
"Wait –"
But Remus had already turned and walked off down the corridor.
AaAaAaAa
He dreamt of soft skin sliding against his own, the heat marking him like a brand – burning. Soft, sheer pleasure as clever fingers skipped across his collarbone, slid up his neck, buried – almost roughly – in his hair. He felt the warm rush of air across his mouth and whimpered, lips already tingling and sensitive, aching to be touched, caressed.
"Quiet now." Gold eyes were looking down at him, molten, languid. "If you're not quiet they'll hear us."
A soft-rough tongue swiped across one stiffened nipple and he cried out in surprise, hips bucking sharply against the warm weight that straddled him. Strong, graceful hands pushed him sharply down again, even as teeth gently worried the skin of his shoulder.
"First lesson: always do as the teacher tells you." Two fingers found his other nipple, pinched it; twisted. "Second lesson: never speak unless spoken to." Soft bites smattered his skin and the lithe body above him shifted, sliding slowly downwards as the other man purred into stomach. "Third lesson: you pay attention." The rasp of a tongue against sweat-slicked skin and he whimpered, writhing helplessly.
"Do you understand me?" The gaze was piercing, devouring, and it was all he could do not to moan – plead desperately for something, anything. Anything that would end this aching need that raged throughout his body – that made him pant like the whore his mother always told him he was. He whined, a pitiful, desperate sound at the back of his throat, and was rewarded when lips descended on his own.
The savage meshing on mouths was so far removed from the sweetness he had expected that he nearly cried out in surprise, arching up into that wonderful heavy weight that pinned him down. Lips smothered his and he sighed as hungry teeth nibbled, before a slick tongue plundered his mouth, skittering across his teeth before sliding against his own tongue, flickering teasingly before darting away.
"You're a fast learner, Mr Black."
"I…always aim to please…" His own voice, roughened, heavy – dripping with sin and sex as the gold eyes watching him flared desire crackling in them, sending sparks shooting down his spine in response. Just that look and he wanted…oh how he wanted. So easy, to make him fall after all, so easy to submit, to be taken, to beg and plead until he had no breath left, to wail until his needs were satisfied.
Slender, clever fingers found his cock, ran calloused pads over it, tearing a moan from deep in his throat.
"Sirius…" the harsh pant was warm against his mouth.
"Sirius…"
"SIRIUS"
Sirius yelped, his body jerking upright as the yell sounded close to his ear. Half tangled in his covers, he paused, panting as he stared around the room, wild-eyed. On the floor by his bed, James winced, rubbing his head, which he had hit against the bedside table. Sirius's abrupt awakening had made him jump so much that he had staggered, tripping over a carelessly tossed shoe.
"Ouch…" he muttered, still rubbing his forehead, and crawled onto his knees. "Sear, are you ok?"
Sirius blinked, breath coming harshly as he struggled to get his rebellious body back under control. As the hungry ache in his belly subsided, he sighed, raking a hand through sweat-tangled hair that had escaped from the customary plait he wore it in to sleep. "Sorry, James, what?" he asked distractedly, still staring at a point beyond the end of his bed, eyes vague and slightly disorientated.
James repeated the question.
"Yeah, fine." Sirius rubbed his eyes wearily.
"Well you were thrashing in your sleep and whimpering like you were in pain." James stood up, folding his arms, looking worried.
"No, I'm fine." Sirius smiled weakly and peered at the window, which was already showing the grey light of early morning. "We'll need to get up, in a minute." He sighed and looked at James. "Sorry for waking you so early."
"Hey, not a problem." James thumped him lightly on the arm, grinning, although his eyes remained concerned. "Getting up early is probably good for me…somehow." He sighed and peered over his shoulder at the dark shape of Peter – still fast asleep in his bed. "Think we should wake him up?" he snickered and edged towards Peter's bed. "Maybe a nice bucket of icy water would do the trick."
"Nah, one of us deserves some sleep." Sirius jerked his head towards the bathroom. "Go on, you jump in the shower and I'll go after you. Maybe we'll even be down to breakfast on time for once."
"Heaven forbid!" James gasped, placing a hand dramatically to his chest, before scooping up his towel, which had been dumped unceremoniously on the floor by his bed the previous evening. "If we were early we'd give McGonagall a heart attack." He paused, looking serious. "Could you live with the guilt of killing a teacher, Sirius? It would be an awful wicked thing to do."
"No, wouldn't be able to cope." Sirius forced a cheerful note into his voice, face frozen in a smile until James had gone into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Letting the smile drop from his face, he buried his head in his hands, groaning.
"What in Merlin's name is wrong with me?" he hissed from between gritted teeth. "I'm turning into some kind of…of…freak!" He groaned and pushed aside his bedcovers, wincing as cold air began to wrap around his body. "It was just a dream," he said firmly, ignoring the cold flagstones under his feet. "Just a dream, and a dream is nothing but your brain processing information from the previous day. Things just got a bit mixed up in there, that's all."
Standing, he strode over to the mirror that stood at one end of the dormitory in case of hair emergencies 9which, in James's case was every day). Staring at his pale, wide-eyed reflection, he scowled. "Just a dream," he repeated, testing his forehead against the cool glass.
"Just a dream."
AaAaAaAa
"Well I hope the other students are better than that one," Professor McGonagall muttered under her breath to Remus as she firmly crossed Francis Alders' name from her list. "If they're as bad as him, I'm afraid Gryffindor has no hope." She pursed her lips, shooting a narrow glare at a group of boys standing in once corner of the Transfiguration classroom. "Honestly, I should have put 'Talent a must' on the notice."
Remus laughed quietly and handed her the next piece of music. "This one's for Jeremy," he said, nodding towards a fair-haired boy who was waiting nervously in the middle of the room. "Give him a chance, I've heard he's good."
The auditions for the inter-house music competition had begun late that afternoon with over forty applicants waiting hopefully in Professor McGonagall's classroom. Remus had been bullied into helping and he'd found, as the evening wore on, that he was actually enjoying himself. His colleague may have had high standards, but she had a keen ear for music and so far only three students had been picked to represent Gryffindor.
"Who's after Jeremy?" Remus inquired, as McGonagall put a tick next to the small boy's name and smiling at him, motioning him over to one side.
"Er…" The other teacher peered at the list, her eyes widening in surprise. "James Potter."
"Potter?" Remus' eyebrows rose in surprise and he peered around the classroom until he spotted James, lurking in one of the corners, a vaguely disgruntled expression on his face as he ignored a group of third years who kept glancing over at him and giggling.
"Potter!" McGonagall's voice cracked sharply and James stiffened, swallowing, before he strode into the centre of the room. "Do you have an accompaniment?" she asked, tapping her pen against the desk as James shook his head. "No? Then begin, please."
As James launched into a rendition of 'A Witch's Cat', Remus found himself becoming more and more surprised. James was, despite early slip-ups, rather good. He stood with his head raised, back straight, eyes fixed defiantly on McGonagall. His voice was a good, strong tenor that echoed faintly around the classroom and he managed to stay precisely in key until the very last note, which he held for a remarkable period of time.
"Well," McGonagall said when he had finished. "I never thought you had it in you, Potter." She nodded towards the far side of the room. "Go and sit with your housemates, please. You'll start rehearsals on Monday." Smiling slightly as James let out an exuberant whoop, she turned to Remus. "Well, I am impressed. I honestly never believed that boy capable of anything that didn't involve mischief." She laughed, almost giddily. "Now if only Black shows some potential…"
"Sirius?" the bottom dropped out of Remus's stomach. "Sirius is auditioning?"
"Oh, yes. He was quite insistent about it, in fact. Despite my…reservations, I decided to allow him the benefit of the doubt. In fact," McGonagall peered at her list, "he's the last but one. Mind you, if he doesn't turn up…" She let the sentence hang and turned back to the students, nodding at a pale girl, who moved towards the piano.
Sirius was auditioning. Remus swallowed and wondered how suspicious it would look if he fled the classroom. Very, he realised with a sinking feeling. He'd just have to sit it out and pray that the boy didn't do anything too stupid. Maybe if he sat at the back of the room…but no, McGonagall needed him to sort out the music. He sighed and sank lower into his seat, wishing the earth would swallow him whole.
The time passed all too quickly, and it wasn't until James let out a loud "SEAR!" that Remus registered most of the students had finished their auditions and Sirius Black had, in fact, just walked into the classroom.
He was dressed casually in the baggy black t-shirt and dark denim jeans. His hair was pulled back from his face in a tail, leaving only the shorter, wispy bits to drift around his face. His grey eyes seemed darker, more intense as he hefted a case in one hand, and Remus realised with a start that it was because of the thin layer of what looked suspiciously like kohl, lining his eyes. On anyone else, he thought faintly, it would have looked ridiculous. It wasn't fair, it simply was. Not. Fair. The kohl made Sirius's skin seem all the paler as well, he appeared almost like a wraith – insubstantial, made of moonlight and shadows.
Oh god, let me die here and now. Remus swallowed as Sirius paused, scanning the room. His eyes lit on the young teacher but, surprisingly, they didn't linger. Instead they flickered away, almost as though Sirius was suddenly embarrassed.
Remus watched surreptitiously as Sirius waved to James and strode across the room, Peter trailing behind him clutching a sheaf of music. Remus caught the words "practicing…" and "Peter's helped…" before a loud crescendo on the piano drowned out all other noise and the girl playing finished, standing up to take a bow to raucous applause from her fellow housemates.
"She was good," McGonagall murmured approvingly, placing a tick next to the girl's name. "At least we have a wide variety – unlike the Slytherins." The sneer was implicit in her voice, even if it didn't show on her face. "Nothing but singing, the whole lot of them. They think it's not good enough if they play an instrument invented by a muggle." She sniffed disapprovingly, then glanced at the list. "Sirius Black!"
Sirius turned, smiling at her, even as he refused to look at Remus. "Yes, professor?"
"Your audition piece," McGonagall snapped, "Let's hear it."
"Yes Professor." Sirius obediently strode into the centre of the room, waving impatiently to Peter, who scuttled after him, nearly dropping the music sheets. Grinning, the dark haired boy pointed at the piano, then waited for his shorter friend to place the music on the stand. Bending down, he unfastened the violin case and drew the instrument out, fingers lovingly caressing the polished wood before lightly plucking a string, checking to make sure it was in tune.
"I never knew he played the violin," McGonagall murmured to Remus, who nodded, swallowing.
I should be happy he's not even acknowledging me, he thought miserably, I'm the one who encouraged this, so why do I feel…rejected? He sighed and watched as Sirius, satisfied with the instrument, raised the violin, tucking it under his chin. The student glanced at Peter, who nodded, fingers ready over the keys of the piano, before smiling at Professor McGonagall, eyebrows raised.
"Shall I begin?"
"Yes, yes, get on with it," she snapped impatiently.
Sirius nodded and launched into his piece.
With the opening notes, Remus recognized it to be the Sarabande, but it was unlike anything he'd ever heard before. Peter's accompaniment provided a fast background tempo to which Sirius played fiercely. The violin positively sang under the dark haired boy's fingers, its song soaring into the air of the classroom, rendering the students speechless as they watched Sirius sway in time to the music.
The bow flashed across the strings, producing note after perfect note, the techno beat provided by the piano – and, Remus realised, the kind drumming assistance of one J. Potter – making the whole piece fit together remarkably well.
Sirius was moving with more abandon now, his body jerking with the violin, his hair coming loose from its tail to fall messily around his face as he concentrated. It was plain to anyone watching that he was completely lost in his own private world of music, following the path of the notes as he pulled a pure, unrelenting sound from the instrument under his fingers. It was, without a doubt, poetry in motion – an epic in sound, and Remus was unable to tear his eyes away from the lithe figure that had captivated his small audience.
Sirius's eyes were closed as the music reached its climax, a small frown marring his face as he focused entirely on the notes he wanted to produce. Peter's fingers flew over the keys of the piano as the Sarabande soared, dipped and finished with a triumphant flourish that had Sirius's bow moving so fast that if you squinted your eyes, it almost looked as though it was a blur of motion.
As the piece came to an end, the applause from the Gryffindors was nearly deafening. As Remus watched, McGonagall put a firm tick by Sirius's name, them smiled up at him.
"Very good, Mr Black. A little like a rock concert, but very good nonetheless."
"Well done, Sear!" James had abandoned his drum kit (and how had he not noticed that before? Remus wondered) and rushed across to clap Sirius on the shoulder. "I never knew you could play the bloody thing that well!"
Neither did I, Remus thought, then stiffened.
A figure playing on top of the tower to an audience of stars and one late-working teacher. A sad, melancholy piece that hadn't fitted with the beauty of the night, but had stirred sympathy in the very depths of his soul…
"You, it was you," Remus whispered, eyes riveted to Sirius's back.
Almost as though he could hear Remus, Sirius stiffened, then turned around. His grey eyes scanned the room before resting on the young teacher. Remus saw a flicker pass across Sirius's face before he nodded coolly, once, and turned, walking out of the classroom without looking back.
To Be Continued…
