Barbarism to Decadence.

((Thank you, once again, for the reviews. My chapters aren't long like most, Pittwitch, but that's because I find that when I read long chapters like that, my eyes get strained a lot more quickly. I prefer a slightly shorter chapter so that I can take breaks between.

Abbi Cee: I think you are right. I knew this story wouldn't be an instant hit, because most people prefer to stick to canon characters, but I couldn't resist Vance and think he's a good match for Severus. I'm glad you are enjoying it so far!))

Finally the introductions were concluded and everyone was once more in a state of lazy relaxation helped along by the warmth of the sun and the ease that had descended after their moment of mass hysterics. Vance stretched out on his side in the grass, propped up on an elbow, grinning as he flipped through the pages of his copy of Alice's Adventures.

"Would anyone care to start with discussion of the first chapter?" He glanced up, fingertips resting just beneath one of his favorite lines in the chapter, wondering if anyone would wish to discuss that line. He waited and then blinked as the angelic Slytherin lifted his hand slightly, looking rather sour, which seemed not at all correct on his cherub's face.

"Yes, Phineas?" He canted his head, rewarded with a lightening of the boy's expression and a small smile that made his damnedable heart skip joyfully in his chest. "Well, V-Vance...I suppose I simply do not understand the book at all. Our lives are surrounded by magic, so we probably could make a potion that would shrink the drinker, and we know plenty of sentient beasts that have more intellect than the common variety. But, I've never come across a rabbit in clothing that could talk, even Animagi can not speak in their beast forms."

The breathless young wizard stopped suddenly, looking to the other students with a flush blooming like roses in his cheeks, then his gaze turned back on Vance. The professor had a time of it avoiding getting lost in those eyes, and he smiled to himself as he looked down to the book. "We'll get nowhere fast trying to compare the lives of witches and wizards to that of Muggles. They dream of things that to them are impossible, but to us are everyday happenings. They are somewhat lucky for their gift of imagination, for I guarantee there are plenty of wizards and witches who have little, as almost anything is possible in our world."

He stopped and sat up, closing the book and setting it aside as he delved into the serious subject. "You see...Muggles must go through life with only their wits, hands and achievements to propel them forward. They have nothing in the manner of magic, unless you count their endlessly inventive minds. Every advancement of Muggle society and technology has been fought hard for and won through blood, sweat and tears. Their whole lives are lived, for the most part, in constant hard work trying to survive and better themselves."

He noted Draco Malfoy's wrinkled nose and chuckled, pinning the boy with his gaze. "Indeed, Draco. Even the poorest of wizardingkind has no idea the true struggle life is without magic. Squibs understand it to some degree, but even they are still a part of our world, and thus can take advantage of its gifts. Necessity is the mother of invention, and there is a reason we in the wizarding world are so far behind the Muggles when it comes to technology. We have no need to advance. They build trains, planes, cars, ships, and likely soon they will begin trying for teleportation devices similar to our port-keys or Apparition."

"We have various forms of transportation, true, but most are merely for theatre, not everyday use. Such as the Hogwarts train, or the thestral-drawn coaches. They're interesting, but in everyday use we rely on the floo, Apparition and port-keys. Why would we create vehicles, or airplanes? Why should we have telephones, when we can use owls or the floo? What practical use do we have for the internet? I see many of you aren't even aware of the things I'm talking about. It just goes to show how utterly disconnected our world is from theirs, though we share the very same planet."

He paused and sighed, having went wildly off subject, and he jerked to pull himself back onto track. "Anyhow, my point is that to us this story might seem silly, or even commonplace. The reason for that is the manner in which our world has jaded our eyes to the fantastic. Look at Alice and the other books we read, as if you'd never encountered anything magical, as if you were not magical yourselves. Approach the fantasy as a Muggle, and realize that these stories are purely make-believe, invented by the mind of a man who never touched a wand, flew on a broom or bowed to a Hippogriff. This man didn't even know such things were possible."

He leaned back, gazing up at the sky and considering for a few more moments, then nodded to the students. "I think we'll end here for today. I want you to read the next two chapters and, if you think of any questions, jot them down as they come to you. We'll meet here again in one week's time, unless it is raining or cold, then we'll meet in the Great Hall. Class dismissed." He chuckled as the majority of them fled, chattering and looking animated.

"Excuse me, Vance?" He glanced up, shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazed into the sweet face of the pretty Slytherin. "Yes, Phineas?" He had the sudden, and terrifyingly strong, urge to pull the boy down atop him and claim his lips. The feeling made him shudder in self-loathing and he wanted to be in his room, desiring it with a sick longing. He needed to find out what was causing these inappropriate feelings, and fast.

"I have finished the book. Do you think we could talk about it sometime this week before class next Saturday?" The boys voice was soft and slightly shaky, as if he were frightened of Vance. He sat up and then rose to his feet, grabbing his book, fighting to keep his gaze off the child. "If you'd like. I'm sure you've heard from the other students that my door is always open, no matter what time of night or day. Do you know where my quarters are?" He finally chanced a glance at the boy, gritting his teeth on the hungry response of his body to the warm periwinkle gaze. "Yes, sir."

Something was very wrong with him, wildly broken, for he wanted nothing more in that moment than to drop to his knees and draw the blond angel into his arms. He yearned for the boy, and the feeling was familiar, reminding him exactly of how he responded to Snape from the moment they'd met. He took a step back, nodding and forcing his words out past frozen lips. "Very well, stop by anytime." Then he swirled around and almost ran to the castle, needing the solitude and comfort of his room.

------

Snape slammed his door behind himself and collapsed on his couch as the potion began to wear off, his breathing coming in harsh, ragged pants. The afternoon had been magical, but it had also been one of the hardest things he'd ever done in his life. He could sense the desire in Vance's gaze every time he looked at him, knew that he desired the pretty boy he thought Snape was, and it was difficult to decide how to feel about that. He was thrilled by the heat in those golden eyes, but he was jealous of it, too. Vance might claim that he wanted Severus Snape, might pretend to desire him, but no man could feel that and yet still respond so strongly to the petite, blond-headed cherub named Phineas. They were almost complete opposites, and it hurt Snape deeply that Vance's tastes were so predictable.

He'd been hoping that Vance wouldn't be moved by the youth's beauty, but that hope was in vain. Could he fault Vance for wanting a pretty, young boy more than a bitter, aging wizard? Maybe it wasn't entirely fair, but that did little to tamp the pain in his chest. He sighed as he realized he'd forgotten to change and the new uniform he'd been wearing was now stretched uncomfortably over his much larger frame. He flicked his wand and sent it away from his body and into his bedroom, then rose and moved to follow it.

The real problem now was trying to control himself and keep from giving in to the handsome wizard's advances, should he overtly make them, toward young Phineas Verdey. On one hand, he wanted very much to be seduced by the gorgeous man, but the other hand was clenched in a fist at the thought of their first, and possibly only, encounter occurring when he was not himself. He deserved better than to be desired only when he was Polyjuiced up as some pretty, little tidbit. He had his pride, what little of it there was left, and he wasn't going to sacrifice it just to ease his own libido.

He dressed silently, recalling the sight of Vance sprawled on the grass and laughing freely. He lovingly remembered every wrinkle in the corners of his eyes, the exact curve of his mouth and the rumbling, warming tenor of his laughter. He'd wanted to bend and press his ear to the solid plane of the man's chest, wanted to hear that laughter from the inside and see if it was as sweetly moving there as it was when it danced upon the air. The memory made his heartbeat speed up and he shivered down to his toes, slipping on his robes and wishing he could trust the man. He wanted him desperately, and it hurt to think he might not be everything he appeared.

------

"I'm not like that. I'm not!" Vance muttered to himself as he restlessly paced through his rooms, lips skinned back from his teeth in a painful grimace. Never before had he felt any sort of sexual attraction for a child, and even if most people considered Phineas 'of age', he was still a child in Vance's eyes. Anyone under twenty-one was a child to him, which was a decision he'd made when he'd turned thirty. He wasn't the type of man who needed youth to bolster his confidence, and generally a person's appearance never attracted him at all.

Oh, he could appreciate beauty as a man might appreciate a lovely sculpture or painting, but it was the mind and soul behind the face that would awaken his lust. He barely knew anything about Phineas, and certainly nothing that would make him desire the child. Granted, his exam had revealed a clever mind, wisdom beyond his years and a truly noble heart, but so had Hermione Granger's and he certainly wasn't trying to get in her knickers. So, why Phineas?

He frowned and flopped on his couch, staring into the fire and feeling as if he'd swallowed one of the embers. He burned down low, his lust for the cherub-faced boy a very physical thing, again reminding him of his feelings for Severus. How was it possible to long for two utterly disparate people? Especially since he hadn't felt this way in seventeen years. Was it possible that seeing Severus and responding to him had opened a flood-gate that had been closed ever since the night of his parent's deaths? He sighed and shuddered at the thought, wondering if he'd start lusting after more and more students, until he became the sort of depraved, pedophiliac lothario Snape seemed to think he was.

The very idea made his gorge rise and he clamped his throat shut, groaning thickly. "No, Merlin...please, no." He drew his knees up to his chin and hugged his legs tightly against his chest, knowing he'd rather die than hurt a child. His forehead fell against his denim-clad knees and he released a harsh sob, begging his body not to betray him in such an outrageous manner. The most troubling part of it all was he sensed an answering desire in Phineas, as if they were both thrumming on the same wave-length, and he knew if the boy acted on that lust, he might not have the will to deny him. It had been so long, and his feelings for the boy seemed just as strong as they were for Severus. If Severus had shown any willingness...well, let's just say neither of them would have been seen for weeks.

Could he keep himself in check? Perhaps there was a potion to counter-act lust, one he could look up or ask Severus about. That last bit nearly made him laugh, his face pressing harder into his knees. Yes, that would be a splendid idea. Let's ask Severus Snape for a potion that can rid him of the lust he had for a boy nearly half his age, one that was clearly connected closely with the older wizard, and a member of his house. That would go over smashingly.