Title: Ardor Animorum
Author: AristideCauquemaire
Pairing: Scorpius Malfoy/James Sirius Potter
Rating: M for grown-up language and sexual situations and themes.
Warnings: original characters; slash, non-consensual situations
To FlowerSpaceship: Thank for your enthusiastic review on Calor! Reading all that in one day is a pretty impressive feat, wow - I'm not sure that I could do that and I freaking wrote it o.ô I actually don't really know how to write fluffy romance. I prefer my romance kinky yet sexually unsatisfactory, fraught with feelings of guilt, and psychologically dubious - you know, just like real life :D Glad that you still liked it! I hope you're not regretting starting to read an ongoing story. If you are, you could come back on the evening of September 29th. Everything will be uploaded by then.
Re:Review ch 4: "I don't understand why Scorpius isn't telling Mariella the truth though." Because, like other 17-year-olds, Scorpius doesn't know how to talk about feelings, especially not when they're that enormous ^^. Also, because Mariella doesn't like talking about this stuff. He doesn't want to try her patience and possibly reveal his "condition" to the others. Bascially, he doesn't have a better option than to do as he is told.
"I was somewhat apprehensive of this whole master-slave situation..." So was James, actually ^^; After getting last year out of his system (i.e. telling himself that it was aaaall different, to Scorpius' cost) in that trophy room, he's actually pretty reluctant... eh, you'll see. :) Thank you for the reviews, darling!
Okay, now on to chapter 5! One step forward...
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Chapter 5
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In the next week – test week, no less – Scorpius spent at least an hour each day in the dungeon, helping Potter brew up his marathon of basic hospital wing potions while Potter himself loomed mostly over his copper kettle at the far end of the room. Indeed, he saw him from the front more often during breakfast in the Great Hall than during their extended one-on-one time in the dungeon.
One morning, when all the students had been urged to the Great Hall by their prefects and the entire staff had suspiciously gathered at the head table without exception – including, as Scorpius quickly noticed, the Potion Master's apprentice, hidden next to and slightly behind Professor Smith, just like before - Professor McGonagall introduced Ms Alverdine Sullivan.
"Ms Sullivan will eventually substitute for me in January when, as you all know, my presence will be required at the Ministry in London. Until then, she will occasionally accompany me in Transfiguration lesson."
Ms Alverdine Sullivan could not have been much older than 25. Her hair was very fair and very pretty, her eyes were very green and very pretty - everything about her was very pretty and very likeable, Scorpius thought.
At least until she sat down at the far end of the teachers' table. Next to Potter. Promptly leaning towards him to talk, brushing her hair over her ear and all.
It was even harder now to not constantly turn around and look at them since Mariella practically denied all help, but he somehow managed, with an iron will and a grim look on his face.
The first test phase of the year had come and gone, and students and teachers grumbled about the tests and about one another. It was, Scorpius noted, not all that different from sixth year, except maybe in the acrimony of the grumbling.
In this case, Prince and Lawless grumbled with one another, at one another, and in unison about Professor Smith who, shitty teacher that he was, had decided to test them on two potions they had never dealt with directly, and then announced that the marks for the test would influence the final marks.
The general discontent was so great that people were still audibly complaining while taking their seats the next lesson in the potions dungeon, knowing full well - and ignoring the fact - that Professor Smith, like a sneaky agent of some dark, nefarious organisation, was certainly within earshot somewhere, ready to pick up these comments and fire them back at those who had uttered them in the form of extensive additional homework assignments.
The whole class fell silent as one when James Sirius Potter stepped through the side door instead and took the place at the teacher's desk. Scorpius, studiously ignoring Mariella's side-glancing from the other table, noted that it looked like he had been doing that for years. Like he owned the place.
"Welcome, everyone," he said, looking from face to face without lingering anywhere, with a voice that Scorpius recognised as his Quidditch pitch voice, adjusted to dungeon classroom acoustics. "As you can probably tell, I'm not Professor Smith. I'm just his lowly apprentice who, at this point, sadly does not have a say in the matter of tests, evaluations, marks and the rest, so it'd be pointless to complain to me about it."
He raised an eyebrow in Mariella's direction.
Then he continued, "I did have a look at your tests, though, and based on your most frequent problems and errors, I'd like to make today's lesson a refresher course, just to make clearer to you some of the basic principles of potion-making which most of you seem to have forgotten about, sometime during the last five years, or- maybe- never consciously knew in the first place. You'll need two cauldrons per table, anything between size 2 and 4 is fine for either..."
The lesson progressed in a flurry of well-coordinated action, with one of the cauldrons being used for what Potter called "assessing and experimenting" and the other for fixed results. Potter had picked a relatively easy-to-make sore throat potion from the fourth year's textbook's addendum whose recipe nonetheless incorporated six of the seventeen basic principles, plus four more that could be extrapolated without difficulty. The extra cauldron served as a reminder to look out for the active ingredients and to clarify what 'variations' and 'bases' were, something Scorpius had always had a hard time explaining to his fellow Slytherins during group homework or study groups.
Scorpius knew that he probably could have brewed that potion with his eyes closed, but going through each step carefully and rethinking the greater pattern behind it, seeing how the bigger picture made sense, still made it feel like a very valuable lesson.
That – and seeing Mariella, hands in the air, hopping up and down on the balls of her feet when her and Prince's potion started having the correct hue and consistency. In seven years of Potions classes, with the exception of that one time that Glee Syrup had exploded, he had never once seen her smile or laugh.
And, probably, seeing Potter in his element like that. It was like he had been born to teach, to flit from one table to the next dropping bits of good advice and encouragement everywhere, to ask questions with his loud, steady voice, and to make surprisingly simple and intelligible panels on a chalkboard. He looked so effortless. He looked like he genuinely had fun. It made him suppress a smile.
"Okay, everyone," Potter said as he returned to the teacher's desk after making his last round through the room, correcting and commenting where needed – and therefore passing right by Scorpius' and Constance's table throughout the lesson. "Most of you have successfully finished the potion by now and all of you have gone through the brewing steps I wanted you to go through. Well done."
He clapped his hands twice, like he used to during Quidditch practice with his team. When Professor Smith did this, it always sounded patronising.
"I hope you'll never forget that, so long as you keep the active ingredients and their properties in mind at all times, your equation can vary on both sides and still come out right in the end. Or at least not wrong. Any last-minute questions?" He waited a beat, but nobody spoke up. "Good. Consider yourselves dismissed, then. Please clean up after yourselves."
The class broke out in discussion and got generally noisy so Scorpius didn't notice him until Potter suddenly stood beside him, touching his shoulder to get his attention. He only flinched a little.
"Would you mind inventorying for me on this one?" he asked. "You know your way through the closet better than me by now. There are also some leftovers from the third years before on the stopover table that need to be shelved."
Scorpius nodded and mumbled something like 'Yes, sure' or maybe 'Yes, Sir', awkwardly trying not to turn his face to him because if he did their faces would be really close and that would be-
James wasn't quite done, though. "When you're done, go up to the brewing room, please." Without waiting for an answer, he walked away, weaving through the chaos of students and tables, and vanished through the side door.
Scorpius marvelled at how nothing he said ever seemed to be exactly one thing. Just like that comment about Constance's glare in the library had been simultaneously curious and disinterested, this last sentence of his was not quite an order, not quite a plea, not quite a request, not quite a suggestion, not quite a plain statement, but all of them wrapped in one ambiguous unit of speech.
Faintly, he wondered whether the only way to ever get him to express his feelings clearly and to speak his mind was to tie him to a bookshelf and suck him off.
"Does messieur apprentice require you?" Mariella shoved him with her hip, breaking his concentration and his short trip down memory lane.
"Shut your mouth, Lawless," he mumbled without any heat. Was it possible to will one's ears into not going red?
"Take your own advice, m'lord Malfoy. You were drooling a little," she said, pointing with her index finger at the corner of her own mouth and going, "right there." The entire lesson, he heard her add in his head. It got real bad every time he turned around and stretched like he did to reach the top of the chalkboard...
Then she shoved him again, chuckling under her breath like a villainess, and proceeded to clean up her and Prince's work table, carrying cauldrons and utensils back to their respective places.
He gave Mariella a lopsided grin which she returned, and weeks of awkwardness were noticeably at an end, or at least in remission. A small weight seemed to leave his mind. He breathed deeply, once.
Finally, he went to do the ingredients closet inventory, which was very easy now that he practically knew the thing like the back of his hand. After that, he walked up the hellish staircase, which seemed shorter and easier to climb for some reason as if he was just a bit lighter on his feet today, to join Potter in the brewing room at the end of it.
Just as he had stated he would, or maybe asked, or possibly requested, or perhaps ordered him to do.
/
"That was a really good lesson," he dropped into a prolonged but not quite uncomfortable silence. When he had come into the room half an hour ago, Potter had stood there bent over a very long parchment that rolled over the edge and curled underneath his wolfsbane table, mumbling to himself and furiously scribbling on said parchment with a quill. He hadn't turned around or looked up since then.
James made a 'hrm'-sound in reply.
"Even Mariella almost appreciated it. Not that she'd ever admit it."
Another 'hrm'.
"If we were to vote on it, I'm pretty sure everyone would want you to substitute for Smith forever."
'Hrm hrm' this time.
"Where is he, anyway? And am I allowed to stir this?" He threw a look at the blood-replenishing potion that was currently brewing happily in one of the eight kettles he had to supervise, except that it was developing a greenish skin Scorpius was certain didn't belong there.
While Potter went 'hmmm', Scorpius decided to rather cost Potter apprenticeship points than deal with a kettle spewing boiling potion everywhere. He stirred, careful about going anti-clockwise.
"Also, Brice Parkinson grew a pair of cloven hooves this morning," he said casually, "and Tiffany Collins has decided to drop out of Hogwarts, move to Minnesota, have a big house, two kids, three bathrooms, a garden big enough for a cow and open a yoga studio. Plus, your hair is turning purple and it looks really fetch."
Potter went 'hrm'.
A whole minute or two went by. Scorpius carefully sifted the skin out of the cauldron and added half a glass of water for good measure.
Eventually, James sighed and put down the quill. "You know, just because I don't answer, doesn't mean I don't listen."
Scorpius lifted an eyebrow and almost asked, "It doesn't? Does that mean that, just because you're not looking at someone, doesn't mean that you don't see him?" But the words didn't quite make it.
Rolling up the parchment with brisk motions, Potter went on, "In order of mentioning: Thank you. That's great. That's the reason Hogwarts doesn't have student committees or give the students votes, because they would screw it all up. He's on business for S.I.M.M.E.R., not that it's any of yours, and also, it's still Professor Smith to you. Technically no, but it's too late now. And lastly, don't breathe in the fumes from the blood replenishing potion, please." He breathed out with a huff. "And stop trying to make 'fetch' happen."
Scorpius laughed. He couldn't help it.
He imagined a pleased smirk on Potter's face.
"Wow," he said after he had the giggling under control, although the grin was still there. "That was the most words I have ever heard you speak in one go." It was nice. You should to it more often.
"Words tend to confuse people," James replied, clearly somewhat more cryptically than he had really intended. Scorpius barely had time to grimace and think 'Isn't that the bloody truth', before he hastily added, "Pass me two porcupine quills, please. There should be some for the drowsiness draught. I want to try something."
Scorpius took two quills out of the basket Potter had indicated. Potter started making shavings off one of them with a big Swiss knife.
"Did you see my test, too?" Scorpius asked. He lingered near the wolfsbane table a moment, watching Potter's profile and his hands. Unsurprisingly, he was very skilful. "When you looked through our tests, I mean?"
"Sure," he said, but nothing more.
Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Well? How'd I do?"
"I'm not allowed to tell you," he answered lightly. He turned the knife over with a swift flick.
"Oh, come on."
"I'm not allowed, Malfoy." With some well-applied brute force, he broke off the tip of the quill he was working on. "You'll get them back next week, I imagine."
"But did I do well?" he asked again, returning to the problematic blood replenishing potion. It was throwing bubbles now which were spewing bubbles as they burst. Scorpius quickly stirred.
"I'm not allowed-"
"Come on, now, Potter. You must be allowed to tell me whether I did okay or not, at least?" He pouted even though Potter couldn't see it with his back still turned. He took away some of the twigs underneath the boiling kettle to reduce the heat and stomped them out under his heel.
Potter clicked his tongue, then sighed. "Potions is your strongest subject. You already know that you did okay."
For a moment, the bubbling of the cauldron and the soft scraping noise the quill made as Potter peeled it with his knife were the only sounds.
"Uh-huh." Scorpius dipped his hands into the water pail to wash soot off his palms and ventured, "Better than okay, maybe?"
Potter laughed.
Well, he blew air through his nose, which Scorpius noted down as a major accomplishment nonetheless.
"Get the me grater from downstairs," he merely replied, scraping up the strips of porcupine quill on his cutting board. "Or the rasp, if the grater's still soaking."
"And when I come back, you will tell me how I did in the test?" Scorpius rubbed his hands dry on his thighs.
At that, Potter actually glanced behind himself. Another accomplishment.
"Just get me the grater, man," he said, then shook his head and tsk'ed when Scorpius had left.
Scorpius may or may not have skipped down the stairs.
/TBC
That last bit, that dialogue happened by accident. I wrote it for fun one night and didn't even mean to include it here, but then it happened to fit. I know it's twee. I still kinda like it.
Also: Yes, James watched Mean Girls. Lily Luna forced him to. She and Albus are quoting from it all the time, which drives poor James completely nuts. Did anyone write this one-shot already?
Tomorrow I'm going to upload two chapters at once! Just so you know. Be prepared. (... for the coup of the century... *cough*)