A Memory

A magical cloth suddenly snowed over the feast, making it seem to disappear. You knew it was still there. You could smell the sweet aroma of the roasted turkey, the baked apples, and the steamy goodness of mutton stew under the obsidian fabric. Nearly all the students were looking around in confusion. Was this Dumbledore’s idea of a joke? Then, I watched Lupin’s ears twitch, and his head turned toward the door. I started turning my head that way when I saw James and Sirius doing the same. Remus Lupin was already watching the oak doors when they started to open. They slowly receded outward, and nearly everyone’s attention was on the heavy double doors. Finally, the doors opened all the way, and everyone stared at what was coming through. It was Professor McGonagall, and she was caring a three-legged stool along with the Sorting Hat. Why was she bringing the Sorting Hat back out? I continued to watch the doorway, waiting for the answer, and it came. It was a boy.

He looked about 17 or 18; he had a thin onyx curtain of hair flowing over his face. It was cut about half-way down his ears, his bangs arched, some of the smaller strands falling into his eyes. His lilac eyes. The lavender purple slowly faded to a faint blue toward the centre. He stood not in the black robes of Hogwarts, but in robes of a metallic silver. The teenager started to walk forward, all eyes following him, when Dumbledore gave a loud cough to draw our attention.

“Students, this is Mr. Damion Flieder. He has transferred here from The Academy of Phantastische Hexen in Germany. He will be sorted and join the classes with the sixth years. Now, the hat will place him in the house suited for him, and then the cover will be removed, and the feast will begin once more.” Everyone turned to watch as the Sorting Hat was placed upon Damion’s head. I watched, wondering if he was perhaps a no-good mudblood. The hat stayed silent for a few more seconds when it finally shouted, “SLYTHERIN!” I joined the rest of the applause as the foreign student walked over, looking for a place to sit down. I felt Dominic budge over so that an empty seat lay between us, and I hear Lupin growl as we watched the new Slytherin slide toward us,

“Desir, no. I’ll not have another worthless being using our abilities for their benefits. I won’t have it. Malfoy’s bad enough, but he can at least ‘pay’ his respects.” He took a breath, and he opened his mouth to start again, but Damion has already sat next to us. A tint of yellow flame flicked in Romulus’s eyes, and I heard Dom give his warning cough. I watched as the black fabric was lifted from the table, the delicacies still steaming as if it had just come from the oven. Reaching for a slice of kidney pie, I leaned down and whispered in Damion’s ear,

“See the guy next to Dominic, two from your right? A word of advice: don’t piss him off, and let me tell you, he gets ticked pretty easily.”

“Maybe you should take your own advice, Lucius,” Dominic answered.

“I don’t recall asking you to join our conversation, Desir.”

“And when have I ever listened to you?”

“When have you listened to anybody?” Then he smiled, its warm glow reaching my heart (and penis). It was soft and caring, but it was also sexual and intimate. Don’t ask me how he managed to do that, but he did. I looked over to Flieder, wondering if he was thinking the same thing, wondering if it was vibes or just me, just my body that lusted after his. I pushed it aside and turned my attention to the new student.

“So how long do you think you’ll be here?” He looked at me, his bi-coloured eyes shining in the enchanted starlight, and I felt another emotion float through me, another thought. He is beautiful. He didn’t make me go hard the way Dominic did, but I realised I would rather be with the German than the incubus. Why am I even thinking that? I don’t even like men.

If you say so, but your body would have to disagree. You’re stuck between two sexy, succulent bodies you can’t have, and it’s driving you nuts.

It’s not my fault. Dominic’s an incubus; I’m bound to be attracted to him.

Damion’s not an incubus, and you want him.

Not NAKED!

You sure?

I . . . uh . . . “Lucius!” I heard Lupin’s voice over my thoughts, breaking the conversation. “You ask someone a question, and you don’t even listen to the answer. You’re pathetic!” I turned my head toward him, blushing slightly, if he had known what I was thinking . . . I stuttered a sorry, and I watched Rhomus shake his head in annoyment. I flipped through my mind, trying to recall what I asked. I looked at Damion, and he answered my question for the second time.

“I vill be here for the entire year, and if I enjoy it, I may be able to return the next.” I looked back into his eyes, and I thought I would never be able to look away. However, I knew it would look odd if I stared at him all day. My head turned, my hand reaching for the soup ladle when a pale hand brushed on top of mine. My eyes followed my arm attached to it, and I once again saw the lavender eyes. I quickly removed my hand, trying not to blush, and failing. I heard Dom give a chuckle, and goose pimples rode on my flesh at the sound of it. My nipples became hard under its touch, and I could barley breathe through the sexual aurora in the air. Dominic was releasing his power. Heads turned throughout the Great Hall, all at different times. Some kept averting their eyes, trying to hide the fact that they had been staring at the Slytherin. Girls struck out in fits of giggles, and I could guarantee that many of the guys’ dicks were perking under their robes, wanting to be released. I’m sure many of the minds didn’t agree with the bodies, but they didn’t have a choice. Incubi powers were maybe at full max. They were at least high on the scales.

I looked over to Dom, about to ask him what he was doing, when it hit me even harder. I watched his chest rise and descend, and I had a sudden longing to run my hands over the bare skin that lay underneath, to pinch and play with the rich pinkness of the nipple. My silver orbs raised upward toward his lips, and I needed to prove to myself that they were as soft as they looked. I wanted to prove they were a velvet, waiting to shined and smoothed by another. I could hear and smell the blood rushing in his jugular vein, and I wondered what the blood would taste like in my mouth. I wondered if it would taste as sweet as his bronzed neck. My tongue longed to lick down his jaw line, across his chest, over his stomach, and on until it reached Desir’s manhood. Part of me wished he would take me to his bed and enter me. I wanted to press my erection against his, to feel him hard and ready underneath me. I longed for him to dominate me. Bondage. That’s all I wanted. I wanted to be dominated. When did I become a submissive freak? I didn’t care. I just wanted to be in bed with him. Every part of my body wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against that own piece, to be part of it. Every little part of me. I believe, the only thing keeping me from doing all that was the fact that my mind was still in slight reality. It knew everyone would see if I kissed Dominic there, and I did not want to be known as a faggot-boy. In fact, that was the only reason I wasn’t jumping him.

I knew I need to look away from him, but where was I to conjure up that much will power? I felt a hand fall on my shoulder, and it started to shake me. Somehow, it created a break in the chain. It was still there, and holding strong, but I was able to weave out of the links. My head turned to see who was behind me when I saw the lilac eyes watching me. My mind had somehow freed itself from the spell. I still lusted after the demon, but those eyes somehow calmed me, I guess you could say. The rest of me turned, his hand falling away, so I could keep eye contact with him while I spoke. Do I really want to do that? Hell, it beat looking at Dominic, feeling like my self-control would burst at any moment, like a dam holding a raging river. My head was swimming with lust and desire yet I continued to stare at those purple eyes. I opened my mouth to continue the conversation, hoping my emotions would flow back to normal.

“So how in depth are you in the Dark Arts?”

“Who says I’m into the Dark Arts?”

“Oh, come one, every Slytherin becomes embodied in them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like we’re going to tell anyone. Just tell us, where did you learn them from? Did you learn any from friends? Did you learn it from your mother, your father, or both? Or did you perhaps learn the forsaken magic from a book?” Everyone’s eyes were eager to see how much Dark Magic Damion knew, how much pain he could inflict on an innocent bystander. He opened his mouth, still trying to if he could trust us, when I realised the desires had died down. I sighed relief inside my mind as Damion started.

“I was taught by my father mostly, but I learned a little from Phantastische Hexen.” My mouth dropped.

“They actually taught you Dark Arts? Not just defensive stuff?”

“Ja.”

“And you chose to come here, out of your own free will?”

“Yes, and I think I’ll be very happy to be here. I don’t know how I know this, considering I just met you guys, but I think it’ll be a very pleasing experience.” And I stared into those stunning orchard orbs, and I believe the same thing. I believed it would be very . . . pleasing.