The Secret Diary of Severus Snape

Title: The Secret Diary of Severus Snape: Entries: 89-102
Author: Mimine (mimine101@hotmail.com)
Pairing: Various Snape pairings
Warning: Some teacher student. Chan.
Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR’s. No money made, no infringement of rights intended.
Notes: My enormous gratitude to Roo for her excellent beta. Many thanks to chaffongal for giving me quite a few ideas about this chapter and most notably how to write Snape’s father.

11/4/1976
What have I done? Jigger has gone completely round the bend. It was… embarrassing, that’s what it was. Fucking crazy!

I was making a dissolving solution. Dumbledore requested a very potent variable for some unknown reason. There are important safety procedures to take into account. I may be a lowly fifth year who shouldn’t be allowed into NEWT level Potions anymore but I know a hell of a lot about potion making. I have all procedures memorised. However, Jigger insisted on helping me. He was bringing me the ingredients so I wouldn’t have to leave the cauldron unattended for one second.

All would have gone well if he hadn’t grabbed a vial of dogwood instead of dropwort, something that I discovered after he had dumped it in my potion. It was nearly done but without the dogwood to as as a stabilising factor we were in serious trouble.

He managed to cast a containment spell so the explosion wasn’t as big as it could have been. Some of it did end up on me. Jigger lunged at me and started pulling off my clothes. I tried to hold on to my underwear at least but he pulled that down as well.

I had put my hands up to protect my face when the explosion happened. I could feel my palms stinging a bit but none had gotten to my face or hair. I showed my hands to him. I was in shock, trying to believe that I was relatively unharmed. He dragged me to his potions cabinet. He seemed too shocked to speak either .He put a soothing balm on a piece of gauze. I checked that it was indeed balm and let him pull my hand to his chest and pass the gauze over my irritated skin.

He hadn’t gotten any on him, the containment charm had protected him fully. He touched my arm and asked whether I was all right. I nodded and then he just… He collapsed. He fell on his knees in front of me, pressing his face against my thighs. He was whispering “I love you, Merlin help me, I love you” over and over again. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to do. His touch felt too awkward, his cheeks scratching against my thighs, his sweaty palms pressing right under my buttocks, kneading the skin. I didn’t want him touching me. It was just a game before, teasing him, making him come in his robes… I enjoyed that, but touching me naked as I was… That was different.

He let go at some point. He was still on his knees. He buried his face in his hands. I went to get my clothes but they were ruined.

“I’ll get you something,” he murmured. His voice was hoarse.

He tossed me a pair of extra robes he kept at his lab. I quickly slipped them on. A flickering smile in his expression told me how ridiculous I must have looked in them. He transfigured the robes to fit me and gently asked me whether I had an extra set of school robes. I nodded. He knows enough about my father to suspect that he may have sent me here with just one pair of robes… I asked for my shoes back. The potion had done its work and there wasn’t much left of them. Jigger transfigured his dragonhide gloves into a pair of boots. He told me I can keep the gloves after they turn back. He must have noticed how I stare at those gloves.

If he wants to bribe me into staying silent about all this I’ll also accept galleons.

12/4/1976
I went to Madam Pomfrey about my hands. Professor Kettleburn sent me, my second pair of robes is a little large for me and the sleeves rode up high as I dove to catch my bowtruckle.

Pomfrey tutted but as usual didn’t say much. I’d gone to her with mysterious burns before.

Frank Longbottom was also in the Infirmary getting his great big head bandaged after the tumble he took from his broomstick. That was one nasty foul. In a game with Hufflepuff! And they say Slytherins are too aggressive in Quidditch.

He smiled at me. I just nodded. Somehow the first thing that comes to mind whenever I look at him is him fishie oue out of the lake back in second year when Potter decided to teach me to swim. Afterward I’d suggested there was something defective with the logic of “Gryffindor throws Slytherin in the lake and loses points and then different Gryffindor takes drowning Slytherin out again and is awarded exactly the points the first Gryffindor had lost.” Longbottom had looked very uncomfortable while I shrieked all that in rather colourful language, my voice betraying me into a high-pitched squeak at times. He looked like he wanted to refuse the points.

It’s not his fault that whenever I see him I remember that day but I really can’t help it.

13/4/1976
Fucking Dolohov! He doesn’t deserve Evan. Was I as bad as Evan when I was with Lucius, I wonder?

I want to tell Evan about what is happening with Jigger and ask his advice but he’s with Dolohov all the time. Even when they’re not together, Dolohov is all he talks about. Antonin this, Antonin that. It’s sickening.

14/4/1976
I was with Jigger again this afternoon. I keep telling myself to stop but I don’t.

I let Jigger look but not touch. I took off all of my clothes. I liked the way he looked at me, the heat in his eyes. I know I’m not much to look at but I drive him crazy. I knelt on the floor and sat on my fingers. I wanted something bigger, more substantial. I thought perhaps I could use a bottle. I rather liked the idea of it but what would happen if it broke? ingeingers had to do. I rocked against my hand, my thumb pressing right under my balls. I spat on my other hand and started wanking.

Jigger’s eyes were bulging out of his head. He had taken out his prick and was stroking at it. I couldn’t see much, his large hand was hiding it, letting only the swollen crown peek through his fist from time to time.

Coming brought tears to my eyes. I kept pressing down on my fingers as I finished spurting. I understood the tears for what they weFrusFrustration. I knew what I wanted, a nice hard fucking, but I didn’t want it from Jigger. I didn’t want Jigger to touch me.

He cried out as his come fell all over the front of his robes, thick white gobs sliding on the shiny material.

I took my fingers out of my arse and got up slowly. The fire under my potion was dying and I was starting to feel a chill. I lifted the stirring charm, relit the fire and then chanced a cleaning charm on myself. It went fairly well but I still stank.

Jigger cleaned up as well. He got up and picked my robes from the floor. I put on my underwear and reached to take my robes from him. He had buried his face in them and was crying, his sobs muffled in the thick material.

I pulled my robes from his hands, my mind refusing to register what was going on. He reached to touch my face but I pulled back.

“Severus…”

I don’t know what he may have wanted to say, I just ran out of there as fast as I could.

What amoingoing to do now? I can’t tell on him, all of this is my fault. I’m the one who lead him on. And I can’t stop working as his assistant, I need the money.

What does he mean he loves me? I’m just giving something back because he’s on my side. I wish he could just ask me about my classes and promise me he’ll fail those fucking Gryffindors I hate and perhaps pat my head and tell me I’m doing all right. But no… he did it first, followed me around and found out I was fucking Lucius. He did say “You’re too young to be fucking around, Severus” in his way, but then he just tried to get some for himself as well.

Fuck! What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have provoked him. I’ve only got myself to blame for this mess now.

15/4/1976
I miss Evan. I did something stupid today. He was lying in bed, propped up on his elbows, reading. He was in his underpants. His back muscular and beautiful, his arse a gentle curve. All I could think of was how that wanker Dolohov was the first to fuck Evan. It should have been me. I was the one Evan wanted but I practically gave him to Dolohov with the way I treated him.

I pounced on Evan and tried to read his book over his shoulder. He cried out in surprise and then started to laugh when he realised it was me. I mock-wrestled with him. He surrendered easily even though he could lift me with one arm if he wanted. I was holding him down, hands flat on his chest.

I leaned prd pressed my lips on his. After some hesitation I let my lower body touch his. I had started to get hard.

He didn’t kiss me back. His body was rigid under mine. I tried to kiss him again and rubbed myself on him. He avoided my lips and gently pushed me off him.

“I love Antonin, I’m not doing this.”

Antonin…It’s always Antonin with his long face, half of it chin alone, his beady eyes and nasty expression. Not that I look so much better than him but it’s different with me. Evan and I have been friends all these years. I taught him how to wank, for fuck’s sake! And now he “can’t do this.”

“He doesn’t have to know,” I said. Evan shook his head. The answer was still no.

I called him a shithead and stormed off. I hid out at the student potions lab. It’s a fairly good hiding place. It’s almost guaranteed to be empty except for when exams are coming up.

I missed dinner. I wanted to lure Evan to a kitchen raid and just forget it all eating together at his bed. But Evan’s eyes were cold and he made a big production of looking the other way when I approached him.

Fuck. I’m hungry.

16/4/1976
I don’t like this. I thought Dumbledore only pretended to know everything that goes on in the castle but now I’m no longer so sure. He asked to see me. I walked up to his office thinking over the past few days and wondering what my professors, even McGonagall, might have had to say about me that had brought this on. I couldn’t think of anything.

Then I started wondering whether perhaps my father had done something terribly embarrassing and Dumbledore didn’t want me to find out from the Prophet. Last time it had been Father making a public appeal to allow Muggle testing in Potions research. It had been merely a letter to the Editor but it had caused quite a stir.

Last I started thinking that the reason Dumbledore wanted to see me was to announce my father’s death. The thought didn’t bring this feeling of suffocation that I get whenever I think about Mum, it was more like a light feeling, like freedom. By the time I was walking in Dumbledore’s office I was sure that father had died and I was trying to feel guilty over how happy the thought made me and vaguely apprehensive about what would happen now that I have no relatives left, along with a frankly frightening thought of Jigger asking for my custody and getting it. My imagination does tend to run at times…

It was nothing like I had thought. However, I know that it wasn’t what it seemed either. Dumbledore asked me how I am adjusting to having classes with my year again and told me how he fought against the Minister’s decision which he doesn’t support in the least. He was smiling to me and joked with one of his portraits about my House: “One of yours, Phineas, a touch of Ravenclaw in him as well but the perpetual bad mood definitely Slytherin.” The portrait looked me up and down with disdain and said that true Slytherins aren’t caught.

Dumbledore laughed. “The boy didn’t do anything, Phineas.”

The way the portrait was looking at me made me seriously doubt that. Dumbledore offered me a chocolate frog. He was smiling but his eyes… His eyes were cold. Cold steel, sharp, cutting through me.

It was strange. My mind felt numb and all of a sudden there it was, I was in Jigger’s office and the explosion had just happened. He was undressing me… What a thought to be having right at that moment! I made myself stop thinking about it. That strange numbness left me. Dumbledore was starting at me strangely. A silence fell between us for a while. I was the one to break it, asking whether I could be excused. I had Herbology.

Dumbledore seemed to wake from some reverie. He nodded, more to himself than to me, I think. Of course you may leave,” he said kindly. He was smiling but he didn’t fool me for a second.

17/4/1976
I asked about the portrai Dum Dumbledore’s office. I was with Avery in the Common Room. Hearing my description, a third year stood and st at at us both.

“You don’t know Phineas Nigellus? The least popular Headmaster Hogwarts ever had?”

“The name was anglicised to Black,” Lestrange shot with a sneer.

The boy bristled at the comment. I knew who he was, of course, his resemblance to his brother is becoming even more pronounced as the years pass. I had never really spoken to him before. Lower classmen very rarely dare talk to higher classmen. He himself seemed to realise he’d broken an unspoken rule. He was very flustered.

He turned to Lestrange and said that “Black” was still an honourable name. He was looking around, presumably for one of his cousins to back him up. They always treat him like a pet, having him follow them around, pinching his cheeks in public and baby-talking to him, especially Bellatrix. It is damned annoying. I wonder how he can take it.

23/4/1976
In a way I knew it before it happened. In a way I caused it. I’d had a nagging feeling at the back of my head all day. A warning, but I didn’t listen to it. I never do.

It’s been a week. A week and I can’t forget. I had decided not to write anything about it but what would that accomplish? I can’t forget. I close my eyes and the scenes play again and again with perfect clarity and then I have to stop as my heart starts to race and bile rises in my throat. I don’t like the taste of guilt.

He didn’t seem very willing to play that day, as though he too knew that something was wrong. I wouldn’t leave him alone. I lifted my robe to show him that I had nothing on underneath. Then I took it off completely and approached him. His mouth was half open, his expression glazed with lust. I remember thinking that although he is a handsome man he doesn’t look good when he’s aroused, he looks rather stupid and I like that.

I walked the short distance to his chair. I straddled him, naked as I was. He leaned to kiss me but I didn’t want to feel his dry lips on mine so I just kissed his neck. His skin was scratchy against my lips, prickling me. I liked that. I liked his warmth, his smell. He was hard inside his robes. I felt him as I rocked on top of him.

He started stroking me, his hands warm and soft against my back. He was gentle until he reached my buttocks. He grabbed me hard enough to bruise me there. I was hard, rubbing against his stomach. It felt soft under the material of his robes, he has a bit of a potbelly. I remember thinkinat iat it comes with age and that Father too is getting pudgy lately.

Jigger slipped two fingers inside me, carelessly, too fast and I bit hard on his neck, much harder than I had intended. He cursed at me and pulled on my hair to get me to let go. His fingers were large and dry, the friction burning and not altogether pleasurable.

I did stop biting him and stared dazedly at the imprint of my teeth on his throat, half wishing I could have done real damage. I’d been a breath away from drawing blood.

It all happened very quickly. I didn’t even hear the alohomora… perhaps Dumbledore had used a different spell. His anger made the room shake. I did not hear what he said, it was impossible with my blood humming in my ears so loudly I couldn’t hear anything, not even myself think.

All I knew was that I was suddenly on the floor and that Dumbledore had put Jigger in a full body bind. McGonagall was holding back Dumbledore’s hand. He seemed about to curse Jigger. Perhaps McGonagall was the one to put Jigger in the body bind to protect him from anything worse.

Dumbledore left with his prisoner after instructing McGonagall to take me to the Infirmary.

She threw my robe at me and yelled at me to cover myself. I chanced a look at her. Her face was deathly white, even her lips were white. The only colour on her were her eyes, large and feverish. I met them for a moment but I had to look away.

It was a quick flash, as quick as it always is. A felt her. Red flashes and sharp spikes, anger and pain. I had to look away from her. My mouth had gone dry and my hands were shaking as I tried to fasten my robes.

I don’t remember the long walk to the Infirmary. I could still feel flashes of what McGonagall was thinking and I tried to tune it out. There were images of her and Jigger in there that told me more than I ever wanted to know about their relationship. I knew she was angry at me. Dumbledore had obviously blamed Jigger but McGonagall… Even though she said nothing to me I knew she was blaming me.

Pomfrey was waiting for us, pale, her features drawn. I submitted to her examination without resistance, not even at the most humiliating parts of it. I answered all of her questions. She needed several attempts to manage to ask them, especially the one about whether Jigger “had entered my anus with his penis.”. Her first attempt at this one had been “has he put his… ahown own there.” Poor Pomfrey.

She gave me a Calming Draught (and I suspect took one herself after). When Dumbledore came for me she didn’t let him see me.

I spoke with Dumbledore the next morning. McGonagall fetched me from the Infirmary. Or rather what was left of her. There were bags under her eyes making her look… well, I don’t know how old she is but she looked at least ten years older. Her hair was pulled back in a bun so tight it looked painful. Pomfrey didn’t want to let me go yet but McGonagall would have none of it.

Answering Dumbledore’s questions wasn’t the same even though they weren’t that much different than Pomfrey’s. I volunteered as little information as possible but all the while I could feel this numbness, this feeling that was as though Dumbledore was poking around in my brain looking for the answers himself. I felt memories beginning to leak. Jigger burying his face in my thighs, Jigger rubbing against me as we stirred, and with them a sudden memory of Lucius sitting me on his prick… I forced myself to think of nothing, absolutely nothing, just empty my brain completely.

Dumbledore’s expression was impenetrable. The façade of the benign, eccentric Headmaster was gone forever. His face could have been set in stone, his eyes were pure ice, sharp and so intense I couldn’t bear feeling them on me. He gave a slight nod, concluding some internal debate, and asked me whether I had anything I wished to add.

There was nothing. I had admitted that I had been the one to initiate every encounter and I had clearly said that there hadn’t been anything more than fondling and that I was sure that if I had asked him to, Jigger would have stopped.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at that last part but said nothing. He asked me whether I’d had sexual relations with anyone before Jigger.

I shook my head.

He insisted, asked if that’s my answer. He tried to go for his “kind” routine again and said he wanted to know whether anyone else had taken advantage of me. An older student perhaps.

I looked him straight in the eye and lied. “No, sir, there hasn’t been anything like that.”

He knows. Perhaps Jigger told him, perhaps he did somehow enter my mind… either way, he knows about Lucius.

Jigger won’t go to Azkaban. No one was forthcoming with information but I managed to find out a few things.. One would think that the whole affair had nothing to do with me.

Phineas Nigellus’ fine features were twisted in distaste as he recounted it. “A grown man, bursting in tears like that… that was a sight I hadn’t seen in a while.”

Minister Devlin himself came to intercede in Jigger’s behalf. It would have been too embarrassing, a professor here, respected and renowned Potions Master from a famous family, recipient of a Paracelsus. The scandal would have been too much. He will be announcing an early retirement for “health reasons.”

25/4/1976
Dumbledore called me in his office to inform me of how things will go. I already knew most of what had gone on from Nigellus, still there were a few surprises.

I asked whether my father has been told. Dumbledore avoided my eyes.

“I take it he has, then?” I said and it wasn’t really a question.

Dumbledore nodded.

I understood his expression far better than I wished. I smiled. “I’ll make it easier for you. Did he ask for money?”

Dumbledore looked up in surprise, probably debating whether he should lie to me. He told me that my father wants Jigger to pay for the rest of my tuition and also asked for ten thousand galleons as compensation. The idiot. Jigger is worth millions.

Dumbledore finished by informing me that Jigger won’t be tried but is not to have any contact with me whatsoever until I have reached the age of majority.

“My father asked for that?”

Dumbledore stared at me carefully before replying. “No, I did.”

Dumbledore’s condition. Apparently what he saw of my father horrified him enough to have him ask for some measure that would prevent my father from whoring me to Jigger in any more direct way than he already had. It was amusing how Dumbledore was still seeing me as the victim in all this.

My father found a way to make a profit of the situation. It shouldn’t have surprised me. It didn’t, really. It just… Well, I was hoping I’d be wrong. I asked Dumbledore whether my father had asked about me at all.

“He has authorised us to Obliviate you should we deem it necessary.”

Those words came like a punch in the gut. Dumbledore quickly reassured me that he had no intention of doing that.

I was actually relieved that Father didn’t want to see me. I asked whether I could be excused and Dumbledore let me go.

As I was walking back to my dormitory I suddenly turned and ran to the closest bathroom. I barely made it in time. I threw up what little food I’dagedaged to force myself to eat. My stomach kept convulsing long after I had emptied it completely.

We had no Potions all week because Jigger is supposed to be ill. I know he’s already left Hogwarts, the others will be told on Monday. Evan thinks I know what’s wrong with Jigger and I’m worried about him.

I wonder how long it will be before people start catching up on what happened. This is Hogwarts. Nothing stays secret for long.

26/4/1976
I thought that I couldn’t be made to feel worse about the whole situation than I already do. I was wrong.

It hit me at breakfast when I didn’t see Jigger there. Dumbledore briefly explained why he had to leave. I saw the pain in the other Slytherins’ faces. We’ve been orphaned. For all his faults, Jigger had been a good Head of House. Now Slinkhard, a bloody Ravenclaw is acting Head of Slytherin and we will get a new Potions Master and ideally also a Slytherin to fill both spots. Probably next year as there is just a month left until our OWLs.

I realised that I would miss Jigger and wished once more that I hadn’t been so stupid. Evan put his arm around my shors ars and that did it for me. I threw my hair in front of my face. I felt strands of it getting plastered against my wet cheeks. As soon as I could I left the Hall.

The rest of the day passed in a daze. I hardly ate anything. I kept feeling that everyone was looking at me, pointing and whispering. And then at night…

Fuck! I don’t even want to think about it, let alone write it down. But I must because I really can’t tell whether it happened or not. I was beside myself, I try to remember it all and my memories have an eerie, dreamlike quality.

I remember that mlesclescope kept going in and out of focus. I kept adjusting it but it was useless. I was muttering to myself, up alone in the cold room, trying to get the bloody thing to work. I threw it on the floor and actually enjoyed the sound it made as it broke. I started kicking it, cursing at it. I had absolutely no control over what I was doing.

I felt someone grabbing me from behind, hands clamped around my wrists with bruising force. I struggled and nearly broke free but my captor was strong. He practically carried me behind a desk and threw me on the floor. I remember cursing but he must have cast Silencio on me. There was no sound. He then cast a mild restraining charm. My rage doubled when I realised I couldn’t get up (and do what? Attack my telescope again? I honestly don’t know).

I was still screaming silently, blood roaring in my ears in rage when I heard voices. Professor Sinistra’s voice yelling and demanding to know what had happened and Remus Lupin apologising and explaining how he had accidentally dropped his telescope.

Sinistra quickly calmed down. I heard her casting Reparo on the thing and then urging Lupin to be more careful in the future. She didn’t take points.

I had finally made the connection between my mysterious saviour and Lupin. I am still finding it rather hard to believe that Lupin was so strong. He certainly doesn’t look it. He came over me and asked gently whether I would behave if he lifted the charms.

I just stared at him. He studied me for a moment and then he lifted them. I slowly rose from the floor. My back was hurting, my head too, I must have bashed it as I was struggling on the floor. I didn’t want to touch the memories of what had just happened. They were too confusing, too embarrassing.

Lupin was still staring at me, his expression neutral. I expected him to look triumphant, to give any indication as to why he had saved me from Sinistra’s wrath.

“What are you playing at, Lupin?” To my horror, my voice was nothing more than a whisper, tearing out of my aching throat.

He smiled. I got an urge to hit him with the most disfiguring hex I know. “Don’t I get a thanks?” he said lightly.

A curse. A fucking Unforgivable. Fucking Cruciatus!

I started dusting off my robes. Had I been rolling on the floor? I was sore everywhere.

“I didn’t think you’d thank me,” he answered his own question. “Do you need any help with the telescope, provided that you won’t break it again?” he added.

So fuc cal calm and matter of fact about it all. With stunning eloquence I yelled, “Fuck you, Lupin. Leave me alone!” and ran off. “Yelled” is stretching it a bit. I believe “squawked” would be more accurate.

27/4/1976
I should have brewed myself a remedy for my throat yesterday, before going to bed but I was too tired. I could only talk in whispers today and anything I tried to eat or drink felt like jagged glass.

Lupin was staring at me. I thought I had imagined it at first but Evan also noticed it.

29/4/1976
Everywhere I turn the last two days I see Lupin. And not Lupin and his friends about to play some nasty trick on me. Just Lupin. Is he that desperate for that thanks? He is welcome to wait until hell freezes over. I didn’t ask him to cover for me with Sinistra.

30/4/1976
I thought I really was over Lucius but I was wrong. Gods, it hurts so much I can’t breathe. Not just emotionally. The bastard hit me hard.

I was at the potions lab, finally brewing something for my throat. I was sick of talking in whispers and really didn’t want to see Pomfrey if I couloid oid it. Lupin’s habit of following me around had extended to the lab, where he pretended to brew a Strengthening Solution. I gave him a glare when he entered my hideout and he said that the fact that we temporarily don’t have Potions classes doesn’t mean we shouldn’t study for our OWLs.

I mostly ignored him, even when he was making such gross mistakes that I fee feeling my skin crawl.

He was in the storage room, out of sight when the lab door opened and Lucius walked in. I tried to tell him that I wasn’t there alone but he grabbed me and slammed me against the wall before I had a chance to speak. His elbow pressed against my throat, crushing my windpipe. My feet were hardly touching the floor.

Lucius was livid. He asked me what I had said about him. “Nothing,” I tried to say.

I had closed my eyes. I didn’t want him to see that I was afraid. I felt the tip of his wand against my temple. It was burning hot. Lucius asked whether I was sure of what I was saying. He eased the pressure on my throat. “Lucius,” I said in a placating tone.

He pressed on my neck again, choking me. “You won’t tell on me like you told on Jigger, it’s not that easy. Do you understand, you fucking whore?”

He’s called me a whore re bre but in a playful, affectionate tone. Those days are over. It hurt to know that he hates me now… It hurt more than I can describe. I started pleading with him, I’d forgotten that Lupin was just in the next room… I had forgotten everything. I just wanted Lucius to understand that it wasn’t my fault. Or at least to stop hurting me.

He raised his wand, to hex me I suppose… He didn’t go through with it. “You’re not worth it,” he said with disgust. “You’re not worth even that.”

He left. I collapsed on the floor slowly, rubbing against my neck. A hand on my shoulder reminded me of Lupin’s presence. I whispered at him to leave me alone.

“I’m sorry about what happened. I would I would have stepped in, but it would have made things worse, wouldn’t it?”

I nodded and got up, shaking his hand off my arm. I wiped at my face with my sleeve. Lupin was tactfully looking the other way.

He insisted on helping me pack my things. I carefully bottled the soothing potion for my throat. His Strengthening Solution was a complete failure. I suggested paying more attention to the part where the instructions said “bring to boil and then add the porcupine nettles.” It wasn’t his only mistake but it was the main reason his potion had failed.

He thanked me and then he asked me whether I wanted to report what Lucius did.

“Because Snivellus is always telling on everyone, isn’t he?” I shot at him.

“I’m only trying to help you.”

“Fuck off! I don’t need your help!” I hissed. I grabbed my book bag from his hands and left.

Dumbledore knows about Lucius. I don’t know how but he does. And Lucius knows that Dumbledore knows and inevitably thinks I was the one to tell him. How can he think so little of me?

And what the fuck does Lupin want from me? Did the others put him up to this? I don’t know what to think. I can only hope Lupin didn’t understand what Lucius was talking about. I can’t stand the thought of what happened with Jigger becoming public knowledge. Lupin is smart, though. He could put two and two together.

2/5/1976
As if my life wasn’t complicated enough. As if I didn’t have enough to think about with fucking OWLs coming up and Lucius hating me and McGonagall wanting my head on a platter…

Lupin kissed me. We were out by the lake. I was harvesting some chamomile and suddenly there he was in front of me, having decided that this was the best place to sit and study History of Magic. I asked him where his friends were and he told me they’d gone to Hogsmeade. As had mine, Evan not forgetting to pack his bottle of lubricant.

Lupin insisted on making small talk. I steadily ignored him. And then he revealed the real reason he was there.

“Have you had sex?”

I didn’t answer.

“I haven’t,” he said.

I didn’t say anything to that. That’s when he did it. He crouched next to me on the grass and pressed his lips against mine. Simply pressed, chastely, it might even have been his first kiss. I pushed him away in disgust. He lost his balance and lay sprawled on the grass.

I don’t know what came over me. I just jumped on him as he lay there and kissed him, really kissed him, coaxed his mouth open and stuck my tongue inside. He made a frightened sound at the back of his throat. I pulled back, catching his bottom lip between my teeth. I didn’t bite hard but his lips were chapped and I tasted blood in my mouth.

My whole body was covering his. His eyes were open in fright and his breathing laboured. I knew from what had happened at the Astronomy Tower that he could kick me off him any time he wanted. I studied his expression. He tried to look away from me but I pulled on his hair to make him stay right where he was. I let my thigh brush between his legs. I smiled. He wasn’t breathing hard because he was afraid.

“Is that what you want?” I taunted him.

He didn’t answer.

I pressed my thumb on his bloodied lip, wiping away some of the blood. “Go tell your friends who gave you this,” I said. I rubbed on his erection with my thigh again. His whole body jerked under me. I laughed and got off him. The truth was that the friction had started to affect me and I didn’t want him to know.

I licked his blood off my thumb. Some was still running down his chin. It was a good look for him. My prick gave a twitch. I decided to ignore it for once. The purpose was to humiliate Lupin, not to make him think that I find him attractive.

Do I find him attractive? I think it’s just hormones. And what is he on about? He’s probably trying to play a trick on me. He doesn’t seem to have told anyone that he knows about Jigger and me (I really can’t picture Potter and company not using that kind of ammunition). He’s still a Gryffindor and one of Potter’s gang to boot. It’s probably just a game, trying to get me to fuck him, to get me expelled, perhaps. Who would believe the nasty Slytherin over their big-eyed Gryffindor prefect?

It would be good if he really is attracted to me, though. I could hurt him for real. And even better, I could hurt them through him.

Or I could end up getting myself expelled or hexed to death before the professors get to do anything about it (and I don’t even know who would attack me first, Lupin’s friends or my own House).

What would be the point of fucking Lupin if I can’t let his friends know? Hell, I got a hard on thinking about it. Him on his knees and me behind him, splitting him in two with my prick. And Potter and Black and that fat shithead who always tags along after them watching, helpless.

It’s not a bad fantasy.