It was almost a relief when my N.E.W.T.s started, because it meant that I'd soon be getting away from him. There had never been more than a few stolen moments in broom closets, surreptitious groping in the empty Common Room, frenzied sucking in the student's lab. I found reasons to avoid him when I could and he would make me pay for them the next time he managed to corner me.

I should have just gone to Dumbledore that very first time. The headmaster was always discrete, whatever else he might be. But the thought of trying to relate what had happened, wondering if he'd even believe me…it was more than I could bear.

I knew that I was in some serious trouble the second time it happened and it felt as good as the first time. Better. Where the hell had he learned to do that? I never asked, and I suppose I wouldn't have wanted to know anyway. And then his arrogant berk of a brother tried to make good on his threat. When Dumbledore didn't so much as publicly reprimand the murderous piece of shit, I wouldn't have gone to him for all the Galleons in Gringotts.

So I dealt with it on my own for two years. Eventually, it got bad enough that the mere sound of his voice would start to make me go hard. I had to leave the Great Hall hungry more than once. The worst part was that he knew. He knew why I left and why I'd go to bed well before curfew. He knew I had no one to tell, even if I'd wanted to. I guess that's why he chose me to begin with. I might have been a year older, but every other advantage was very much his and he knew that too.

Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who knew. I couldn't decide exactly which of his friends Black had told, but I was sure of Potter, at least. His hatred for me—entirely mutual, to be sure—seemed to double overnight. From our fifth year on, he went above and beyond to make my life a living hell.

All in all, I was looking forward to leaving Hogwarts behind me forever. Regulus wasn't going to let me leave, however, without a few parting words. He'd shown an uncharacteristic mercy in leaving me alone for the week of exams. But the day after I'd taken my last N.E.W.T., he visited me in my own dormitory. The rare occasions on which he did this were the only times I ever wished I weren't a Slytherin.

"You shouldn't be here," I said, my customary greeting for him.

"Relax," he drawled in that voice that made me want to do anything but. He sauntered toward my bed and I prayed to whatever deity might listen that he not decide to sit.

"What do you want?"

"Quite a lot, actually," he said, smirking. "But at the moment, all I want is a word with you."

"Later," I muttered, avoiding his eyes.

"Mother always disapproved of procrastination."

I couldn't risk pushing him any further. In spite of the fact that he was the one who'd have to live with whatever the repercussions might be for another year at Hogwarts, I always had the sense that I had far more to lose than he did if our secret was ever discovered. I tossed the book I'd been reading on my bed and stood, gritting my teeth. I followed him through the Common Room, out into the hall, and into his favorite broom closet. The one that was so small, it kept me easily within his reach. As soon as the door closed behind us, he wasted no time in taking advantage of the close quarters.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked, trying to angle myself away from him.

"I just want to show you how much I'll miss you," he said, grinding himself against me. He reached around to grip my arse to give himself better leverage. I granted him the shuddering groan he'd been after, utterlydespising myself for it just the same. "And I wanted to remind you," he added, not bothering to hide the smugness on his face, "that I'm the jealous type."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. The implications were fundamentally ridiculous, in more than one way. He flashed me an indulgent grin and continued to crush our groins together.

"Just keep this time next year free on your calendar. You'll be entertaining a guest."

"Surely you'll have some other victim by then."

"I'm sure I will," he agreed readily. "But will they measure up to you? In any way?" He moved one hand from my arse to take hold of me, straining as I was against my trousers. "Somehow I doubt it."

How well I knew that tone of voice. It simultaneously filled me with paralyzing dread and eager anticipation.

"We'll be due for dinner shortly," I whispered fiercely. He was busy unbuttoning my trousers and didn't answer.

"Stop," I hissed, my throat tensing unpleasantly. "We'll be found."

"Just a little going-away present."

And then, faster than I would've thought possible, he jerked my trousers and underclothes down just far enough to expose me to the room.

"Don't," I gasped angrily, trying in vain to back away.

But the moment his mouth descended on me, all thoughts of resistance dissolved in an instant. I ground my teeth together until my jaw was nearly screaming in protest. My back was against the wooden shelves that held the cleaning supplies, and the fumes of Scower's Magical Mess Remover wafted into my flaring nostrils as my chest began to heave. I flung out my arms and gripped the shelf at shoulder-height behind me, digging my fingers into the wood. I refused to look down. If I had to allow him this, if my body must be subjected to this blissful horror, I could at least pretend that it wasn't him that brought me so effortlessly to climax. I could imagine someone else there, swallowing me whole. Anyone else.

When it was done, he rose from the floor. I didn't have to look at him to feel the smug, knowing expression he wore.

"Until we meet again, Severus," he whispered, trailing a hand through my hair. I turned my face away from him, nodding once in silence. Just let him leave. He obliged, peeking cautiously into the corridor and slinking out of the closet in the direction of the Great Hall. I closed the door behind him, stuffing myself back inside my trousers and furiously ordering the burning sensation behind my eyes to go away. A few deep breaths and soon I was back in the Slytherin Common Room. I hunched my shoulders against the indifferent glances from the few other stragglers who were late for dinner and strode into the bathrooms as quickly as I dared. I spent an hour in the shower. I went to bed hungry. I dreamt of the closet. But in my dream, it was my mouth on him as he groaned with pleasure.