Memoirs of a Serpent's Son

Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son

--Age 15—part 5

Spring Term-continued

Oh karma sickens me.

After the damn article came out in the Quibbler, everyone and anyone has been giving me dirty looks as they pass by. If they have enough courage, anyway. More often than not, the students that see me coming go dashing off in the opposite direction to put as much distance between the “son of a Death-Eater” and themselves.

Because us Death-Eater spawn always like to prey on unsuspecting students, suck their blood then mash their bones up for bread.

HONESTLY, what do they think we are, GIANTS?

To make matters even worse, that stupid Ravenclaw COW has reattached herself to Potter now that he’s Mr. Hero again and not the daft little boy that didn’t understand girls back in Madam Puddifoot’s. She’s a quick one, isn’t she?

At least on the one hand, Potter seems mildly confused about the matter himself. But it’s not as though he’s trying to pry her off of him or anything.

God I hate him. I think I should steal his glasses….

I should, just to check and make sure they’re working and all because I cannot, for the life of me, understand what he sees in that sopping mass of Ravenclaw inadequacies.

Yes that was mean, and I don’t bloody care. Son of a Death-Eater, remember? At least if I step into the role there will be a reason for people to react the way they do.

The fools.

It’s alright though. Because I found a way to get back at Potter and his star-struck hussy.

I found out about Potter’s special little secret.

….well the one he shares with Weasel, the mudblood and a bunch of other useless people, anyway.

He’s started an unauthorized little group. They meet up every so often and practice Defense Against the Dark Arts in the Room of Requirement. And Potty is their brave and heroic leader. They go around calling themselves “Dumbledore’s Army”.

CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT???

They actually started a Dark Arts defense league and failed to invite ME? How realistic does that seem? Honestly, from all the rumours going around about me, you’d think that they would have the good sense to realize that if anyone could help them get some inside info on the Dark Arts, it would be me.

I don’t appreciate not being invited or even informed of clubs of any sort.

Neither, apparently, did Umbridge.

She’s the one who came to get me and a few other Slytherins. It was fantastically set up. She wanted us to catch them in the act. Oh, I love it.

So we went up and set ourselves in happy little hiding places along the corridor. Then we waited for the inevitable to happen when Potter and his followers would leave the room. They were already scattering and bolting, running in every which direction. Two of them, at least, passed by where I was but I didn’t care. They weren’t the ones I was after. Crabbe or Goyle could go running after them later or something. I had my eyes trained on Potter.

When the moment was right, I brought up my wand and cast a simple tripping spell. He tumbled gracelessly down over his own feet and skidded across the floor to a halt. I just stood over him after having called to Umbridge.

I stared at him with a very dark smile for a few moments. His eyes met mine and glared right into me, past my face and into my soul. It burned just from the glare but I didn’t care. He was going to go running around with a bunch of useless fools and proclaiming my personal family business to the world then he will HAVE to deal with the consequences.

I think time stopped for a minute though, because no matter how much I tried to stop myself from feeling it, there was this overwhelming compulsion to lean over and kiss him, pushing him to the ground and pinning him under me.

Then time started again, I shook the idea out of my head and Potter was being lead up to the Headmaster’s office.

I was left there, standing alone with only my thoughts and frustrations to accompany me back down into the dungeons.

*****

Honestly, this woman CANNOT get any more stupid. It’s impossible. There is no way in Hell that she could do more foolish things that what she has. If there were, well she would have done them already.

She made me a member of the Inquisitorial Squad today.

It’s a special little group of “upstanding and trustworthy students” that are awarded the power to, among other things, GIVE and TAKE HOUSE POINTS.

FOR ANY REASON WE DEEM NECESSARY.

She honestly does NOT know how much of a mistake that was.

First thing I did was award Slytherin house a hundred points just for being green.

Honestly, and then the points just toppled down into the meter. I laughed so bloody hard, I think I may have cracked a rib or something.

Then I got the rest of the ‘squad’ together and went out into the school to find Potter.

Ohhh it was beautiful.

He was standing there with his friends, just asking to have points taken from them.

SO I DID.

I can’t even write properly, I’m still laughing at the idiocy of the whole thing. I took so many points from them for no reason whatsoever. NO REASON. Well, no I did give them reasons, but they weren’t valid ones.

For example, I told the mudblood that I took ten points from Gryffindor just because she was a mudlood.

I took five points from Potter just because I said I don’t like him. I don’t like him so I get to take points from him!

The best part of that is that it was a LIE. I can LIE and still take points.

This is what school should have been like for me from the beginning. Ahh, why didn’t the Ministry try to interfere at Hogwarts earlier? I could have gotten SO much more done!

I just need to cherish this moment of bliss. I know it won’t last long but I love it nonetheless.

Oh the look Potter’s face when I took points from him…. So tragically beautiful.

*******

Strange thing happened today. Montague reappeared in a toilet.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that he disappeared, didn’t I?

Well it wasn’t all that important, it’s not like he’s at all of any meaning to me. But he did indeed disappear.

And then we found him stuck in a toilet. Stuck. In. A. Toilet.

Ugh, just the thought of it disgusts me.

Anyway, I ran to get Snape immediately. I may not care much for the guy, but that doesn’t mean I think he deserves to be stuck in a toilet. No one deserves that.

Well… maybe that Ravenclaw cow that Potter was with. Though, again, they aren’t together. Turns out Potter couldn’t deal with her defending her stupid and untrustworthy friends.

Pity, they worked SO WELL together.

Hahahahahahaha, I can’t even hold in my glee.

Ah, I’ve lost my train of thought….

Montague. Yes.

So I barged into Snape’s office, much like I usually do when I need his help, only to find myself intruding on a conversation with Potter. I stopped dead, gave them both confused looks and muttered a quick apology to Snape.

Then he told me something fantastic, but altogether a little strange.

He said that he was just giving Potter remedial potions lessons.

REMEDIAL POTIONS.

Not even LONGBOTTOM is that bad!

I know I let down my guard and my surprise and amusement showed immediately on my face. I told Snape of the problem and he whisked out the door with me, while I got to mouth one last “Remedial Potions???” comment to him before running off after Snape.

But here’s the thing that bothers me about that… First off, I don’t think that Snape would care much if Potter was risking a failure in his class. In fact, I honestly think that he would be overjoyed to flunk the famous Harry Potter.


Then, if per se, Dumbledore forced him to give Potter a chance, why would Snape waste his own personal time with Potter when he could just as easily assign him a tutor.

I could tutor Potter better than anyone in Potions and I know that Snape would not hesitate to force little Scarhead into an uncomfortable situation…

So then… why is Snape doing it?

I still don’t get it… there is something here that I’m missing. Something important.

Naturally, I told everyone in Slytherin that Potter needed remedial potions anyway, just for good measure, but I still don’t quite believe it.

There is something going on that I’m not aware of.

I suppose that I could have tried using Legilimency on Potter just then to find out the truth, but I’m still not sure of my own control of Occlumency to do it.

Hmm… I should get back to studying that.

*****

Invisible Ink

I’ve had another dream. Not like the last one, no not at all. This was like the other ones… the “abnormal normal” ones, according to the damn Muggle book… anyway.

I was in the dungeons with Potter. There was a cauldron and ingredients strewn out in front of us and I was trying to get him to understand the concept of the Heart-Healing potion (it supposedly counter-acts a love potion and can rid you of the symptoms of heartache…. Because that’s serious wizardry right there).

Anyway, he got all flustered and frustrated with himself because it was not going well. He threw the book aside and sunk down to the floor, gritting his teeth. I rolled my eyes and walked over to him.

“You’ll get nowhere like that,” I told him. He looked up at me with angry eyes. I shook my head at him.

“I’m not getting anywhere, anyway,” he snapped, looking away again. I snickered to myself and stood up taller.

“There are only two ways that you can possibly do well in Potions now,” I said, smirking. He looked up at me again with wide green eyes. I felt myself gasp as I stared at him. “Either you practice non-stop and work yourself to the bone…”

“Or?” he suggested, looking mildly hopeful. I smiled more fully.

“Or find a way to bribe your tutor,” I finished smugly.

His lips parted just a bit before he was on his feet and pushed me into a seat. I grabbed the collar of his robes and pulled him to me, kissing him deeply and sucking on his lower lip. He tasted so good… just like he did in the corridor that night…

He leaned further into the kiss and ran his hands flat up against my chest, caressing the curves of my torso. I tried to pull him into my lap, to feel him against me, his legs on either side of mine, but he pulled back with a smile and got to his knees.

He leaned into me and kissed my chest through the fabric of my shirt as his fingers found their way to each button to unfasten them. As pulled my shirt open, he angled his head upwards and traced a line down my front with little kisses and laps at my skin. When he had finally exposed my chest fully, he leaned in a pulled the bud of my nipple into his mouth… and sucked on it gently.

Ahh… I’m, er…. having some trouble writing this…

Er, then he did the same to the other one. I don’t know how I was so level-headed in my dream but I was.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” I whispered to him with a smirk, even though I was already burning from the little that he’d done. He just laughed softly and I felt his warm breath ghosting over my skin. I took a deep breath and watched as he lowered his head.

He somehow managed to undo my trousers and pull them away from my hips, exposing me completely to him. I shivered as I watched his head lower further and felt the softness of his lips around the tip….

Oh god…

Alright, I just need to say it and get it over with…

I arched my back, as though it would encourage him, and he flicked his tongue out to tease the head and then down along the whole of it… my, er…erection. There, I said it…

It felt good.

His tongue was so warm and wet and then he lifted his head again, opening his mouth as he looked at me. His eyes were dark and full of lust and mischief. I remember thinking that I want to look into those eyes for the rest of my life, but then he turned back down and… and wrapped his mouth around the whole thing… he pulled me into his mouth and ran his tongue flat against the shaft, slowly at first and then more quickly.

He bobbed his head slightly as he sucked and I felt my hands move down to his head, running my fingers through that messy mop of black hair to encourage his movements.

I moaned…. I did. I know I did, I just hope I didn’t do it loud enough for anyone to hear and wake up. I just couldn’t help it. He felt so good around me. His hands were around my waist and on my thighs, massaging slowly and I found that I felt like I could no longer live without his contact.

He moaned into his ministrations and moved more and more quickly. I bucked my hips into him and he sucked harder and pulled me in deeper. I let my head lean back and shut my eyes, feeling myself nearing the end…

And then I did… I let it all go in his mouth and he just… swallowed it. ALL of it.

When he was done, he pulled away and looked up at me again, with those dark and consuming eyes. He wiped his mouth and smirked at me. I pulled him back up to me and kissed him hard, pressing his body to mine.

Then I woke up… and well, needless to say I was in desperate need of a shower.

WHY do I keep doing this to myself?

It’s never going to happen. It’s never going to happen, not for me. And I shouldn’t even want it to happen.

I shouldn’t.

But I do… so badly, I do.

********

I’ve been going to Quidditch games still. I don’t talk about them anymore because they aren’t any fun without Potter… none at all. There is no thrill in the game when I’m playing someone as useless as Chang or the Hufflepuff seeker… I don’t even know the name…

And then there are the games I get to watch. But those are even worse. I had to watch the Gryffindors play. Weasel was still Keeper and they found some new beaters but the worst, by far, is who they chose as their new Seeker.

They picked the SHE-WEASEL.

She’s the one who stole Potter’s spot on the team! I find NO JOY and NO INTEREST whatsoever in watching her do what Potter should be doing. He has talent and grace on a broom…. She’s just better than average at catching a Snitch.

That and Weasel suddenly got his nerve back and transformed into a good Keeper. Pity… they stole my wonderful song and mottled the lyrics so that it suited the Gryffindors better.

Last time I do something nice for them.

Or…something.

I DON’T CARE IF I’M NOT MAKING SENSE.

Argh, I’m sick of writing. I’m going to bed.

*******

OWLs are coming up very soon and all the fifth years are feeling it. So many of them are constantly running around with piles of books or their nose to their notes, hoping that the answers to the examination will just jump out at them and plant themselves in their brains. Honestly, if you didn’t know it to begin with, you never really will.

But I’ve been having my fun telling people stupid things about the OWLs just to freak them out. I’ve said things like the only way to get good OWLs is to have connections. I would say “Oh Father and so-and-so are very good friends so I have nothing to worry about” and other rubbish like that.

I know that’s not true but it’s always amusing to cause anxiety attacks in the weak ones. Those are definitely the most entertaining. Pity I couldn’t convince the mudblood of something like that. I bet she would make for the MOST entertaining breakdown.

Potter doesn’t seem too worried though. Or maybe he’s just gotten much better at hiding the way he feels…

I’d almost forgotten who I was talking about there. Potter couldn’t hide his feelings if he were alone in the dark.

*******

Ordinary Wizarding Levels

Alright, I wasn’t worried at all about the exams, nor am I regretting that lack of worry now. HOWEVER, I will say this: those exams are damn exhausting! They seep EVERY shred of energy from you and leave you depleted and mindless, trying to prepare for the next one.

I do kind of enjoy the practical examinations mind you. They are better tests of skill I think.

I was doing my Charms exam when Potter was called in. I made the foolish mistake of looking up and I caught his eye for a moment. Because of my lack of attention I broke the damn wine glass I was charming and got points deducted.

Stupid git. He shouldn’t distract me like that!

Later, during the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exams, Potter’s examiner got all excited about him and asked if it was true that he could produce a corporeal patronus. Then, of course, Potter batted his eyelashes, gave him a winning smile and cast, almost EFFORTLESSLY, a perfectly silver white stag that pranced around the room for everyone to clap and rejoice before disappearing again.

That’s not fair! NOT in the SLIGHTEST.

Potter only knows how to cast a patronus like that because he had such a terrible problem with the Dementors. If he hadn’t been so bloody weak to begin with he wouldn’t need the help of supremely difficult spells!

I’m not jealous.

I’m not. I’m not thinking about how he must have taught his little group of followers how to cast a patronus like that in his “Dumbledore’s Army” meetings… I’m not disappointed that I never got to benefit from his advice.

I don’t give a bloody damn.

I don’t…

-----IIIII------

A/N: ZOMG Draco described a blowjob hahahaha XD Ah wells, ah wells, he’ll be getting his soon enough. Not much to say about this one except that the fifth book is almost over now, but angstiness lies ahead for our beloved blonde Slytherin. Poor, poor Draco.

Never forget, Reviews keep me alive!! *love*