Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Sev's Gang	By : RueRambunctious Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Lucius Views: 5169 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and make no money from this fair usage fiction.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
“I am livid about this,” Lucius declares.

Severus shifts in the hospital bed. He does not comment.

“Do you not care about it in the slightest?” Lucius snaps.

Severus spreads his arms in response, wincing before he is able to speak. “I am hardly in this situation on purpose.”

“I barely even know what your situation is,” Lucius sniffs coldly. His outrage and indignation comes off of his body in waves, fanned further by the desire for everyone around to feel warned by it, but Severus knows the blonde well enough to recognise what passes for worry on a proud pureblood's face.

“All you need to focus on is that I'm still alive, and I'll be fine,” Severus says carefully.

Lucius rests a hand over one of Severus' own, not caring that it will alert Severus to its shaking. Severus has noticed that already anyway, and knows that for all the righteous rage Lucius is exhibiting, the shaking comes just as much from fear.

Severus knows he looks like death, and could very easily have been dead, or worse. It is quite easy to picture from the tightness on Lucius' strained face how he would look if Severus actually had been killed, and it is strange to think how terrifying he had once been to Severus.

It is well into Severus' sixth year at Hogwarts and Lucius still has not laid claim to Severus' body in the violent way eleven-year-old Severus had once feared he would.

Severus feels physically sick recollecting that he had once thought Remus Lupin a preferable, safer alternative to being deflowered by the Malfoy heir. The nausea is accompanied by a tight pain in his chest, more insistent than his numerous other injuries, closing in on Severus' ability to breathe and making his eyes water a little from the sharpness of the grip.

“Are you quite alright?” Lucius asks urgently, his concern from the way Severus has shot forward clutching at his injured chest palpable on the blonde's pale face.

“Been better,” Severus mutters, squeezing his eyes closed at the pain, eyebrows narrowed, before smoothing his face with difficulty to attempt to gift Lucius with an expression of reassurance.

Lucius seems soundly unconvinced, but appreciates the younger boy's effort.

Severus tries to smile winningly, but between James Potter's insistent handling and the fury of a particular enchanted tree, stretching the swollen, ruptured skin of Severus' ordinarily thin lips is of no real help.

Sirius Black had actually almost succeeded in killing Severus. An equal (at best) match in a wand fight, Black had instead tricked Severus into following a werewolf down a passage, and only Potter's sliver of conscience had been Severus' saviour.

Severus had nearly been killed by a werewolf.

Severus could have been mauled and infected by a werewolf.

Severus had kissed and contemplated coupling with a werewolf.

Lucius has no idea what has Severus so drawn and white-faced, but he is a permanent fixture on the side of Severus' hospital bed for days.

When Lucius finally, reluctantly, leaves, Severus uses his wand to draw the curtains around his bed tightly drawn. He then casts a spell of his own invention, muffling all noise from the confines of his hospital bed.

Severus weeps hot, bitter, frightened tears, and wishes every Marauder dead.

It takes days before Severus is fit enough to leave his hospital bed, and he hardly bothers to concentrate on the books Evan leaves him to study as he was already far ahead of his peers. He would have rather liked to be permitted to actually see Evan, but the nurse insists that Severus is not well enough to visit, and passes the books to Severus herself.

Severus is certain of the lie, as he has heard the Marauders larking about and arguing within their own hospital beds for days. Even sodding Remus Lupin entertains guests.

Severus' own seclusion seems to come from Dumbledore's orders to keep quiet about Lupin's horror of a secret. The matter smarts worse from Dumbledore's disgusting assertion that Severus now owes James Potter of all people a life debt.

Surely admitting that Severus' life was almost forfeit means Black should be punished for his doings, but then when are things in this joke of a school ever skewed towards vile Gryffindors being punished for their sins?

Lupin isn't being expelled either.

No one is being warned about the danger he poses, and Severus is magically bound not to.

Lucius can sense Severus' baulking at the injustice, although they are unable to discuss the details, and Lucius fights to take Severus out of school for a day or two once sufficiently healed, before returning to classes.

Classes with the Marauders, that Severus does not wish to think about. They've been subdued of late in the hospital wing, shockingly seeming guilty for their crimes, but not guilty enough to leave him alone altogether.

“Perhaps some time with our mutual friend will make you feel better,” Lucius murmurs succinctly after Severus makes yet another disparaging comment about blood traitors.

Severus blinks at him and agrees.

“I'd like to… get involved deeper,” Severus says softly.

Lucius blinks for a moment then narrows his eyes. “When you're better,” he declares.

“Can we ask tonight?” Severus murmurs.

Lucius fixes him with a look. “What did they do to you?” he asks again.

Severus sighs, a look of frustration etched deeply into his young face. “You know I can't tell you.”

Lucius meets Severus' eyes, and has no idea how to express his feelings over the boy's pain.

This night's Death Eater meeting is being held at the manor house of the Rosiers. They are related to Lucius' wife Narcissa, and once admitted by a house elf, Lucius leads Severus through the building as though thoroughly familiar with its layout.

Severus feels a little embarrassed that he has never before entered this house of one of his closest friends.

Evan's father is stood bowed over a table with Lord Voldemort and some of the other older men: Avery's father, Roddy and Rab's father, Nott, Mulciber, and Antonin Dolohov. They seem to be discussing strategy of some sort: their hushed voices varying in tones of grim satisfaction.

Severus naturally scans the large room for friends and foes. Walden Macnair is sitting with Crabbe and Goyle, dull-witted but aristocratic men who often gravitate around Lucius' stronger personality, and have recently taken the Mark.

Bellatrix sits across the room from them at the other fireplace, Rodolphus looking bored beside her, as she enthuses with a boy a few years younger than Severus himself. Lucius has brought the boy to Severus' attention recently: the son of a rising star in the Ministry, Barty Crouch Junior is currently one of the youngest but most zealous Death Eaters. Just the sight of Crouch tends to twist Severus' stomach. The boy is shaggy-haired and usually clad in a leather jacket, and paired with his sneering arrogance Severus is always strongly reminded of Sirius Black.

Worst still is that the boy is pale and clever, with soft locks almost the colour of Remus Lupin's in the glow of the fire.

The boy seems like a nightmare merger of some of Severus' most hated foes, and it makes him uneasy in a way he cannot vocalise.

Avery and Nott appear in quick succession in the fireplace and dust themselves down before looking up. They notice Severus immediately and question him almost imperceptibly across the room by the tightening and widening of the skin around their eyes: 'Are you okay?'

It's the first time they've seen him in days, as Dumbledore has somehow obstructed all of Severus' schoolmates from visiting him, with the exception of Lucius, who has legal rights and privileges that so far the manipulative teacher has not managed to overcome.

Severus gives a minute nod of his head -although perhaps that is a lie, because his nerves still feel raw- and looks up to see what has Lucius' attention.

Lord Voldemort is approaching, the other adults clearing away items on the table as though not even house elves can be trusted with the details of their conversation.

Severus feels his limbs stiffen as the amount of times he has been in the wizard's presence seem to do nothing to ease Severus' feelings of fear and inadequacy. Something about the handsome, charismatic brunette oozes danger, in a way that makes Lucius seem like a kitten in comparison.

Lord Voldemort greets Lucius fondly, the blonde responding in kind with measured enthusiasm.

Then Voldemort turns and fixes his strange eyes on Severus. He has a way of reading Severus' skills, bigotries and trigger points, flattering and cutting in a dizzying fashion that tends to create loyalty in the others.

Severus can tell what Lord Voldemort is doing, and rather expects Lucius can too. Lucius is unfazed by manipulation and submits to Voldemort's whims because he believes in the righteousness of the cause.

Severus is unconvinced about that, but he has sworn loyalty to the performance and knows he rather enjoys being valued for his deviousness and skillful duelling.

This silly little club makes Severus feel dangerous, and perhaps that will be enough to protect him from further betrayal and hurt in the future. He finds himself asking Lord Voldemort for the opportunity to be involved in what Lucius has previously alluded to being violent raids.

The grip Lucius takes of Severus' shoulder shows he is appalled by Severus' transgression from the agreed course of action, but Lord Voldemort looks amused and thrilled.

He agrees to arrange Severus' first real blooding.

Severus stays with Lucius that night, surprised to find Narcissa has her own bedroom, and wing, and that his own guest room is close to where Lucius sleeps.

Severus cannot help thinking about what he could have erroneously given to Lupin, and how rattled and protective Lucius has been of him.

Bravely, Severus gets up and makes his way into Lucius' bedroom.

It is clear that Lucius has been unable to sleep, and sits up to look at Severus the moment the teen steps inside. Lucius is shirtless under the quilt, and his hair is in one of the worst messes Severus has ever seen it in.

“Severus,” Lucius intones softly. “Do you need something?”

“You,” Severus blurts, and pads barefoot to Lucius' bed wondering whether he will be rebuked.

Lucius' eyes widen comically. “Excuse me?”

Severus hovers beside the bed. “Can I..?”

“May you,” Lucius finds himself muttering, but pulls the quilt to the side, granting Severus entry.

Severus stares at the sheets for a moment, unsure whether to actually join Lucius or not. Lucius himself says nothing, watching Severus' actions with bated breath.

Severus darts onto the bed, and before he can lose his nerve, crashes his lips against Lucius'.

Lucius falls back against his headboard with a surprised little gasp, but puts his arms out and gently guides Severus towards him.

“What's this for?” Lucius asks a little huskily, staring at Severus with an intense expression.

Severus licks his lips nervously. They're scabbed over, but healing. “May I?” he asks.

“Where is this coming from?” Lucius asks.

Severus shrugs. “Why are you surprised? Isn't this what you kept telling me would happen?”

Lucius' eyes linger on Severus in a way he cannot understand. “I expected to see it coming,” Lucius replies.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” Severus asks a little petulantly.

“When I have assessed you to be in your right mind,” Lucius responds, still giving Severus that concerned look.

Severus tilts his chin upwards stubbornly. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“Because you've been in a hospital bed for days and now you are in my lap,” Lucius answers pointedly.

“Lucius,” Severus groans, frustrated, “I-”

“Need comfort?” Lucius suggests, slowly reaching out and brushing Severus' dark hair behind a pale ear.

Severus feels his stomach twist, because hearing it like that makes him feel weak.

Lucius seems to understand, because he presses a remarkably gentle kiss on Severus' nose. The boy looks up.

Lucius wraps the duvet around them both, cocooning Severus somewhere he feels safe. The dark-haired teen slouches down against Lucius' chest and plays lightly with the lengths of blonde hair surrounding him.

Lucius curls his arm around Severus' shoulder.

“I want it to be you,” Severus tells Lucius' hair.

Lucius blinks and looks down, further hiding Severus under the blonde curtain. “You want what to be me?” he asks.

Heat rises up Severus' throat swiftly, but he stares Lucius down courageously. “You know,” Severus mutters.

“I do not,” Lucius responds. “What are you taking about, Princeling?”

Severus prettily colours a bit more. “It,” he mutters. “I want you to...”

Lucius blinks in sudden understanding. “If you cannot even ask for that properly you are certainly not ready to decide upon receiving it,” he says carefully.

Severus chews his rough lip. “It doesn't have to be tonight,” he mutters. “Just… I've decided. I want it to be you.”

Lucius gazes down at Severus' stubborn face, feeling a swell of fondness in his chest that cannot overcome the cold feeling in his gut that something drastic has happened to spur Severus' decision.

“Why the change of heart?” Lucius asks. Severus' hair hangs down against Lucius' arm, mixing with the black, swirling tattoo there. The sensation causes the fine, blonde hairs on Lucius' arms to rise on end.

Severus shrugs, all muscle and bone against Lucius' chest. “Near death experiences give you clarity of mind, right?” he responds.

Lucius rather gets the feeling there is far more to it than that, but nods to avoid upsetting the teen.

“We will discuss this when you are older,” Lucius declares softly.

“I'm almost of age,” Severus protests.

“So you hardly have long to wait,” Lucius points out.

Severus chews his unfortunate lip again. “I want it to be you, Luce.”

Lucius rolls them both onto their sides carefully and pins Severus into being the smaller spoon. “Of course it is going to be me, but you are still going to have to wait until you are a big boy,” Lucius teases.

Severus laughs despite himself, and Lucius smiles, pressing his lips against the other boy's warm neck.

“I don't want to wait,” Severus grouses, pushing back against Lucius' form.

Lucius almost chokes, and clamps down hard on any urges to do as he is asked. “Do you remember what happened to you the last time you acted like a harlot?” Lucius growls softly in Severus' ear.

Severus feels his pulse hammer loudly in his ears. He rather wants to initiate something with Lucius, but the blonde is right, he isn't quite ready for… what he's asking. His mouth goes dry. “Yes,” he squeaks.

Lucius pinches Severus' bottom, amused at how the smaller boy flinches, and leans over him, staring him down. Severus' eyes are wide and dark.

“You will be patient,” Lucius declares firmly, “or else you shall face the consequences.”

Severus looks away and shifts their weight, pulling Lucius further on top of himself even as his brain screamed at him to back down. He looks back up at Lucius with an expression that is one part nerves and two parts sultry. “What consequences?” Severus asks breathily.

Lucius takes a deep breath, resting on his elbows as Severus presses his legs against Lucius' own. Lucius takes both of Severus' thin wrists in one hand and scolds, “I will punish you.”

“Promise, Luci?” Severus whispers, looking terrified by his own daring.

Lucius cannot help but chuckle darkly, well aware that he is jabbing into Severus' stomach just as much as Severus is poking into him. “Call me that again, Princess, and I will hex off your tongue,” Lucius warns.

“Bit of a waste, considering what I'd let you do with it,” Severus whispers.
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Sev's Gang