"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"
"What?"
"You're staring. I don't like it."
He slid to the other side of the bed and rose, casting a deep frown at me from over his shoulder as he walked to the bathroom. I didn't even attempt to deny his accusation. I had been staring. I had gone to bed with my schoolyard tormentor and woken to find…someone else. The garish morning sunshine that filtered into the bedroom through the thin window dressing had granted me a disturbing realization, something I had missed in the poor light of the previous evening. Over the last year, Regulus had become almost a perfect mirror image of his elder brother. The same dark hair and grey eyes. The same toned olive skin and tiny cleft in his chin. And of course, the same straight, perfect nose.
The only thing that could've been worse is if he looked like Potter.
I left the bed and dressed hurriedly, feeling the sudden, inexplicable need to get him out of my flat and away from me as quickly as possible. I heated the kettle for tea, sat at the small table near the living room window and waited for him to emerge from the bathroom. He came out moments later, pulling his jumper over wet hair. The only chair in the room was the one I occupied, so he sat on the windowsill and smirked down at me, combing his fingers through his fringe.
"So, when are you going to introduce me?" he drawled lazily.
"Introduce you to whom?"
He scoffed. "The Dark Lord, Severus."
"I'm not," I sneered.
"Of course you are." The detested smirk pulled his mouth into a dangerous sort of leer.
"This isn't the Gobstones Club at Hogwarts," I told him snidely, my eyes narrowing in disdain. "One doesn't simply waltz into the Dark Lord's presence with a gaggle of friends in tow. It is a delicate process of oath and deed that requires the guidance of a willing sponsor. I'm afraid you'll find me quite unwilling," I added, with the most unpleasant smile I could muster.
"But how touching that you consider me a friend." He shoved himself away from the window and approached me, leaning across the small table to look down into my eyes.
"You will help me become a Death Eater, Severus," he said quietly. "The experience would be so much more gratifying if you'd agree now, rather than after I've had to force you into it."
It was my turn to scoff.
"Your threats have lost their weight. You can't do anything to me now."
"Ah," he said, reaching out to brush a hand over my hair before I was able to jerk away, "how quickly you forget. I'm still a Black. And Blacks still tend to get what they want. It's been so very useful. Unlimited credit everywhere I go, people bending over backwards to make me happy. Why, I imagine that one word from me about an employee could mean the difference between promotion and dismissal from any establishment in Diagon Alley."
I sat in perfect stillness, my rising fury rapidly overtaking the flash of panic that had clamped onto my stomach at his words. I allowed my hatred to build until I was sure it was strong enough to keep my voice steady.
"You would dare threaten a Death Eater?" I asked in a deadly whisper.
"Don't think of it as a threat," he chided, straightening from his slouch over the table. "Think of it as a mutually-beneficial arrangement. If you help me with what I want, then I can use my influence to help you in return."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," I said. His ignorance was repulsive, but I welcomed it. It ate away at the inexplicable attraction I held for him.
"That's why I'm relying on you." He turned on a charming smile and slowly edged his way around the table. "I knew how important you'd be, all those years ago. I could've had any Slytherin—hell, any student I wanted. But I wanted you."
I watched him warily as he came closer, but he merely smiled down at me with the same disturbing glint lingering in the depths of his dark grey eyes.
"Am I supposed to be flattered?" I spat bitterly.
"You're supposed to return the favor. I can be as useful and important to you as you've been to me, if you'd just give me the chance."
I couldn't deny that what he said was true. As a pureblood from a family such as the Blacks, with more money and connections than a wizard like me could ever hope to achieve, an alliance with him would have some very attractive benefits.
"You understand that the Dark Lord could just as soon kill you as hear anything that you have to say," I muttered quietly.
"Of course."
"And you understand that if that should happen, I will do absolutely nothing to save you."
"Severus, we are Slytherins. That goes without saying."
For a fleeting moment, the feeling that I was about to make a grave mistake burned inside my chest and stayed my tongue. How can this be a mistake? If the Dark Lord is pleased with Regulus, he'll be pleased with me as well. And if the Dark Lord is displeased, Regulus will die and I'll be rid of him. I inhaled a slow breath and made my decision.
"I'll report your interest to the Dark Lord at the next summons."
"Good." His smile took on shades of a self-satisfied smirk, and he reached out a hand to touch my hair again. I snatched the hand and yanked, pulling him roughly down so that he had to stoop awkwardly next to me, his face on level with mine.
"Do not mistake this agreement for anything more than what it is. You do not have license to touch me or to ask favors. I will call on you when I have need of you. If you fail me in any way, I may decide to give a very different report to the Dark Lord with the hope that he allows me to kill you myself. In the meantime, however, you will keep your hands to yourself." He cringed as I hissed the last sentence into his face and staggered backward when I shoved him forcefully away from me.
I rose quickly from the chair and stalked over to the kettle, which had been whistling softly since he had made his threat against my livelihood. I took my time heating the pot and measuring the tea, fully expecting him to use the opportunity to leave me in peace. But Regulus Black never did anything as I expected.
I didn't hear him come up behind me, which perhaps was the most alarming thing. But despite my loud gasp as his hand slipped over my right hip, I was immediately incensed.
"Did I not just tell you to—" I started angrily and tried to turn, but he cut me off, his mouth a hair's breadth from my ear and his hand gripping more firmly onto my hip.
"You can give me as many directives as you like, Severus," he murmured, and gods, the low notes in his voice vibrated through my entire body, making me shiver involuntarily. "But that last is one I can't obey. I've spent this past year waiting for the chance to touch you again and now that I'm here, I intend to touch you whenever I want to." As he spoke, his hand slid from my hip to grasp my burgeoning arousal through my slacks. I tried to stifle the moan that longed to burst from my lips, but wasn't in time to hide it from him.
"Why do you try to fight this? There aren't any professors prowling your rooms, no ghosts to catch us, no classmates to spy on us. I know you want me." He pushed his hand under the waistband of my slacks and began to stroke. I gripped the edge of the countertop, my knuckles turning white. "I know you're…curious." He pressed himself against me from behind and I felt his erection dig into the small of my back.
"Enough!"
I struggled away from him, sucking in large breaths of air. I couldn't bring myself to look at him, knowing that my expression would betray to him how much of what he said was true. I turned and made my way into the bedroom, half dreading and half hoping that he would dare to follow me. And of course, he was never one to back down from a dare.
