Authors Note: Please note that this story will contain profanity, sex, sexual themes, death, blood, and other such dark content. Also, this story is mainly written from the perspective of a 16-year-old boy, as such, it will contain lots of thoughts regarding sex and the female body, if this isn't to your liking, please do not read further.

Chapter 13 – Part 1

11:45 AM, Saturday 9th of September 1974

The first thing Antares noticed when he woke up — even before he had the chance to open his eyes and take in his surroundings — was that he definitely wasn't alone. Based on past experiences, and the warm soft feeling of the person practically melded to his side, the person was most assuredly female. The second thing he noticed, was that his body felt like it had been run over by a herd of hippogriffs … and then some.

Opening his eyes one at a time, he looked around silently, his mind fuzzy and his eyesight blurry as he adjusted to harsh brightness of the room. Once he was fully awake and no-longer struggling to see, he turned his attention to his surroundings and more importantly to the person beside him.

He was able to see that he was currently in his bedroom, one glimpse of the familiar black and silver satin duvet was enough to let him know that this was the case. Once his location was determined, his attention turned to the unknown person who currently occupied his bed. A mane of black hair peeking above the blanket the only clue as to who might be under the cover. Curious to see who he had obviously spent the night with, he grabbed the corner of the blanket and pulled back the cover.

It was upon seeing the sleeping and very much naked form of Caroline Parkinson pressed tightly against his body, her head burrowed in the crook of his armpit, breasts pressed tightly against his ribcage and her right arm and leg draped lazily across his own naked body, that everything from the previous night was beginning to come back to him in bits and pieces.

Sitting up slowly, he silently untangled himself from the sleeping beauty before sliding out from under the covers. His mind spun wildly as he tried to stand up, prompting him to take a seat on the edge of the bed. Palming his forehead, he wearily rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, the onset of a headache beginning to form at the forefront of his mind.

He groaned quietly to himself as he held the bridge of his nose with his hand, his eyes held tightly shut as the consequences of his drunken behaviour washed over him. Turning around to look at his latest conquest, he couldn't help but chastise himself internally for the stupid decision he had made whilst under the influence of an unhealthy amount of Firewhiskey. Knowing it was pointless to try to make sense of last night's activities whilst in his current state, he turned to his bedside table and opened the top draw, shaking his head at his own stupidity all the while.

The draw was neatly organised and contained several different items. A leather pouch with some casual spending money for his trips to Hogsmeade, A backup wand that had belonged to his Great-Grandfather, Cygnus Black, complete with the trace removed, and roughly a dozen glass vials filled with two-different coloured potions. Snatching up a fluorescent blue one, he quickly uncorked the potion and swallowed the contents, grimacing slightly as the foul taste made its way across his tongue and down his throat.

His mind became clearer and sharper, his memories of last night becoming vivid, crashing back to the forefront of his mind with crystal-like clarity. His vision lost its slight blurriness and was once more back to normal. His muscles and body lost that lethargic, fatigued feeling, and the headache that he was experiencing not a few moments prior was already starting to disappear. In truth, he was feeling a lot better than he had before he had started drinking the night before. He felt fresher, and lighter somehow, as well more energized and ready to tackle any and all problems that might stand in his way. Such were the benefits of the Hangover Cure Potion. Whoever had invented it had been a complete and utter genius in Antares' mind and deserved all the credit and respect in the world.

He honestly didn't know what he would do without the little vial of goodness, which was able to bring him back to tip-top shape in a matter of seconds. It was rather an expensive potion as well, costing roughly the equivalent of a week's worth of wages for the standard witch or wizard. Given his families own enormous wealth however, the cost had never been a point of contention. He assumed that if the Hangover Cure Potion didn't exist, and he had to suffer the effects of a Hangover for longer than 5 minutes, his semi-regular activity of enjoying a cold alcoholic beverage would quickly be replaced with something less demanding on his body. He had had to suffer a full two-day hangover only once in his life, back before he knew that such a cure existed, and it wasn't an experience he wanted to relive anytime soon. Hence the stack of vials that he kept in his bedside table, always ready in case he did happen to drink a bit too much the previous night.

The other set of vials in his draw, the ones dark purple in colour, where another safety measure that he had taken to keeping on hand after the previous years near scandalous affair with a certain seventh-year by the name of Vanessa Harlow.

She had been a very pretty Ravenclaw seventh-year and he a Slytherin fifth-year at the time. She was a pureblood, moderately skilled and came from an upper-middle class family. They had met one evening at a Prefect party on the fifth-floor Prefect's Bathroom, and after a bit of flirting and heavy petting, they had continued their amorous relations in an abandoned classroom down the hall. One thing led to another and the two of them ended up sleeping together, both of them leaving the classroom a few hours later equally satisfied, tired and intoxicated.

It was two weeks later when she informed him that she was pregnant, and intended to keep the baby. That she expected him to do right by her and the child and marry her before the baby was born. He — needless to say — had panicked.

He wasn't ready to be a father. He knew was too young and too selfish at the present time to deal with such a huge and demanding responsibility. To have a child right now, no matter who the mother happened to be, would be a huge roadblock to his plans for the Black Family.

He had tried to reason with her at first. Offering her anything and everything she could possibly dream of if she just 'handled it'. Yet she vehemently refused the idea of killing their "Child".

At first, He didn't know if this was her plan all along. To sleep with him as a way of elevating her and her families status in Wizarding Society by trapping him into a relationship, or if an honest mistake had been made of her not applying the contraceptive charm the morning after they had lain together. But something about the situation seemed off when he reflected back on how it was she who had shown interest in him, how she had conveniently hurried off after they had slept together and how she had tried to practically force him into marrying her without even discussing any other solution to the problem first.

He suspected that she knew exactly what she was doing. Of how it would make him look to the rest of the world if it was known that the 15-year-old Heir to the Black Family was sleeping around fathering bastard children whilst still in school, that his and his families reputation would be devastatingly tarnished. That his prospects of finding a suitable pureblood wife would be utterly diminished if it was known that he already had a child before marriage, something considered taboo in the pureblood circles of the Wizarding World. Children with mistresses and the like we're commonplace, yet having a child before securing an heir with one's wife was practically unheard of. It had been common once, hundreds of years ago, yet when bastards started killing the legitimate younger heirs in order to secure the land and titles of their father, the practice had all but been considered outlawed.

It was when she refused for the third time, and threatened him that she would go to the Daily Prophet with the news of her pregnancy, that he knew for sure that he been played like a fiddle. He had no other choice but to get in contact with his Great Aunt Cassiopeia, a ruthless, cut-throat old spinster that had dirt on any witch or wizard worth their salt in the British Isles. She was one of his more closer relatives despite not having spent much time together, and he knew that she didn't particularly care about informing either of his parents about the type of things he got up to.

Whether it was by threat of bodily harm, blackmail, or just a hefty bribe, he didn't know. Yet quite suddenly the girl had changed her mind and his problem had up and disappeared. His Great-Aunt had handled the finer details, informing him several weeks after he had contacted her to tell him that the situation had been dealt with without having to result in anything "too sinister".

He had been warned of course, by his mother especially, about the "Harlots" and "Mudblood Filth" that would try and use their bodies to exploit him for financial gain or to try and rise above their station in life. But like any 15-year-old, he had hardly heeded her at the time.

The whole experience had left him a bit shaken up at the time and had made him downright paranoid when it came to sleeping with someone new for the first time. Hence the need for the vials of Contraceptive Potion #5 in his bedside table drawer. He now made sure that every woman he slept with took the potion before they had slept together, regardless of them claiming to be using the much more popular Contraceptive Charm.

Never again would he put himself in such a vulnerable, to be trapped like an animal and forced to do the bidding of others. To be used as some pawn in the great game of chess that was the British High Society. He was a Black. His ancestors had laid the foundation for Magical Britain back when the Romans had occupied the country. He was the shepherd, not the sheep. He hadn't been bred to blindly follow the masses upon command, to trust that others had his best interests at heart, nor unable to think and act for himself. He had made the mistake once, and it wasn't something he planned on ever repeating.

Feeling his body and mind return to full form due to the impressive nature of the Hangover Cure, Antares turned his mind from past troubles to his much more recent dilemma.

Looking over his shoulder at the slumbering and very much naked form of Caroline Parkinson, he couldn't help but devour her body with his eyes. She was breathtakingly beautiful from head to toe, and now that he stood before her, as naked as she was, his memory of having spent the night together came to the forefront of his mind.

Now that he was sober once more and his mind wasn't a jumbled mess, he remembered quite clearly — that even though he was completed out of it — the exact reason why he had thought it an acceptable idea to ask her to share his bed for the night.

Out of respect for their friendship, and his relationship with Sophia, he hadn't tried anything on with her in the past. He didn't want things to get weird and awkward between himself, Sophia and Caroline, which they surely would if Sophia knew that he had slept with both herself and her best friend. He didn't want to be the cause of any type of jealousy, nor the reason for them falling out and ruining their friendship. But now that he was promised to another, everything had changed.

Firstly, He was no longer being intimate with Sophia, so there was no need to keep the peace any longer. Secondly, He was contractually obligated to marry someone he had never met, which was a reason enough as any to sleep with whoever he chose before he was officially a married man. And last but certainly not least, he just didn't give a fuck anymore.

It was these exact thoughts that he assumed had led him to asking her to spend the night when she had helped his drunk ass from the common room couch to his bedroom. He was currently a free agent. Able to do as he pleased when he pleased. Until the time that he stood before his future bride and the two of them finally became man and wife, he would continue to act as if nothing had changed.

Was it perhaps dishonest and dishonourable of him to do these types of things to Helena during their courting phase? Perhaps it was. Yet he didn't feel quite so charitable as to remain celibate up until his wedding night. With his interest in the fairer sex and his very healthy libido, it was hardly something he had any interest in doing.

Yet despite having these thoughts in the back of his mind. Of not remaining celibate during the courting phase. Of being a free agent and free to do as he wished. Of being able to sleep with Caroline if he so pleased and she was willing. He still wasn't sure what the deciding factor had been in his alcohol addled mind to ask the pretty Parkinson heiress into his bed.

Perhaps it was nothing more than good old fashioned teenage hormones and horniness. Perhaps it was due to how shitty his day had been with the Bogart incident in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class earlier that day. Perhaps it was just a way for him to act out and release some of his pent up anger and frustration he had been feeling since he had found out about the Marriage Contract. He could blame it on the alcohol and his drunkenness. That he hadn't been thinking clearly. That it was a mistake on his part to have propositioned her when he wasn't in the right frame of mind.

'Whatever the reason, it's of little consequence now' he thought dryly to himself, eyeing the sleeping women in his bed with a thoughtful expression.

Kneeling forward, he grabbed the corner of his blanket and hastily straightened it out, covering Caroline's perky breasts from the cold morning air. Once that was done, he gathered up his clothes for the day (it being a Saturday, students were allowed to wear their own clothes instead of the standard Hogwarts uniform) before making his way to the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead.

Leaving his clothes upon the bathroom countertop, he pulled back the black curtain and stepped under the spigot, the water turning on automatically once the curtain had been pulled shut behind him.

Placing his palms on the wall in front of him, Antares leaned forward slightly, his head bowed and his eyes closing of their own accord as the warm water washed over him.

He stood there in silence for what felt like at least a good five minutes. Doing nothing but listening to the pitter-patter of a million drops of water falling upon his body, the heat soaking into his skin and soothing his tired and lethargic frame.

Eventually, however, he had to open his eyes. He pulled his hands off of the wall in order to wipe the water from his eyes, whilst simultaneously turning himself around so that the water now fell upon the nape of his neck.

Grabbing the bar of soap and a washcloth, he quickly got to work at making himself presentable for the day ahead. He thought of himself as a man with few pet peeves, yet good hygiene was definitely one of them.

Everything was just more pleasant and enjoyable when one was clean and well presented. Not to mention the fairer sex showed a lot more interest in you if you didn't look and smell like you had just crawled out of a gutter.

It was only once he exited the shower, dried himself and slipped into a pair of black trousers and a white long-sleeved cotton shirt, that he thought he ought to check the time, conjuring a quick 'Tempus' with a wave of his hand.

'Bloody hell' he whispered, eyes widening slightly as the numbers 11 and 45 appeared before him in opaque grey smoke.

Very rarely had he ever slept so late into the day. Most mornings for at least the last 3 years had seen him rise at roughly 6 o'clock. From there he would go about his usual routine of having a cup of tea, brushing his teeth, and making his way onto the grounds to do his hour and a half of exercise. The weekends were slightly different from the rest of the school week. He didn't work out on these days, allowing his body to recover and repair itself from the week's activities; and he allowed himself the luxury of sleeping in for an extra hour or two because of this.

Lazy was a word that had never been uttered in the same conversation as his own name. He had grown up in an environment where such actions simply weren't tolerated. He had tried to be the exemplary son. Obeying every order and undertaking any task set to him by his father and Grandfather. He had never had the luxury of acting out and being childish as his brothers had been able to. His parents simply didn't hold with such nonsense when it came to him. He was the Heir. It was his duty to do what was asked of him by those who had brought him into the world. They had but to ask and he was expected to do as instructed. Since that time, a sense of unease had always followed him, niggling at the back of his mind whenever he got too complacent or did something he felt was particularly time wasteful and unproductive.

Tying his shoes with literally a snap of his fingers, he checked his appearance thoroughly in the mirror, and once he saw that he looked respectable, he made his way back into his bedroom.

Caroline sat at the end of his bed. Her legs dangling over the sides as she sat up straight, her arms folded in her lap as she looked towards the bathroom door.

"Antar-" began Caroline, standing up once she had seen him exit the bathroom, yet Antares had spoken "I'd lik-" at the exact same time.

"Please, You first" she replied, waving him on, her cheeks turning slightly pink as her hands fidgeted nervously by her sides.

"Ahh … um … Would you like some Breakfast?" fumbled Antares slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand.

"That sounds wonderful" she replied, nodding her head in agreement, thankful that he had taken control of the situation.

"Kreacher," he said loudly, his voice carrying across the room.

With a loud cracking sound and a mild distortion of air, Antares' personal house-elf appeared in front of him.

"What can Kreacher be doing for Young Master, Heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Black?" asked the wrinkled-looking house-elf, bowing low and with great reverence, his large tennis-ball like eyes shining with pure devotion.

"I require two full English's and something to wash it down with for myself and Miss Parkinson. And fetch me my mail while you're at it" Antares commanded of the diminutive being, paying no heed to the creatures extreme fondness for serving him and the entirety of the Black Family … bar Sirius for some reason.

"As Young Master commands. Kreacher lives to serve the purest house of Black" mumbled the obviously unhinged-Elf, hanging his head low as he bowed once more.

Snapping his fingers together, Kreacher conjured a solid wooden table and two chairs. *SNAP* The table went from empty, to set, complete with black tablecloth, silver tableware, crystal goblets and porcelain teacups. *SNAP* Two plates appeared on the table, both sporting a full English breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, pork sausage, toast, fried mushrooms and grilled tomato. *SNAP* A large jug filled to the brim with freshly squeezed orange juice was now on the table, promptly followed by a pot of tea. With one final *SNAP* a small stack of envelopes appeared in his thin, gnarled fingers.

"That'll be all, Kreacher," said Antares dismissively, taking the letters from the deranged elf's outstretched hand.

"If Master be needing anything else, he has but to call" Kreacher replied, bowing once more before disappearing with a loud *CRACK*.

"Your Elf seems very … devoted … to you and your House" said Caroline delicately, taking a seat at Antares' insistence.

"Unhinged would be a more apt description" Antares chuckled darkly, taking the seat opposite her, "You should see him when he's around my mother; practically worships the ground she walks on"

"Is there a reason he's like that?" she asked, picking up her knife and fork and digging into the food before her, raising one delicate eyebrow as Antares slid a potion across the tabletop. She didn't hesitate for a second (nor did she question him on the matter) opening the vial and downing its entire contents with a shudder, the foul and bitter taste lingering on her tongue for several minutes.

Antares followed suit, his actions mimicking her own as his mind wandered elsewhere. He could see straight away what she was doing, even if she herself was oblivious to the fact. She was making small talk, keeping him engaged on another topic whilst the real conversation was yet to be talked about. He was hardly so crass as to railroad the conversation, forcing her to get to the conversation that was both on their minds since the moment they had both opened their eyes. He was a gentleman, and it was a gentleman's duty to act in a way that was befitting of such a gentleman. So he decided to indulge her in questions regarding Kreacher and his strange behaviour, as well as her questions regarding the other House-Elves his family owned.

10 minutes had passed, and both of them had cleaned their plates and drank their fill of Tea and Juice when Antares thought it was time to steer the conversation in the proper direction.

"Anecdotes aside" he started, picking up his mug of tea as he stared directly at her, "I hardly doubt it is House-Elf culture and customs that occupies your mind right now," He raised the cup to his lips and took a large sip of the warm beverage, "Nor mine for that matter".

"No, I don't suppose it is" she whispered, shoulders slumping slightly as she rested her elbows on the table, her head buried in her hands.

"I just … don't know where to begin with any of this," she professed to him, hands waving around to indicate the whole somewhat-complicated situation.

"Do you regret what happened last night?" Antares asked, leaning forward, his voice quiet and gentle at seeing his friend so distressed over something he had instigated.

Several seconds past, Antares watching her expression closely as several thoughts ran through her mind, trying to work out what she really felt about the situation. Eventually, however, she shook her head.

"Then what's there to be worried about?" he replied with a shrug of his shoulders, leaning back in his seat.

Seeing her unconvinced look, he decided to take charge of the situation. Once more he leant forward in his seat, his hands reaching across the tabletop, entwining her small delicate fingers with his long slender ones. She blinked at him owlishly, large brown eyes staring back at him, the unasked question of 'What are you doing?' hanging in the air.

"You really mean that then? You have no regrets about deciding to sleep with me? Because, I sure as hell don't regret even one second of what happened last night" he asked her, voice quiet and deadly serious.

She shook her head, indicating that she had meant what she had said and didn't regret her decision to sleep with him.

"Did you like the things we did last night? Of the pleasure we both brought each other? Of the way I made you feel? Of the way you made me feel?" he asked her, grey eyes looking intensely at her, practically holding her in place with his gaze alone.

She nodded her head slowly, her cheeks heating up ever-so-slightly at his words. Everything he was saying was true. She had enjoyed last night. More than enjoyed in fact. Antares had made her feel things that no other boy had ever made her experience before. He was attentive and gentle, yet strong and firm and rough when needed. He actually cared about getting her off, unlike other boys she had slept with in the past. Not to mention he really knew how to use that devilish tongue of his. All in all, it was an experience she wouldn't soon forget.

"But what of Sophia? She's my best friend Antares, I don't want to lose her over this" She whispered, her head turning away from his penetrating gaze.

"Sophia and I have parted ways since the Marriage Contract came to light, as I told you previously. No matter our feelings for each other, nothing can ever come of it. We both know this. Hurting her is the furthest thing from my mind, she's one of my best friends as you well know. But eventually, she'll have to move on from what once was. She'll end up dating other blokes, sleeping with other blokes, and perhaps even fall in love with one of them. Is it not expected that I would do the same?"

"But you're to be married soon Antares?"

"I am. But that hardly changes things now does it?"

Caroline blinked rapidly, taken aback somewhat at his cavalier attitude on the matter. Evidently, he was still somewhat resentful at the situation he had found himself in. Knowing that Antares was a naturally private person and that it wasn't her place to question his decisions, she voiced the questions that had been on her mind all morning, "Even if that is the case and she's fine with what's just happened. What about us? I've always felt that we've been pretty close friends. Not as close perhaps as you and Sophia, or Sophia and I, or Tristan and Jasper, yet close all the same. What happens now between us? Do we pretend as if nothing happened? Are things different between us now that we've slept together? Where do we go from here Antares?". The last question she directed at him personally, turning back around to face him once more.

"Nothing has to change if you don't want it to," he replied, standing up and making his way in front of her, dropping to his knees so that he was looking her eye-to-eye, "It doesn't have to be different, or weird, or awkward at all. Why must it be complicated? Why can't it just be two teens who had sex one night, and who happened to be friends?"

"Nothing's ever that simple. You know that"

"It's my fault, alright. I take full responsibility for my actions last night, and I'm sorry that I've put us in such a compromising situation. Despite being blind drunk, I knew exactly what I was doing when I asked you to stay the night. I let my dick think for me, even when I knew what the consequences could be" he countered, grasping her hands for the second time that day, trying to convey through actions alone how sorry he was, "But I'm not regretful of my decision either, of the consequences perhaps, but not the act itself. And if you are truly worried about Sophia, and she does find a reason to be angry and needs to blame someone, then she can start with me. You'll not lose her as a friend over this, I promise you that."

A warm sense of gratitude swept over Caroline, her opinion of Antares rising once more. Here was a boy who was man enough, willing enough, to take the entire blame for something that wasn't his fault alone, yet in the same sentence was completely unapologetic and unregretful for his actions. More important, however, was his promise to prevent her from losing Sophia as a friend if things happened to go awry. His reputation as someone whose word was their bond was well known to her, and it was this promise that allowed her to let go of the breath she had unknowingly been holding in since she had seen him exit his bathroom. 'Only a Black could be so completely and utterly complicated' she thought with an internal roll of her eyes.

"That isn't at all fair on yourself, Antares. You asked me multiple times if I wanted to go further. Gave me ample opportunity to walk away if I wished it so. Yet I didn't. I'm to blame just as much as you are"

"I guess we're both equally to blame" he chuckled lightly, thankful that she wasn't blaming him for the situation they had found themselves in.

"What now then?" Caroline breathed out finally, standing up and pulling him to his feet.

"What do you mean, 'What now then?"

"Well, it's like you said, isn't it? Nothing has to change if we don't want it to, and that's exactly what I want. I want things to stay as they were before last night ever happened. Everything you've said to me is enough to placate me for now. That, and we can hardly sit around all day worrying about what may or may not happen in the future. As the saying goes; "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live". The saying may be slightly different, but the message applies all the same. And if something does come of it, then we can always cross that bridge when it happens. So now that we've discussed it, we can get on with our lives, never having to discuss this sordid affair ever again," she elaborated, a great weight seeming to lift from her (and his) shoulders as the words left her mouth.

"Ahh… right," replied a baffled Antares, Caroline's sudden change of demeanour stunning him into silence for several seconds.

"I guess I'd best do the honourable thing and take you on a date to Hogsmeade this afternoon. Given everything that happened, it's the least I can do. Just as friends of course" he said slowly, his trademark grin returning now that the tense and difficult conversation had moved on to greener pastures.

"That'd sound lovely, Antares. Shall I meet you in the common room in say, half-an-hour?" replied Caroline, a huge smile on her face and her eyes lighting up at his unexpected invitation, already thoughts about what she was going to wear flashing through her mind.

"I'll be waiting in the common room when your ready" he called out after her as she quickly pulled her nightgown to her chest and dashed off towards the exit, yelling "See you soon" over her shoulder as she went.

"Women" he muttered to himself, shaking his head from side to side, "Why they must take leave of their senses when shopping is involved, I'll never know"