2002-12-01 20:32:00,
I need to talk to someone.....,"

An IC RP with Snape and Jack.

Jack was sitting in his new room, his new home thinking. We was trying to remember things. Albus had asked him to tell him of the most recent thing he could recall, and the oldest thing he could recall. He could find neither with any substance. Every flash of memory he WAS able to mine was connected to The Sour Man, The Bringer of Pain, Severus Snape. Not all of them were painful, but most were ... confusing and odd. He hadn't heard the Voice of Severus, or whomever that was in his head, and he hadn't mentioned The Voice to anyone. He wanted to. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not to be hearing voices no one else seemed to hear.

He would sit and listen, waiting for The Voice, and he had tried even a few times to coax it back. Nothing would come. It seemed he was being ignored now. He had been bad, again. Then along with trying to recall the memories for The Old Man, Albus was his name, Headmaster, there were the dreams he was having. Of dark rooms, firelight, being naked and being with another, being held, caressed and ... taken. He would wake up from those sweaty and wanting the REAL THING even if it was with Him. He was quite sure it was all connected, but making the connections was quite hard indeed.

And what was the thing around his neck that moved, and hissed in his ear, and spoke to him with soft squeezes and nudges of a metal snout? He was sure that was part of it too, but what, and how?

He sat there for a moment, just thinking, and wondering, not realizing he was transmitting his ruminations.

It started off like an annoying buzz, almost, a not-quite identifiable distraction and nuisance. Snape was sitting, working (he'd been feeling guilty for not putting in his full effort and so the students were getting reams of comments tonight) and had the urge to swat whatever it was and get rid of it.

After shaking his head distractedly, and pushing his hair back from his face, he realised it wasn't going away- and if anything, it was getting worse. Annoyed his work and concentration was disturbed, he put up a mental 'go away' sign when he realised who it was, and ground the quill into the inkwell.

That didn't work either. The voice in his head grew plaintive, still insistent, but meekly so. Tugging at his metaphorical robe hem and demanding attention. Snape was very tempted to shove down the biggest mental barrier he could find- or get a pillow and smother that whining little voice altogether.

What do you want? he asked, in a tone that suggested he didn't really want to know the answer, so would you please hurry up the conversation to the end, thank you very much?

The reply took a moment, as though the other communicant was thinking long and hard. Snape could almost feel the cogs moving.

I... want to talk...

Talk is not really the word, but I think the concept made itself apparent in that you have mithered me incessantly for the last fifteen or so minutes of my life.

Silence.

Does that mean we can talk?

Head, meet desk.

A few minutes later and the diatribe settled down. And the dust. Snape spat out the strands of hair that had found their way to his mouth. His nose crinkled up at the aftertaste. When he sensed he'd confused Jack, Snape explained as one would to a toddler.

If it means you will shut up and get out of my head, then yes, we will talk. Understand?

A mental nod, felt rather than said.

Snape waited. Eventually when nothing was forthcoming he decided he needed a cup of tea to deal with this, and rang for one. When he was settled, and taking the first sip, he felt a querrulous sound.

You are the one that wanted to 'talk', he reminded. He was not about to make things any easier, or make the first step. He enjoyed seeing people squirm.

I've been... squirming, ...seeing things. In my dreams, I mean.

I would be more worried had you not.

Oh. They don't scare me.

There was a slight tremor to that, but Snape could almost see the defiant lift of chin. So there was life in the old dog yet? How long til it was kicked out, as it was with everyone else? There were only so many times you could get back up.

They don't? Had anyone else said, or thought, that, Snape would immediately have ridiculed them for parrot-like mimicry, but it was fine for him to say- think- that, because he was doing it for a reason. Part of it was called avoiding the problem. He wondered what kind of dreams, exactly.

The question must have been transmitted, or guessed at, Snape didn't know which. There was a short mental explanation- quick and concise and informative, as if the other person was trying to communicate something they'd rather not as efficiently and effectively as possible.

After a few seconds Snape unconsciously crossed his legs, and looked down at his desk, the slightest hint of blood visible in his cheeks, which was a partial godsend as it stopped it all from pooling elsewhere. Only slightly good though.

They should... he mused, before starting again, with more authority and firmness as he directed his mind down a safer avenue. Dreams are merely the brain processing information during REM, that is, Rapid Eye Movement sleep. This is a normal procedure believed by some to be theraputic and has strong links with memory organisation. If you follow some Muggle schools it tells you about your subconscious, or if you listen to the Divinators, it will predict your future. Personally I do not subscribe to the majority. As you were saying?

Force the enemy into surrender by sheer volume of evidence had often been Snape's method. If you said enough difficult things people often forgot what was being 'discussed' originally and some didn't understand they'd been insulted, thought they had, but would not risk looking an idiot if they took offence over something that wasn't in and of itself offensive.

Of course, some people just tried to rearrange his nose and hex him, but he knew how to deal with that too.

Jack couldn't physically assault Snape right now but he didn't think he would attempt that even if he was here in person right now. Regardless of how difficult Snape was being. There was a touch of frustration, but the voice was struggling to sound as unpathetic as it could right now, calm, weighed, and considered. It was having a little difficulty.

I just want to know more. And... not about what dreams are. I know that I think.

Snape raised a brow, and took another sip of his tea. He rarely finished a full cup. What would you like me to tell you? Then he could utter a placation or whatever was needed. You don't half circumlocute. And that means speaking around the issue, he added before that drew it out any further.

It seemed to Jack that Snape was the one going round in circles. If he wanted this sorting out he was going to have to be blunt and precise and literal.

I'm lonely. And I'm confused. And I'm curious. And I just want to be well again. I want to... I want to not be afraid and I want to understand things. Please...

You don't ask much do you? was the immediate thought. Some people dedicate their lives to those goals, or even one, and never succeed. What makes you think you can?

Glove thrown down, and challenge too.

I have to try?

A question. And what a simple one. And what a response could be given. Snape was mentally shaking his head. You tell me, I have trouble enough with myself. Sorting other people's lives so you didn't have to look at your own was only delaying the inevitable.

While Jack was thinking about that, Snape butted in his reflections; If you don't mind, I have several seventh years who need to know the corrections I will give them to have any chance of not failing. Which is slim to none at best. A dismissal. Snape picked up his quill and left his cold tea forgotten, and would not reply in anything more than mental grunts for the rest of the night."

2002-12-02 21:36:00,
Bored.

Bored I what I am. Jack Grim is bored. Yes I am. I have been sitting in my room most of the day alone, and it is boring.

Albus comes to have meals with me. No one else comes to see me. I wonder why? Are they hiding me from everyone? I think that is the case.

I know I am not right. I want to be right again. Severus said I had to WANT that and I had to DO something about it. I suppose that means I have to remember something. Everything.

Right now all I can remember is pain. Pain from Severus Snape and pain from the Other Man in Black. Severus saved me from him, I think. I wonder if I should ask him about that.

He will probably get mad at me again."

2002-12-03 10:41:00,
Mail for the Prisoner.... / House Elf Note to Blaise,

Jack,

Hey there hun, how are you feeling? Dumbledore said you had fallen ill, he won't let me visit you. What happened? You disappeared again, please don't tell me you had yet another run in with Voldemort. I swear you spend more time in the hospital wing than Neville Longbottom who blows up things in Snapes class. I do hope you get better soon, it would be nice to see you around again. Don't have too much fun, if you need anything let me know I will see if I can find away to smuggle it into you.

Truly.

Blaise

Jack looked at the note for a long time, reading it over and over. He tried to put a face to the name, Blaise. When he read the part about Voldemort, he flashed on something. Something clicked, something came back to him. So he wrote it down in his journal.

I was in a room, a dark room. Severus Snape was there, and we were fighting against Voldemort, and his, others. We cursed them and hexed them and then I was struck down by one of them and ... I was being hurt by him. He hurt me over and over until... Severus Snape saved me... He SAVED me.

Jack looked down at what he had just written, then set the quill back dow as he thought it through over and over until he felt dizzy. He rest his face in his hands and rested for a moment before making a reply to this Blaise person.

Hello Blaise,

It was so nice of you to write to me. I am in a room by myself now. They took me out of the Hospital Wing. I am hungry right now, and lonely. I don't like being alone. I wish someone would come to see me for a little while. Maybe soon they will let you.

I hope to see you again soon,

Jack Grim

Jack looked at the note a long time before folding it up and handing it to the house elf who had remained to straighten up the room, and make up his bed for him. He watched the Elf dissappear with a sound like the crack of a whip, and he was alone again."

2002-12-03 14:32:00,
I just want someone I can talk to

An IC Chat with Jack and Snape.

After Jack had sent the note off to Blaise, and spent a lot of time pondering on the memory, and trying to recall more of it, he decided to tell someone. Hello? Are you there? he asked softly, like a soft rap on a closed door to the Master's Study.

Snape was teaching. That was what you did, if you were a teacher. Apparently. He had a room full of sixth years currently engaged in cleaning up- something that was marginally less dangerous than brewing this particular philtre, and he was watching them like a hawk, and scaring as many as he could. He almost jumped when he was addressed- the thought of being called to whilst in class one he hadn't much pondered of late, though it made sense. Somehow. "Gloves, Salvi, gloves," he said to a gushing Hufflepuff, as he thought a moment. Eventually he replied as though weary, Yes? No doubt this is important, hm?

There came a mental nod, an eager one. I would think so, I remembered something... We were fighting, you and I were fighting against Voldemort, and his followers, and then I was being hurt by one. He paused as if to try to focus the thought, and file it as a memory and not the hear and now. Then, you saved me from them... he added. I remembered when I read a note sent to me by someone named Blaise. he explained, then waited for a reply.

Blaise? Who on--- oh. That fifth year. And a possible substance abuser, if Snape remembered correctly. Having got stuck on her, he started to process the rest of the information slowly. Waved a hand to the cupboard when someone came up asking for wire wool before they managed to open their mouth. Him? Snape's tone was not complimentary. He deserves everything he got, and then some. A brief surge of sadistic pride swept through him at the thought of the strung-up Death Eaters. He dragged his thoughts back again.Yes, you seem to have a penchant for finding trouble. If I didn't know better... Snape would say he'd been taking lessosn from That Potter Brat.

Jack was confused, I have a knack for finding trouble? Is that why we were there fighting Voldemort? he asked, then his mind wandered to other things for a moment. Hunger, it was always there it seemed, and about another dream he had had with Severus Snape in it. Sexual again, and he found them more curious than disturbing. He then inquired on that subject calmly as if he were asking the time. Did we ever have sex together? I keep dreaming that....

Snape snorted and the students closest immediately wondered what they were doing wrong. They exchanged glances, but couldn't work out what they had done wrong now. Yes. Trouble magnet... Snape started musing before a rather blunt question out of the blue. And in front of everyone. He started turning a rather interesting shade, which fortunately passed rather well as his usual angry hue. What kind of question is that? he asked, thankful that mentally his voice didn't hitch up a few octaves. Just the odd note. He stared accusingly at a cauldron.

I was just wondering if the dreams were... wishes, or memories. he replied as calm as you can be. But then, if we were, or ARE having sex... Why would you hurt me? Unless that was before... Unless that happened before the sex, or I was being punished... Maybe that was it... he continued to ramble on until he was stopped or a suitable answer came. He seemed quite engrossed by the connection between the two.

Normally Snape would be overjoyed if anybody showed the slightest inkling that they tried to really THINK about things, truly, and figure them out. What was life if you just went ahead and lived it without stopping to appreciate or comprehend it? But having thought processes mapped out- on subjects like this- was not his idea of fun. Or was. And wasn't. Thankfully Jack seemed detatched at his end or Snape would have had to shut his brain down completely. Maybe... maybe you need to consider other things too? Snape asked, taking refuge in the hypothetical. You assume that pain is only doled out to those who need punishing or to people not in good favour. If the situation makes no sense sometimes you have to question the foundations you have to begin with... Which was cutting too close to the bone by far.

Jack pondered that for a moment, thinking, Maybe I WANTED the pain.... Seems like an odd thing to want doesn't it? he asked, then went onto another tangent. Well, I wrote down in my journal about remembering the fight with Voldemort. But nothing else. I get the feeling that the sex stuff is just between us... he surmised briefly, then went onto another topic. I am doing my best to recall things... Reading the note from Blaise helped, I wonder if I should read more...

All of which was totally... oh nevermind. He supposed he should be grateful that Jack seemed easily distracted by other subjects. But he didn't think he quite managed to bite down a You're writing all this in a journal?! Which was, if he thought about it, rather hypocritical a complaint. But still. He felt his thoughts were pretty safe where they were penned. "Does that look like a size two beaker?!" he managed to snap, before thinking, Yes. Reading is... good... Could the day get any more confusing?

Yes, came the sighed reply, Albus Dumbledore gave me a journal to write down what I remembered. So far, I just have remembered the fight we had. Do you want me to not write EVERYTHING down I remember? he asked carefully. I don't want to make you angry with me again... came the solemn comment. I just want to get out of here, I am so lonely. he added, then came the equivilant of a mental howl of anguish. Solitude was not an effective treatment it seemed.

Convicted by dreams Jack wasn't even totally sure were true? And would Albus really stoop that low? If he would, then not writing them down wouldn't serve much use because he'd not have any qualms about other- less... thoughtful methods? Do what he told you, and he will probably let you out sooner, Snape reasoned, not liking the onset of cabin fever he could sense one bit. Hasn't he even let you out?

A sulky sigh came over next, No, I haven't been out of here since I was brought back by you Sirs. He paused, then continued as he looked around the room, sending mental images to Snape, I have a bed, a desk, a place to bath, a lav and a small small window I can't climb out of... It's nice... but I want to be outside. he lamented, then got up from the desk and flopped down on his bed on his belly, resting his forehead on his folded arms. I want out.... I want out.... he thought over and over.

I heard you adequately the first time, Snape growled, and stood up as the bell went, waited until everyone was looking at- or past him. Paused. "You may go." he glared at them as they left. Outside doesn't really live up to the glowing report it receives, Snape thought in an effort to get rid of the self pity a moment. He could think of worse places to be locked up in. Definately. He shuddered despite himself. I'll have the House Elves bring you something to read, he said, already thinking ahead.

Thank you... he replied, sounding only slightly more pleased than before. You could come see me and talk to me if you like. I dont think I would mind that... he added, then sighed again and closed his eyes. He was hungry, and bored, he might as well sleep.

With the incessant whining stopped- what he supposed was the human equivalent of a parrot plucking its feathers- Snape relaxed a little more. Honestly. What did the world have about shoving everyone elses' problems on him? Room clear he went to the office and picked up the first book he thought Jack hadn't read, and summoned a House Elf. I suppose you'll be wanting grapes next, he said. Then the elf came, and decided that Sibby didn't think Sibby could take the book to Master Grim, only Headmaster had said not to, no matter how much Sibby WANTED to do what Professor Snape asked...

Grapes? came the perked up voice. Yes, please! I would love some grapes! I am so hungry, I would like just about anything to eat right now. Some bread, some juice, some cookies would be wonderful! Can I have those too? he asked as dreams of a confectionary wonderland floated through this thoughts like a parade.

Snape's eyes widened. It just... no. It defied belief. He had to be joking, right? Snape threatened the House Elf aloud, bargaining with his position as head of Jack's house, and finally made it agree to give the book over if Snape went to see Albus immediately and told him what he had made the elf do, which fitted in with the Potions Master's plans fairly well anyway. He also told Sibby that anything going spare in the kitchen should be sent up- and knowing house elves, that would be rather a lot. He did mumble grapes along the way, if only to get some more peace. Is there anything else Sirrah would like? He had, after all, mastered sarcasm.

Sirrah? Is that my name? I thought it was Jack Grim... Hmm.... No, some grapes and snacks would be fine. The meals are well enough here, but they don't come as often as I would like.... he mused then rolled over onto his back and looked up at the stone ceiling of his chamber, studying the patterns of the rock overhead. Thank you Severus... he said with a contented little sigh a moment later, then he went quiet again.

Some animals will eat themselves to death given half the opportunity... And no, your name is not Sirrah, I was being facetious... Yes, something he'd been called a lot over the years. Hopefully that will keep you quiet a while... With the House Elf scurrying off, Snape finished what he was doing before heading off to see Albus."

2002-12-03 23:01:00

Food.,"I like food. I like food a lot, and I like having lots of food. Severus sent the elves with some after I talked to him last, and I ate most of it up.

This made the house elves happy, and it made me happy too. I told them I would be very unhappy and cry a lot and tear my hair out if I got hungry again. They bring food to me all the time now. I am a wicked boy.

I wonder if I will dream about Severus Snape again tonight. He sent me a book to read. It's all about potions. Does it help me remember things? Indeed it does. Well, more snacks have arrived, then some more reading then to bed I suppose."

2002-12-04 09:51:00,

A busy morning..,"Well, perhaps I shall not be so lonely after all. More notes are arriving to me from the House Elves. Blaise wrote back to me, she misses me a great deal and fears I will die at the hands of Voldemort.

Oh yes. I read her notes over and over and things trickle back to me. Other thoughts are trickling in as well. Thoughts of another person. Not Severus Snape, another person. It is almost like I am, recalling a past life...

I also received another note from another girl, Cho. She also wishes me well, and a quick recovery. People out there DO miss me, and it seems I have friends. Female friends. Are they lovers of mine as well? If they are.... Where does Severus fit into all of this? If I could just TALK to him, alone.

I know this may be dangerous. He may want me dead and he is just biding his time for the opportunity. He could be luring me into a trap. Perhaps that is why Albus keeps me here. Severus did sent that book, I am recalling potions and mixtures of all sorts, not much else. I am a student. I am not sure if I am remembering that or if it is just instinct.

At breakfast Albus left me a book, Hogwarts, a History. This has told me much about where I am apparently. Slowly, slowly it is coming back...

The question is... Will I want to be who I was when I know all there is to recall? It is hard to say... I think I will answer my notes for now, and await lunch, the mid morning snack is now gone."

2002-12-04 11:06:00,
House Elf Post to Cho Chang

Hello Cho,

I wanted to thank you for your kind note telling me I am missed. It is so lonely where I am, it does me good to know I have friends.

My problem is, I have lost most of my memory, and they seem to be keeping me secluded until it fully returns. I am assuming we were good friends for you to sound so concerned for me.

I hope we can meet soon. I would like to remember who you are.

Jack Grim"

2002-12-04 11:09:00,
House Elf Post to Blaise Zabini,

Hello again Blaise!

I must say, you are my good friend as long as you keep sending me sweets. The notes are grand too, but I love to eat.

We used to talk alot? I would love to know what about. I can't recall much. My memory is gone on most things of my past, and they are keeping me here until it returns. I may never get out of here.

Perhaps you can tell me more about myself. What was I like? Was I nice? Did I have a lot of girlfriends? I have another girl writing to me as well.

Well, I am going to do more reading, it seems to help. Thank you again for the sweets.

Jack Grim"

2002-12-05 19:30:00,
Visitors to the Prisoner once again.

An IC RP with Jack Grim and Severus Snape, and Albus Dumbledore.

There were no voices to preceed the two men- all the discussion had taken place already. Save for the slight animation of Snape's features he couldn't quite conceal. Albus was inscrutable as ever. He was walking to the left and ever so slightly behind, pausing as the headmaster knocked on the door. "Jack? It's Professors Dumbledore and Snape. We would like to see you." His voice sounded cheery enough.

Jack looked up from his reading of the books smuggled to him, and a panicked look came over his face. "J-Just a moment please, I am not dressed..." he called out and quickly jumped down from the bed and stashed the books under his mattress, then placed the Hogwarts, a History on the table, open to a random chapter before sitting back down on the edge of his bed, and taking in a deep, calming breath. "I am decent now..." he called out after a beat, and waited.

A pause, and the handle turned slowly. However Albus had locked the door (Severus could not concieve of him leaving it open, even when thinking the worst of the elder wizard) he did not make it clear in the way it was opened. Interesting, but not unexpected. They entered, and stood near the doorway, not intruding too much. Snape shut the dor behind him, and glanced covertly about the room, weighing it up for himself, as Albus was still talking.

"My dear boy, have you been sleeping well?"

Jack's gaze flickered between the two men, giving both a nod of acknowledgemnt before answering Albus. "I have been sleeping well, yes. But I want to leave here." he said quickly. "This room I mean." he clarified, then swallowed nervously, and watched Snape more than the other for his reaction.

Snape had demanded he come here himself and see where Jack was being kept- and had hatched a great many things, planned a good deal more, and run through innumerable conclusions. In none of them was he standing back and doing nothing- most of them he had been railing, or defending something. The initial response to being in the Headmaster's presence- so far from his own jurisdiction, was acquiescance, but he fought it, speaking over the Headmaster who was drawing a breath as though to reply.

"He is right this is hardly a fitting... environment." He managed to sound scornful and disdainful, more than anything else. He stared at the thoughtful Headmaster.

Jack's eyes brightened at Snape's concurance with his pleas, and he gave him the shyest, slightest of smiles before turning to look at the Headmaster again. He looked him in the eyes, and nodded in agreement to Snape's statement. "I am quite lonely Sirs. I don't like being alone." he said, further pleading his case, then went silent. Waiting.

"You said yourself he could not last with his housemates, Severus," the Headmaster chided gently, peering over his glasses. "Whilst this is not the best option, there is no better alternative."

He tutned then to Jack. "My boy, I'm afraid you are not well enough to rejoin your peers, and I felt this place would be better for you than the Hospital Wing. That is not to say you cannot leave here sometimes, however," he added, by means of a placation.

"I want to go out, now. With Professor Snape." he snorted petulantly. He knew both were stern men, but he somehow sensed that an outting with his Head of House would involve more than just a promanade and a bag of sweets. He at least HOPED that would be the case. "I know I can't deal with everyone here, not yet. I do..." he stopped, his mind running faster than he could express himself, and he balled his fists at his sides, "I just want out." he said emphatically again. "I'm not a prisoner."

Snape looked temporarily taken aback, and absolutely refused to meet his Headmaster's eyes. Congratulations. Your subtlety knows no bounds, Snape thought. because that would imply it had at least started. "You would?" Albus refrained to ask where exactly Jack thought the two of them were going to go; Severus was hardly the tour-guide type. "I don't think Professor Snape has the time, Jack, he is a very busy person," he stated, being as diplomatic as he could, and flicking his eyes betweent he two.

"Well, yes I would...." he said, sounding just a bit deflated, and the anger in him stirring. Snape's silent scolding wasn't helping his mood any. Fine then. I will get out of here on my own. he thought bitterly then glared agrily between the two older men. He thought briefly of bum rushing the both of them and making a break for it. Maybe he could hide and find Cho or Blaise... No, that wouldn't work.

Snape mentally snorted. All I was saying was perhaps you might employ a little more tact and... more delicate methods, he thought, and turned his eyes to the Headmaster.

"You shall have to let him out eventually, Headmaster," he said, prompting him. "Though he will need an eye keeping on him."

Albus didn't look altogether convinced. But he was lacking too many open reasons for saying as much. "We couldn't possibly impose on your time, Severus, but you are right." He started stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Jack rolled his eyes in typical juvenile fashion and turned away from the both of them and gazed out of the window. There was nothing more for him to say, it was quite apparent that he would not be allowed to make any decisions concerning his life, and it was making him angry. He could feel the anger building inside of him and he folded his arms across his chest to keep them still. He wanted to pick up the nearest lamp and smash it against a wall. Fine, I shall shut up and be a good boy then. he sulked.

Snape had said all he was in a position to, and now it was just up to Albus. He watched him intently for his judgement, passing only mental comment. Oh do grow up, it was constructive criticism you dolt. he couldn't be doing with pride. Other people's at least.

Albus stared back. Looked at Jack. "You may go out tomorrow dinnertime, should you wish, it is a little too late now. The hows shall be arranged later. Will this be suitable?" he asked, with a raise of brow.

Jack remained staring out the window for a long moment. The urge to be sulky and unresponsive was all consuming, but something deeper down would not allow him to do that. Slowly he turned to look back at the Headmaster, and nodded his head. His face was a neutral expression. "Yes Headmaster." he said with a nod, then looked at Snape and gave him the same nod. Thank you as well, Sir. he replied, then slowly uncrossed his arms, setting his hands down in his lap.

Albus broke into a warm smile. "Wonderful!" A buzzing sound started, making Snape jump, but Albus merely rummaged around in his pockets, muttering, before he pulled out a pocket watch and stared at the face. "Oh dear, the kettle seems to have boiled. I shall go and pour the tea." He found Severus' eyes and held them, boring into them. "Severus, I shall just go and pour two cups. Do be a dear and close the door after me will you?" he asked, and left, calling a goodbye to Jack.

Snape blinked, nodded, and watched him leave a little baffled. That was different. He looked back at Jack.

Jack called "Goodbye" to the departing form of the Headmaster, then looked over at Snape as he stood there looking just at perplexed as he was for the moment. He chewed on his lower lip, a nervous affectation, then spoke softly. "What now?" he asked, letting his gaze move slowly over the Professor, scrutinizing every inch of his visible being as if to commit it to memory, or to recall one.

Now you ask me... "I say something suitably Slytherin, Head of House-like, find out if you've been reading your book, and that they haven't been brainwashing you into a fuzzy, un-Slytherin mindset?" he asked, head tilted to one side slightly. "Unless there's something I haven't shouted at you for yet, in which case that would take prelevance." The slightest of wry smiles. Probably because somehow Albus had managed to make him nervous again. One way or another.

Jack closed his eyes partway and then rested his chin on his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. He stared at Snape for a long time before speaking. "I feel I need to answer to you above all others. Is that correct?" He asked at last after a long pause. His eyes stared unwavering into Snape's black ones.

"I am not the Headmaster. I am the Head of Slytherin House,. Responsible for academic and pastoral care, amongst other things..." he replied, careful, measured, strict tones. Stood, a moment. "Perhaps." He felt like he was being cross-examined, despite him being stood up. And he didn't like that in the slighest, so he pulled himself up taller.

Jack canted his head slightly to the side, and continued to watch the Professor before him. He digested the patronizing sort of reply he gave, then sighed as he thought, And what am I to you.... exactly? he said, levelling a stern gaze toward the man, doing his best to convey, he wanted whatever truth he was unable to recall himself. I want to know it all.

Everything, nothing, does it really matter? The small amulet about Jack's neck stirred slightly, restless, sensing its master's own restlessness. Snape didn't flinch from the question, even if he didn't answer outright. He was going to have to settle him one way or the other, or be forever plagued, he realised. He sent a flash of compact, concise images. Summarised everything as cooly analytically as he could. Stared. That was what happened. That is all. He was highly aware that he would ahve to leave soon or Albus would not be so discreet again. But you are not who you were. I made sure of that. "I must go now," he said, aloud. "I shall ensure you have more books and an adequate escourt." He moved to the door, looked back. "And I do believe Miss Parkinson sent her best."

Jack's eyes widened as he read the images, and then filtered them into his mind. He lingered on them, savoring them, devouring them like a man starved, for so many things, then after a moment, "What do you mean you made sure I am not who I was?" he asked aloud, confused, but it wasn't the first time, and wouldn't be the last surely.

Snape lingered on the doorway, knowing he'd have to walk as fast as possible to not be completely... well, obvious. He blinked. Thought a moment. "Are any of us?" he asked, shrugged, and closed the door behind him. I have a headmaster to see.

Jack watched him go out of the room, heard the click of the door, and he sat here for a long time, thinking before he replied. I will wait for you to decide when it is right for us to.... resume. he said, then rolling onto his stomach he retrieved the book from under his mattress, and began reading again."

2002-12-05 22:01:00,
There's hope yet/ NOTES TO CHO, and BLAISE.

Well, tomorrow I actually get to leave my cel, and have dinner with one of my housemates. They won't tell me WHO yet, but at least I am getting out for a while.

More notes, one from Cho Chang, who sounds so nice, and soothing, and one from Blaise, who... I am not sure. Subversive is the impression I get from her. She is a Slytherin, from my house and she implies there was some closeness between us, but I will be damned if I can recall anything. I suppose this means it was a short forgetable affair, or she meant nothing to me. I don't know.

Severus Snape. I still have those dreams about him. Foggy, and hazy, no real details but I know what is happening, what is being done to me. I ache for it to be real. Why is THAT all I can recall of my past save for book learning. I am a real mental case.

I suppose I shall answer my mail then get to bed, tomorrow is the big excursion after all.

Hello again Cho,

Your notes are so kind, and soothing to me in a special way. I can tell we were good friends and must have shared quite a bit. I sense a calmness about you, and I think that must have been a good influence on me both then, and now. They are letting me out for little excursions it seems, the first very soon.

Would you be willing to see me if the Headmaster will allow it? Do not feel presured to do so if you do not want to. I hope all is well with you, I think Iam geting better, I am recalling my lessons, as I read, but not my personal past.

I wonder if it was that bad, and perhaps I am repressing it all. IN any case. Thank you for writing.

Sincerely, Jack Grim

Hello again Blaise,

I am quite curious about the type of friendship we had before. You make it sound so interesting. They weill be letting me out for a meal with one of my houemates tomorrow. I can hardly wait. I will have to let you know how it all goes.

I have been doing lots of reading and studying, this seems to make both Professor Dumbledore and Snape happy. I can be insane, but I will be an educated nutter.

Be well, Jack Grim"

2002-12-06 12:03:00,
Lunch for Two and a Tour

An IC RP with Jack Grim, Blaise, then Snape.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed in his room, hands folded in his lap, and waiting. He blew up at some stray strands of his fringe that were in his eyes and sighed. He was going to actually get to leave his prison and eat with SOMEONE tonight, and he was anxious to get going. He was stuck here however, waiting for his escort.

A House Elf had come to fetch Blaise after her lessons, and guided her to the room. The Headmaster had told him the way to open the door, but House Elves were skilled at this anyway. Not that he would have broken the Headmaster's locks, no no. He rattled twice on the door, smiling up at the witch who was following him, and called out. "Master Jack! Mistress Zabini is here for you!"

Jack looked up when he heard the knock on the door , He rose from his bed and went to greet the visitors. He saw an attractive brunette girl in Slytherin robes, accompanied by a House Elf. He smiled warmly at her, and bowed politely, "Good afternoon."

Blaise waited by the door looking at the the rather eager, she couldn't believe it when she recieve the note that she was going to actually get to have a meeting with Jack. She wondered what had changed. But what would she do with this chance meeting? She wondered if Snape or Dumbledore would be there. Before she left she had scribbled a note to Roger and had a House Elf deliever it. Blaise double-checked her clothing to make sure that they were perfect before the door would be opened.

"Master and Mistress, the food has been taken to the common room for you, Taffy shall leave you now to eat," he said, bowed, and vanished.

Blaise smiled slightly as he bowed, she looked around the empty room and looked back at him, "Hello, Jack you look well." Blaise closly watched Jack she could tell he really couldn't remember who she was.

She really could have lots of fun with this if she wanted to, but something in her mind said to be careful because he could remember everthign any moment. Blaise then held out her hand, "I suppose that means I will be taking you to the common room."

Jack smiled at the young woman, something was familiar about her, but no more could he recall. He took her hand in his and said softly, "I suppose you know how bad my memory is... I am afraid I do not recall your name..." he said quietly as she led him from the small apartment and towards the Slytherin Common Room.

"My name is Blaise Sophia Zabini, you can call me Blaise or if there is something else you would rather call me that will make it easier." Blaise said in a soft and tender tone. She whispered the past word and the portait hole opened. Blaise peeked in and looked around she then pulled back and smiled at Jack, It is all clear, why don't you go in first?"

Jack smiled at Blaise, "Nice to meet you Miss Zabini," he said quietly, then when the portal opened and she bade him to enter first, he did so. He stepped into the passageway, then to the Common Room and looked around. Nothing looked familiar to him. Not a bloody thing. He sighed, then his gaze fell upon the feast that had been laid out for them. Troubles forgotten instantly. His mouth began to water. "Say! Look at all that food!"

Blaise watched him, "Yes it is rather a lot I am sure there is enough to feed me you and ten other people." Blaise walked over with Jack and sat down, "It looks amazing as well. So tell me, Jack, dear, have you rememebered anything at all yet, within the time we have met up?" Blaise placed some food on her plate and started to take small bites.

Jack sat down and immediately began to scoop things onto his plate, and was three mouthfulls down before he paused to reply to her questions. "I am remembering Potions of all things... Book stuff. Things I have learned," he explained. "I don't remember anything about the people I knew except for...." he paused considering, then muttered the last. "I remember things about Severus Snape," he said in a rush, then began shoveling the food down again.

Blaise nodded, "Well if you have any suggustions on how I could help you remember me even if it is a little let me know okay?" Blaise smiled softly as she sipped her pumpkin juice. Blaise watched him carefully; she never seen Jack act this way about food before. Perhaps it was the trama he might have gone through. She wondered what memories of Snape he had part of her really wanted to know and another part really didn't care. She looked up at him, "Would you like to share them or would you rather keep them to yourself?"

Jack continued to devour the food until after two full plates full, he paused, leaned back in the chair and looked around the room they were in. "Slytherin House Common Room." he commented, for the moment ignoring her question. He had read about the Four Houses in Hogwarts, a History, he did not recall them. After a moment, he looked back over at her again, "Share what? What I recall about Professor Snape?" he asked with a slight cock of his eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, if you want I am not going to force anything on you," Blaise said with a warm smile. She watched him carefully and then took another sip from her pumpkin juice, wondering if Jack would remember anything about her. She touched her lips wih her hand then brought it down to her chest. Listeing to the silence of the common room. She hadn't had a dinner like this for quite some time.

Jack watched her carefully, and the coy moves she made. Instinct perhaps, commen sense, or fear of getting eviscerated by Severus Snape told him he should say nothing of MOST of the memories concerning the man. "We worked together a lot." he offered after she paused in her seductive motions. He blinked, clearing his mind of the inappropriate thoughts now residing there. "Things like that mostly. I am guess we were quite close. Perhaps that is why I recall mostly things pertaining to him." he said in a neutral tone with an expression to match. He then went to drinking two goblets of juice, and reached for dessert.

"I do recall that you had saaid you were doing somethign for him, However we were pretty close. Too bad you can't remember that." Blaise toook a deep breath and smiled, "Perhaps in time you will until then." She took a bit from her dessert and looked around the room something about the quietness of the room was getting to her. Blaise yawned slightly, "Excuse me, sorry about that I was up late last night."

Jack watched her closely. Then a moment later, he set his fork down and leaned in closer to her. "Just HOW close were we Miss Zabini?" he asked in an even tone. "Please tell me that much." he said, then locked his eyes with hers.

Blaise kept her expression indifferent but then it fell a bit caught off guard. She thought to herself that he would come to a conclusion on his own. Blaise reached up and touched his face softly, "Jack, to be Honest what we had or might have again it was more than friendship, but it is a bit hard to explain." Blaise then pulled her hand away, he mind flooded for a moment on Adrian. Blaise closed her eyes and then opened them taking a sip from her pumpkin juice.

Jack froze as she touched him, then slowly blinked as she pulled back. He looked at her curiously. "More than friends...." he repeated. "How MUCH more..." he pressed, again looking at her closely. "I need to know these things," he sighed, "Someone, sometime had to start telling me about.... me." he explained.

Blaise her lip, "See the thing is you there was a few moments that things that might have happened, but didn't. And there was one time something did happen." Blaise sighed, "See Jack you and I both are private people, and we both have been through a lot." Blaise leaned in closer to him, " I know something but probably not near enough to satisify you to know more about you. I believe you have this huge secret that you can't or won't tell. As for informantion about you that might take longer than one dinner date." Blaise then looked at him, "I do wish you could remember more about me it hurts a little bit but I understand."

Jack watched Blaise closely, and tried to listen likewise. The girl did nothing but talk in circles, and it was more confusing then beneficial. God, was I shagging this girl and dumped her? he thought to himself angrily, not realizing he was broadcasting. Won't ANYONE give me a straight answer around here? he railed, then nodded politely. "I suppose then there is not much we can tell each ot her at this this point," he replied in a bored tone, and looked around the room again. He was dying to explore it. "I suppose this is where I SHOULD be living..." he mused a moment later.

Blaise nodding and got up and walked over to him, "Okay how about this Jack, perhaps if you kiss me it might bring back a memory or two, and I will also show you around the common room like to where you slept. I will try and give you as much info I can I don't want to over load you." Blaise held out her hand again for him to take.

Straight? There's an oxymoron if ever I've heard one, was the angry, disgruntled reply. Severus Snape was not in the least amused. Would you mind keeping your private life to yourself? Some of us rather enjoy our privacy. Peeved. Very much so.

Jack raised his eyebrows at her blunt offer, and then took her hand and let her lead him out of the room. He was just about to reply to her, when the angry silent diatribe came from Professor Snape. He winced, So I am... was... gay before all this happened? Like you? he inquired, then turned his attention back to Blaise. "Kiss you? You think I should kiss you?" he asked as he followed her along.

Blaise was heading up the stairs when Jack finally spoke, "Kiss me, I don't see how it could hurt it isn't like we haven't before." Blaise then turned away and headed up the stairs again but then stopped and looked at him, "I could bring good memories and perhaps bad ones or even other memories that don't even concern me." She stopped and looked at him and then spoke again, "Just so you know- this staircase leads to the boys' dorms yours will be coming up soon."

Well you certainly bent to go over the fucking desk! Whatever ELSE you were doing I have no bloody idea, came the still-furious response. Snape was sitting at the staff table in the main hall, but stood up sharply, scraping his chair back over the wood and murmuring some excuse to Minerva, who was sitting next to him, and ignoring the polite question from Hagrid. He stormed out, unable to sit there any longer.

Jack looked at Blaise, considering her offer when the mental blast came in from Snape. He winced at the severity of it all, then managed to give her an amused smile. "I'll think about it." he said, remaining non commital to her and her offers for the moment. So I have been bent by you and myself then? he replied silently, then cracked a wide grin.

Blaise smiled back at him, "You do that, but don't think too hard." She smiled gentlely and noticed he had a wide grin, "What has you so amused, 'Mister Grim'?" Blaise ran her fingers throught her hair and then she opened the door to the 5th year boy's dorms, "This is your room."

There is a convention, Mr. Grim, in which one ensures one is not being inappropriate. Perhaps that is one custom you should like to adopt? He stormed down to his rooms quickly, glad to be away from prying eyes, and found his office as soon as he possibly could, before replying with just as much... mischief? Whatever it was. Bent, twisted, pinned, bound... forgive me if I missed anything out. He wasn't going to bloody well back down. He'd had enough of that.

Jack laughed softly, "I am amused by many things." he commented, then stepped ahead of her into the dorm room. Something about this room seemed familiar. He sniffed, yes, he could smell... something familiar. Just then, Snape's reply played out in his head. First the scolding which caused him to wince at the tone, then came the second part. Darkly wicked, salacious, and enticing. He felt a charge twinge in his body, settling in his groin, and his cheeks suddenly flushed with colour. He stopped his slow walk around of the room, and leaned back against one of the posts of his bed. You randy thing... he thought, then shaking his head, tried to push that train of thought away, and concentrate on examining the room, looking for clues.

Blaise pointed to a bed near his, "That is Draco's. You both used to be friends, I am not sure what happened there. And those to beds there belong to Twiddledee and Twiddledumb also known as Crabbe and Goyle." She walked over to him and took his hand and walked him to the arrow slit which had a small vie of the lake, "See that spot near the lake but also near the forest that is were we have talked and things...." Blaise took a step back and also let go of his hand, as she did so she took a deep breath and sighed. She thought to herself a bit more wondering what was going on inside his head.

Complaining? Snape asked, blinking slowly, his voice deliberately purring even in his mind. Oh well I suppose I should practice what I preach and leave you to what you are doing... He fumbled about with the books on his desk, even though he knew Jack couldn't tell what he was doing.

Jack tried his best to make mental notes of all of this information, then came Snape's reply, and his grin widened. No, SIR.... but that, and you, may be the cure I need.... he throught as he again turned his attention to Blaise and her tour. "By the lake huh?" he asked, then suddenly, something flashed in his mind. Memories. Bodies bare, together in the grass. It was like movie clips played at 100 times normal speed, and caused him to stagger with a sudden dizzyness. So much so, he reached out and gripped the stone of the wall. "Wow.... that sort of rang a bell..." he muttered.

Blaise looked at him, "Is that so? What do you remember?"

How could I refuse to help if it was within my power? Snape asked, mock-dramatic, but sounding incredibly sincere. He'd mastered the art of pretence a long time hence. Toyed with things as a distraction, but it wasn't helping. This was familiar territory. If it frustrated him more than anything else.

Jack grinned wider, blinking slowly at Blaise. "I recalled something about that area,"he confessed, looking out at the patch of woods. "I've been there... been with... people I imagine." He glanced back at her, lifting an eye brow, "I couldn't see details, just flashes of things..." he said. "We were there, you and I, weren't we?" he asked, then sent a simple thought to Snape, I would be grateful for such help, Sir.

"Yes we were but I seems to me that you didn't remember us. Oh, well I think I shall escort you back to your room I do need to get going to London." Blaise said in a slightly hurt tone and she started to walk out of the room. She wasn't sure what Jack's response would be but she figured she would find out sooner or later.

Jack looked at her as she turned away, he could tell he had disapointed her on some level. He seemed to be good at that. "I'm sorry if I don't remember what you want me to. I can tell there was something between us, just by how you are reacting..." he said sadly, then nodding, he began to follow her out of the dorms and back to his room of solitude. "Thanks for trying though..."

Well, you'll have to call for your books, sometime,< /i> he stated. The House Elves will not like carting them to and fro- and I do not trust them with them. He looked up at the clock. Oh the joys of third years...

"Don't patronize me Jack, perhaps you don't want to rememeber. I am not going to push you, you will remember what you want to remember." Blaise continued to talk to his room and when she reached it she opened the door. She then gave him a wistful smile, "I am sorry I couldn't help you more, I suppose I shall say good bye, and if you want to talk to me again just write me. However I don't know if they will allow me here again. So until we meet again."

Then I shall call for my study materials and specify who the courier should be. he thought as he walked along with Blaise, then he heard the hurt tone in her voice. "Blaise, I'm sorry I don't remember what you want me to remember. I remember almost nothing of my life, I remember no one. Not just you," he tried to explain, but then went silent, and shook his head as he continued to walk to his room. He gave her a smile at the door, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Thanks for everything Blaise. Be well, and I will be in touch." he added before going inside.

Snape grumbled. I'm sure that'll go down well. He had to stop thinking like this, now. Had to live in a different world, a different him. It was hard. Increasingly so.

Blaise didn't say anything more- she thought to herself that it was best, not say anything or react to anything. She then headed to her room and grabbed a few things, before she had to leave by Floo-Powder to meet with her father. And what an interesting meeting that would be.

Someone knowledgeable on the handling, care and selection of said materials I need is what I meant. Jack replied silkily after Blaise had left him at the door, and he watched the door shut and lock itself. He went to his bed and sat down on it, sullking. See, I CAN learn tact and subterfuge. he sent, then flopped down on his back and sighed. I pissed off that girl Blaise. I didn't remember her, or what we had going. he sighed, then closed his eyes.

Snape grunted mentally. Well, there is no more dedicated a study than I, and I challenge you to find another so devoted to the task... He started setting out things as the Hufflepuffs filtered in. Due pains must be taken, or the results do not turn out favourably... He was half-thinking about his own discipline- couldn't help but in his place of work. He stilled when Jack started talking about Blaise, a frisson of possesive jealousy sparking. Perhaps that is for the best, he suggested huffily.

Jack nodded, even though Snape would not be able to see that. I think it was something that was over a long time ago, if there ever WAS anything. he surmised. I didn't feel anything from her like I do when... he thought, then paused, letting just the thought there finish what he was going to say.

The 'voice' on the other end sounded slightly mollified, if still forcedly grumpy, and the classroom inexorably filled. He was not happy in the least about enforced separation, he was realising. And wouldn't put up with it much longer. Not that he had any leverage. I shall persuade the Headmaster that you are here to... learn... he thought. And speaking of, my class is waiting for me. Reluctant.

Jack sighed, nodding and felt another wave of loneliness and depression wash over him. I understand Mr.Snape. I won't trouble you any more.... I will request the books tomorrow. Thank you... he thought, then rolled over onto his belly, and extinquished the candles in his room with a muttered "Nox", and closed his eyes. He kicked off his shoes with a pair of thumps on the floor, and then sighed.

The Potions Master mentally laughed at that form of address. 'Professor' is the more usual title. I haven't heard the former in years. Hm where were we... Ah yes. Invisibility Serum. I don't know if you remember this. Might want to listen if you do. Never know what comes up in the OWLs... he said, mind wandering a little as he found himself in his element.

Jack opened his eyes, and thought, I should call you Professor, then? he inquired, then sat up. I could take notes while you.... think it to me...<i /> he thought brightly, then reignited the candles in his room, and went to sit at his desk, a quill and a parchment at the ready.

Call me anything else in class and I'll teach you the death of a thousand cuts, Snape relayed, amused. One good thing about studying Defence so closely, you found all the interesting hexes. I suppose you have the 'Most Potente' to hand? Yes? well turn to page 15... he instructed and proceeded to teach two groups siumltaneously. No mean feat, but it kept his mind busy, which was no bad thing.

And outside of class....? he asked cheekily, then began to take copious amounts of notes.

My Lord Most High And Reverend Master Of All He Sees' will do just fine, he replied. Now copy out that diagram already."

2002-12-06 21:22:00,
What a day....

I was allowed parole for a dinner with Miss Blaise Zabini of my own house. She was a vexing creature. So much she said, and didn't, inferred, and denied. She and I have a history but I am not sure to what degree.

She wanted me to kiss her in hopes of starting my memory into working again, but I refrained.

Snape's voice in my ear told me more of what I suspected was occuring between us, "Before" my illness. He seems as eager as I to indulge, but his desires are carefully veiled and subtle in nature, unlike my brash communiques... He seemed rather taken aback and angry to hear my inquiries regarding dalliances with Miss Zabini... He almost sounded... jealous? That can't be... I am insane.

In any case, we are trying to arrange a meeting place, for some "therapy". Wouldn't that be a kick in the arse if such perversions healed the sickened mind?

I feel like I am myself, mostly, it's just my memory is lost. I wonder how much of it I really want to recover, or shall I start anew?

I want to know, I really do, yet at the same time... Ignorance is bliss, don't they say. I am sure Professor Snape would argue that point. He found a way to instruct me mentally along with a class of Hufflepuffs this afternoon. I am not sure HOW he and I are able to talk the way we do, perhaps I shall ask him tomorrow.

Tomorrow is another day after all.

2002-12-08 20:58:00,
House Elf Post to Cho Chang

Hello again Cho,

I wish I could express to you how much your letter made me think, and consider many things. You think I was traumatized, that is why I have lost my memory? Have such things happened to me in the past? Please tell me if you know. The people I do have conversations with, (Professor Snape, Blaise Zabini) they talk in circles, or innuendo. I am guessing Blaise and I had the briefest of affairs and are no longer "together". I get this feeling from the way she acts around me, and frankly, if this is how she is, she would drive me to distraction. I mean, she seems nice enough, but there is just something....

I don't mean to ramble to you about other women. I just somehow feel you will give me the answers I seek. If you would like, I could see if the Headmaster will allow us to visit with each other for tea perhaps. Let me know your feelings on this, and I promise not to interrogate you.

Sincerely, Jack Grim"

2002-12-08 21:02:00,
House Elf to Blaise Zabini

Greetings Blaise,

I wanted to thank you for the wonderful dinner we had the other day. Please forgive me for taking so long to drop you a note. Professor Snape is keeping me busy with lessons. It seems it is OK with my Head of House for me to have amnesia, but not to be stupid.

I hope that the visit was pleasant for you as well, and I know it made you sad I did not recall much about our "past" but keep faith. I may yet, one never knows. Please take care, and thank you again.

Sincerely, Jack Grim"

2002-12-09 17:36:00,
A Question if you please..

An IC RP with Jack Grim and Severus Snape.

As it turned out, Jack DIDN'T ask Severus about the way the managed to communicate the next day, other matters and schemes had kept him busy, along with a mountain of homework assigned by said Professor. It wasn't until a couple of days later, not long after the evening meal when he thought to ask again. Radio silence except for prods about assignments had been the routine, so after looking at the clock over his bed, and guessing the Professor would be done with his meal, he called, Sir, I have a question if you are not too busy...

Snape had a detention to supervise. It was his own fault for giving it out. A couple of Gryffindor second years- who were due to clean the room. He had been sitting and waiting for them when he heard the call, and was for a minute disoriented. Eventually, he found his ground again. Tell me what it is and I shall tell you if I am too preoccupied or not, he replied, decidedly in a neutral (for him) tone.

Jack thought the answer sounded calm enough, well, he wasn't being outright berrated, so he continued. How do we talk like we do? Like this? I am surmising no one else can hear or intercept what we commicate this way. he inquired, then took a bite of a pastry, the last survivor of a now depleted plate full.

Snape nodded. He'd wondered when this question would come, and was only surprised it took so long. The Gryffindors weren't late yet, and he guessed that with nothing but cloths and cleaner there was little mischief they would be able to manage if he split them up. He could deal with this for now. Put your hand to your neck, he instructed, asking the little snake there to make itself known. An enchanted talisman, fuelled by blood, and some very ancient incantations. I trust you do not want to know all the intricacies of the device? he asked. There are several books on it... He sounded slightly amused at that. He knew he could perscribe a book for everything, practically, but at least these he had read most of them if not all.

Jack did as he was instructed, and reached his hand up to the metal serpent around his neck. As he did so, it animated and began to slide the circumference of his throat. He paused, initially frightened, but just as quickly as that had come, the feeling waned, and he felt the tickle of a wee metal tongue flicker over his fingertips before the Ouroboros continued it's circular exploration. You gave this to me... he stated, daze like as he tried to recall when, where, and WHY? he closed his eyes and thought, tried to force the memory to come, but nothing. A moment passed, I think perhaps, I should wait to research this when my activities are not so closely monitored, Sir. came the diplomatic decision.

Yes... Snape answered to the first, then rose, as he heard the timid knock to his door. He called for the boys to enter, which they did, handed them their cloths, and pointed them to different ends of the classroom, before sitting again. He listened to Jack's second thought. A wise decision if I may say so myself, he sent, then snorted. "No, please, put that down unless you like webbed fingers Mr Gilcrest..." Snape continued to let the Ouroboros play, it doing what he couldn't, and then slowly eased back down into his chair a second time.

Jack laid back down on his bed, licking the jam from his fingers, and looked out of his arrow loop at the cloudy sky outside. As he closed his eyes, he felt the metallic asp slip around his neck again, pause to nudge at a spot just behind his left ear, then it slipped down from around his neck, and across his chest, ever so slowly. Jack felt the movement and at first tensed, then something told him to relax, and with a sigh, he complied. A lonely aching emotion trickled from him mentally, but he said, nor asked anything further.

Messrs Gilcrest and Atwood were suitably cowed, and worked in mechanical silence. The Potions Master half forgot they were there- and only felt partially guilty for this, but not overly, for they were interrupting his time. His time. Since when had he started counting the hours? He urged his serpentine pet to slide first to one shoulder, and wrap its way slowly around. You see, it does what I ask... he said, eventually, darkly amused.

Jack's breathing was slowed, calm, and his mental state was likewise, almost trancelike. It was the calmest he could recall feeling since... Since he had awoken, like this. Just like I should? came the lazy, serene reply some moments later as he digested that fact.

Yes. I know best, came the mental smirk. Snape bit his bottom lip a little and half-closed his eyes as he let the Ouroboros curl about Jack's bicep like a living torc, slowly working its way down until it was wrapped about his wrist, head resting on his pulsepoint, and tongue flickering out to taste his palm from time to time, sliding itself gently across warm skin- like a real snake, taking heat from its surroundings.

Jack returned a soft sigh of content, of submission, althought he had no idea to just WHAT he was submitting to. He smiled as the snake explored over him, tasted him, and kept him company. He imagined the metallic touch was a cold hand, a fingertip on his pulse, and he moaned softly, resettling his hips on the bed with a slow lift, and decent. This will drive me insane if I am not already... I can't be alone. he thought, then shut off that avenue of thinking, knowing it would not be a pleasant place to be.

Ah but isn't everyone always ultimately alone... came the silent musing, sounding rather melancholy, with a touch of wistfullness to it. Just fumbling in the dark, and trying not to own up to the fact. Snape realised he had been- well, waxing poetical, and shut up. Those thoughts were for elsewhere, not airing for general scorn and derision. The small, angular head butted into the base of Jack's thumb, and then it started hising its tongue over and along fingers, the tip of its tail tracing small circles. Don't get me bloody started alright? It isn't the wisest of ideas.

Jack sighed and lifted a finger to stroke along the back of the Ouroboros, slowly down atop it's spine, head to tail. He felt the miniature scales under his fingertip, and smiled. I know now that I am never truly alone Sir, I have you to thank for that and so much more I am sure. I just can't recall it. he said, then lifted his hand holding the tiny viper up, near to his mouth, and brushed the tip of it's snout along his upper lip slowly. Goodnight Sir, thank you again. he sent as a final message.

The first sign of madness is talking to yourself...... the second sign? Replying. Snape closed his eyes, briefly, as Jack brought the snake to his lips, wishing they didn't have to do this, wishing it wasn't the only way right now. But it was. And complaining wouldn't change a single damn thing. Goodnight. We are both mad then, I suppose, he sent, amused. Weary. He wanted nothing more than to go to bed and sleep the night away. He looked up. The Gryffindors had finished early. Fifteen mintues, to be sure. "Well what are you loitering for?" he hissed at them, and they looked stunned. "Be off with you before I find you more work to do." They didn't need telling twice, and Snape was left to retire, leaving the link still open, not broadcasting anything other than his need for sleep, and relaxation."

2002-12-09 17:52:00,
We are linked

The serpent around my neck. Sometimes animated, sometimes inert, links me to Professor Severus Snape. I wonder more now about it for several reasons. Firstly, because I am to keep it secret, hidden from all but he and I.

He didn't tell me this, I just know it. Things I don't understand are coming to me in the strangest of ways and moments. Epiphanys they are called when they are religious in nature. These thoughts, and these instincts have nothing to do with anything divine.

He can cause it to move, and he did so. It slithered over me the way a hand would, if it could. If it was allowed to. The way I want it to. It is a very powerful object, and I feel it is Dark Magic in origins. Again, another hunch I have, and in the absense of a novel on my life, I am learning to trust my gut.

I want out of here. I want to be with people again. I want to be allowed to return to classes, to his classes. I like the feel of his gaze upon me. For now, it's all I have."

2002-12-11 17:45:00,
Touch me not....

An IC RP with Snape and Grim.

Jack sat at his desk, reading. He was now getting enough food to keep him satisfied as far as that went, and more text books had arrived from his personal supply, but the ones he desired most, from the Potions Master had yet to arrive. Perhaps they weren't coming at all. He knew nagging would do no good. He was quickly learning just what WOULD and would NOT work with Professor Severus Snape. He preferred to stay on his Good List. He paused to take a drink of Pumpkin Juice, and went back to an essay Snape had been so kind to assign to him.

Severus Snape had, with a little bit of coercion and elbows, managed to convince the Headmaster that Jack was in need of some feedback regarding his studies. He was there to learn, after all, and he had his OWLs coming up. Severus Snape would not let someone skip an exam unless both their arms were being eaten by bugblatters and their mouth was too busy hexing them away to dictate. And then he'd mark them as present if they were in the room and fail them for poor self defence. Albus had finally relented. And so he was here, with yet more books. (You could never have enough.) As the House Elf rattled politely to alert Jack to their presence, Snape sent a knocking sound of his own, but a mental one. Is there anybody there? he asked, sounding bored.

Jack paused in his writing, just managing to keep from dropping a large blot of ink in the middle of his essay, and stowed the quill in it's holder. "Come in..." he called out verbally, then smiled as he heard the other inquiry. Just a student, willing to learn Sir, came the bright reply. Jack slid his chair back and rose to his feet to greet his arriving guests. He watched the door as it opened, waiting to see who would be in the party.

The House Elf opened the door with some small wave of its hand before it reached for the handle, and turned. It started pushing the door open and was about to step in when the taller figure behind, black-clad and looming, pushed past. The elf jumped back a little, shocked, but quickly covered that up. "You may leave us now, I trust the door will reseal itself when I am gone," he said without looking back- a statement not a question- walking straight over to the table and plonking his stack of books down. A bit of dust rose. The elf replied a quick, slightly garbled assurance, and ducked backwards out of the room, closing the door behind it. Snape stood behind his pile, and waited a while before saying anything. "I do hope there is nothing I have forgotten?"

Jack looked over at Professor Snape, his expression a cross between amusement and uncertainty. Imagining the things he had been lately, then having the real thing standing there looming over him were two different breeds of cat entirely he realized, then with a nod, he quickly moved to sit at his desk again, and looked over the titles that had been brought. Most were of course ones no student ever would lay an eye or finger upon, and in the middle of the stack was one that cause his stroking finger to pause upon, and then retrieve. He held the book gently and carefully opened it's elaborate cover and breathed out a sigh of something akin to lust. "I recall this one...." he whispered reverently as he turned the pages carefully. A moment later, he turned to look over his shoulder and up at the imposing form behind him. "You gave me this one, didn't you Sir?" he stated, more than asked softly.

Snape had a patented 'don't be an ass' look that he reserved for people when he actually did have a shred of patience left, but it was being worn thin. He'd never suffered fools gladly, for any reason. Weakness was a sign of, well, weakness. Intellectually, verbally, physically- it didn't matter. He didn't deny the fact, just looked as though he thought there were better ways to spend his time. "Have you something for me to look at?" he asked, not making a move to find it himself. Other teachers might wait- Snape was still setting essays. Even Minerva wasn't that bad. He was stilled, face unreadable, half way between extremes- somewhere underneath.

Jack looked away from him then and ruffled through the piles of parchment on the table, shoving his journal to the bottom of a pile, then handed up three sheets of parchment that were complete, and the one he had been working on when the Professor had entered. "These are the ones from during the week Sir, the classes you communicated to me," he said, then added, "Thank you for that opportunity and extra consideration Sir," he said, then showed him the uncompleted one. "This is what I was working on when you arrived. I am still making notes for the final draft." he said, then turned to look back down at the open book before him. He could tell gaping at Snape while he looked over his work would not be a good move.

He took the papers with an almost dainty grace, scan-reading them in turn, murmuring when he saw something he disagreed with, or would have described differently, but reserving final judgement until later. He rolled them up, one-handed, and slid them into a pocket somewhere in his robes. Them all being the same shade of black, it was rather easy to do so without anyone being able to follow the minor sleight of hand required. The uncompleted parchment flopped over backwards from its own weight, the paper well-used, and he flicked it back up- only to have it fall down again. Snorting, Snape made his way to the table, and smoothed it out, using the inkwell to stop the top from curling down. His eyes followed paragraphs quickly. He looked up. "I do hope you are going to synthesize the reverse arguement in before you reach the end? Or were you intending to treat them seperately?" he asked, looking up.

Jack swallowed as he watched Snape battle with the unruly parchment, and then blinked to the here and now when he was posed with a question. "I uh... was going to treat them separately Sir." he said at last, "I wanted to treat them as two different and equal points of view, and not show my preference for either, leaving the reader to make that decision on his own." he explained, then reached for his glass of juice, his mouth was suddenly parched. He noticed then that his heart was racing and how nervous he was. He had to get this just right. Perfect. He wasn't sure why. He just knew he had to. It was as if his very future relied upon it.

Snape mumbled a little, let his eyes roam a minute longer, absorbed with questions of technique. "The only problem with that is you often throw more light one one or the other. The last, usually, unless it is only a mediocre amount and the beginning was very persuasive... which has led to many a person leaving their best till last and then having no time to argue the point they actually felt strongly about..." A wry grin. "Every method has its downfalls." The Potions Master straightened, brushing his hands over his knees slightly, and groaning a little, mentally, about tables being the wrong size for tall people, who ended up having sore backs. He looked over at Jack, puzzled a moment, weighing up his behaviour.

Jack was still reading the book and nodding at the critiques he was receiving, then paused when he could feel the heavy gaze upon him from the side. He ever so slightly moved his eyes to look in that direction, not having to move the position of his head at all, and found his gaze locked with a pair of black, and bottomless eyes. He blinked slowly, and then cleared his throat, "I shall try not to... to not fall into that trap, Sir..." he said quietly, then sat there, watching Snape. He realized a moment later that his mouth was still agape, and his pulse racing, so he quickly closed his mouth, and turned away, he could not maintain that gaze. Not with him.

Severus Snape watched. It was all really rather amusing-- almost... What was the word? He wasn't sure, but there must be one, for this almost... coy-? behaviour. He was not used to eliciting this sort of response from anyone. Not even Jack. He found he quite liked it, all things said and done. Not like the way some people stared right through him, or others just plain jeered when THEY leered. He bit his bottom lip before replying, eyes intense, and fixed, and focused. For all the time it took to say it, it was rather a short response. "Good." He was heavily aware of his breathing. It sounded too loud- rattling through his nose, amplified a hundred-fold, but he supposed that was just him. He hoped it was just him. He left his eyes, with great difficulty, trail down from those of Jack's, which weren't meeting his, and to his neck- where he knew his little silver serpent still lay, curled.

Jack turned the pages in the book, slowly and carefully, his eyes washed over the illustrations, charts, and the hand written notes in the margins in different handscripts, and colors of black inks. He could feel the gaze upon him, moving over him as if it were the feather touch of fingertips, long, and chilly ones. He shivered at that thought, then squinted his eyes shut, damning himself for doing so. What was the problem? If his dreams were truthful and the innuendo that had been silently tossed about was true... being this close to this man, being ALONE with him should not be affecting him like this. Or should it. He licked at his lips again, and forced himself to open his eyes and look down at the book, the page open to him. Undetectable Love Draughts for Friends and Foes. Reflexively, he shut the book, and carefully set it aside. "Is the work done satisfactory so far, Sir?" he asked, jumping his mind back to another subject. Any other subject.

The slightest of smirks slid across thin lips, swallowed as quick as it came, when Snape started speaking, carefully enunciating each syllable, rolling them on his tongue, enjoying speaking. It really was a pleasure not to have to bark and shout all the time- or even not to hiss. "Room for improvment, certainly, but at least you can string a semi-coherant thought together... in Potions at least." He drew himself up straighter, started looking around the room again. "Has no one else given you anything to concentrate on?" he asked, but didn't sound surprised.

Jack felt the temperature drop in the area around him when Snape stood up and gve him a bit of breathing space, and pose another question. "No. Not really Sir," he said, looking around the room, trying to see what Snape might be looking at, or for. "The headmaster has brought me books on Hogwarts mostly, none of the other professors have sent work as yet." he reported, then let his eyes wander over the tall and imposing back view of the Professor. Another shudder. He sat there, unmoving, transfixed.

Snape shook his head as he seemed fascinated by one of the walls. Even though it was practically the same as the other three. Perhaps it was a little more bare than them. And it was the one closest to Albus' office... He bit his lip and thought a while. No. It was very, very foolish, and stupid of him to even think it. He turned rather swiftly from the wall, a tad flushed, and let himself look at Jack again. Oh one of these days he would drive himself to utter insanity, he knew. "Really. How lax," was his comment. Bored-sounding, but with- an undercurrent? It was always difficult to tell with him, he never wore anything too openly. A heavy exhalation. He should be leaving already, there was nothing else for him to do, no marked work to discuss, nothing.

The Potions Master took a breath in as though to speak- but was pre-empted by the large clock on the wall chiming noisily, and the little cuckoo that came screaming out was squawking 'Late! Late Professor Snape!'. Snape turned and muttered something under his breath, waving his wand. The cuckoo, made dumb, could only look annoyed. Snape smirked. "As he says: for whom the bell tolls..." He walked up to Jack, until he was standing practically full on in his face, held his eye a moment, before he leaned forwards, and brushed past him, bringing one finger down to tap a particular spot on the essay. "Try defining that first," he suggested, looking up. Stayed there a moment, to watch his reaction, before slowly withdrawing, invading his personal space still farther on his retreat, nose brushing far too close to neck and hair and- was he inhaling? A mental purr, a mantra of possession, two dark, heavy-lidded eyes blinking once, and he turned and left the room in his usual flurry of black, a laugh still echoing somewhere.

It had happened all so fast, and was so unexpected, yet wanted. Powerful and numbing, terrifying and erotic. Jack had no time to react until the door had slammed shut, locked and he was alone again. "Fuck me...." he swore under his breath, still trembling and shivering from a sudden chill that filled the room, his back was suddenly awash in a light, nervous sweat. The laughter echoed in his mind, along with the message sent and received. He pushed back from the table, and stood up on unsteady legs, looking around the room desperately for, what? "God how I need a fag right now..." he muttered, then ran his hand through the long fringe obscurring his vision, and staggered into the water closet, slamming and locking the door shut behind him."

2002-12-12 16:28:00,
Tea with Cho - Part ONE of Two

Albus has kept it a secret from Jack that he was going to have a visitor for tea that afternoon, but he had run the prospect by Professor Snape, and Cho Chang, while from another house; was deemed harmless to the recovering young man. Jack was laying on his bed reading the Potions Book Professor Snape had given him for his birthday, (his favorite by far) when there was a knock on his door. He looked over just as a House Elf entered pushing a heavily laden Tea Cart. "Master Jack Grim needs to get ready for tea!" it squeaked at him as the cart was pushed into the center of the room, "Master Jack is going to have a Ravenclaw visit for Tea!" It smiled at Jack. Jack sat up, eyes blinking with confusion. "Someone's coming for tea?" he asked, closing the book and putting it on a shelf over his bed. "Who? Who's coming for tea?" he asked, confused that he hadn't been told.

She had been told that was where he was, and though she hadn't seen him there or anywhere else for quite some time, she could still picture him clearly in her mind. Would he at all be anything like she remembered him?

Taking a tentative step forward she raised her lightly clenched fist to the door and rapped on it lightly, if he were asleep she didn't wish to disturb him.

Jack looked to the door when there was a second knock, and a panicked looked came over his face, "Just a minute," he called out, then raced around his room looking for his wand. When he found it, he quickly did a cleaning charm on the room, himself, and made the bed up in no time at all. He looked around a final time, then set the wand on his nightstand table, "Come in..." he called out, then tried his best to strike a casual pose. His two-toned fringe was hanging in his eyes yet again, and quickly he brushed it aside with his hand as the door opened.

For some reason Cho had expected him to be dressed in his pajamas and lying in bed, shaking and feverish, but the Jack Grim she saw looked nothing like that.

He didn't seem quite as poised as she was accustomed to seeing him as, and there was even something a little innocent about him, but apart from those differences he appeared exactly like the last time she had laid eyes on him.

Glancing around the room for a moment, Cho took a few small steps inside the room, though she was still close enough to the door to leave if he asked her to.

Clearing her throat, she locked her eyes on him and smiled, "Hello Jack."

Jack smiled nervously at the young woman, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, and greet her, he realized that while she looked familiar, he could not recall her name. "That's Miss Cho Chang... a Ravenclaw Sir," the house elf whispered in Jack's ear as he finished his setting of the tea, then vanished with a "crack" sound. Jack smiled wider, relieved. "Hello Miss Chang," he said with a slow step toward her, then offered her his hand. "Thank you for coming to see me." he said softly.

She extended her hand to shake his and hoped that her expression didn't betray any surprise; she had completely forgot that he wouldn't know what she looked like anymore.

"That's all right," she assured him, and then offered a small grin, "do I look like my hand-writing?"

Jack's eyes twinkled with something they hadn't for longer than he knew as he gazed upon her, and he felt, warm looking at her, there was no other word for it. "Your hand writing is gracefull and calming to me, and your presence is the same." he said with a grin, then looked away to the table as a slight coloring came to his cheeks. "Well, the elves certainly out did themselves for us, there is enough food here for an entire house." he commented as he continued to hold her hand in his, then lead her over to the table for a look.

"Indeed," she agreed with a nod, surveying the spread, "if I didn't know any better I'd expect they thought I was staying for a while."

She gave him a sidelong glance and corrected herself, "not that I'm not staying for a while, or a little bit anyway, I mean ... I'll stay for as long as you feel up to it."

Jack let go of her hand only when he needed both to pull out a chair for her at the small table against the wall. "I am glad you came to see me at all. I have been rather cut off from the world since being ill, and I relish any company I can get." he explained. After she was seated, he took the other seat, and flashed a shy glance at her before looking over the food. His stomach was already starting to growl. "I've only had Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore for company now and then. Of course, Miss Zabini came to visit me a few days back." he said with an odd tone to his voice. "That was certainly interesting..." he said as he reached for the teapot.

Cho nodded again as watched him pour the tea and fought back the urge to scoff at the mention of Blaise Zabini's name, there was something quite untowards about that witch.

"I suppose that's one word for her," she said lightly, "was she able to help you with your memories much? I imagine as a fellow Slytherin you knew her quite well, same classes and such."

Jack looked up from pouring her cup of tea, and handed it to her with a look that said "no" to that question. "She confused me more than anything. She would drop clues, give hints, but not tell me much of anything. I am going by my gut on this, but I am guessing we had some sort of "relationship" but it was brief and she wants it to continue or resume." he said with a droll tone. He looked at Cho for a moment, then continued, "I get the feeling from you however, that we were good friends, and did a lot of talking, about real things I mean." he said with a nervous smile, then poured his own cup.

Cho accepted the tea cup and allowed herself a small and triumphant smile at that remark, though a moment later she was chastising herself for being so petty about it. Still, it did somehow make her feel a bit more validated that Jack seemed to appreciate her friendship, or he had a vague feeling that he used to ...

"You never talked to me about Blaise," she said, not bothering to be subtle about the inference that the Slytherin girl was certainly not a "real thing" they discussed, "but we did talk about other things ... I hope I was a good friend to you."

Jack prepared his tea, then looked over at her as he selected a scone, then took a bite out of it before adding some honey butter. "That is what I want you to tell me if you will Cho," he said, using the more familiar address, her first name. "I feel I can trust you above anyone, even the Professors to tell me what I want to know about myself. I feel there are things I NEED to know, and that perhaps people want me to forget..." he said, watching her face for her reaction closely.

Her tea cup was poised just in front of her mouth when he said that, and she averted her eyes into the liquid briefly before taking a sip.

Replacing the cup in it's saucer on the table, Cho took in a sort breath and tried to unblinkingly face him.

"Perhaps there are people who want you to forget," she said evenly, running a finger nervously along the edge of the table, "and I don't know if I'm the one you should place so much trust in, there is very little I can tell you."

Taking in another breath, she continued. "But the little I know is yours if you want it, they're not my secrets and no one has asked me not to say anything ... I think there might be a lot of things that you should forget, and maybe it's better if you never did find them out. That's not my choice to make, however."

Jack paused in the drinking of his own tea, and watched her intently, listening to the tone in her voice. "It's unfair to ask this of you, I realize. I am sure there is stuff I am better off not recalling...." he said, voice trailing off as he thought. He set his tea down, and took another bite of scone before continuing. "Well, I am going nutters in here not recalling anything but Potion Formulas..." he explained, the looked her in the eyes again, once she returned his gaze. "Please Cho, tell me what we have done, and something good about myself." he said at last, then sat back in his chair to listen.

"What we've done." She repeated the words, not as an echoed question that he might reiterate, just as a series of sounds she could try and focus on, make some sense of.

"We've spent time together," she stated the obvious, "we've talked ..." I've tried to sit in your lap before and who knows what I may have tried if not for the small mercies of interruption ... Cho closed her eyes for a moment and ignored those improper thoughts, trying to give him a better sense of himself through her eyes.

" ... about each other mostly, I think we played guessing games a lot - or I did, never could quite figure you out," she gave a short laugh, amazed that she could make that admission. "You were a good and loyal friend, Jack, a protector. And perhaps if it means anything, maybe you'll feel better about yourself knowing that I thought those things of you."

Jack listened to her, and was again puzzled by her answers. It seemed no one was willing to give him a straight out, yes or no, black or white answer about him. Had he been that awful? He nodded slowly, and ran his finger tip around the top of his cup as he thought, then asked, "Was I a secretive person Cho? Did I keep everything about me hidden, or was I just this total arse?" He asked, then watched her closely for her initial reaction as he sipped his tea.

Cho gave a short laugh and smiled, shaking her head, "No, you weren't a horrible person, although I don't think you let many people get close enough to find that out. Sometimes ... sometimes you were difficult to deal with, and a lot of the time impossible to understand, but you weren't mean or cruel."

She took another sip of her tea before answering the first part of the question, it seemed bigger and a lot more important to her, but she doubted it had as much bearing on him.He couldn't remember, most of this stuff wouldn't mean anything to him.

"You were very secretive," she said honestly, there was no way to sugar coat the answer, "But your reasons for being so were good ones, or so you led me to believe. You were protecting people from something."

Jack nodded and thought about her answers, adding them to what little else people had told him about him, and it was quickly becoming apparent to him that he most likely led a life of duplicity, and kept much about his dealings to himself, or someone other than Cho or Blaise. He wondered where Severus Snape fit into all of this. Was he the one he was protecting? Was it someone else? If that was the case, he was pretty much useless as a guardian now. "I suppose I never told you just who I was protecting, eh?" he asked, and poured more tea for the both of them.

Sophist Cho: "No," she said immediately, maybe too immediately.

She looked away for a moment and wondered whether she should mention that night in the Slytherin common room, the tunnel, Professor Snape's rooms ... he hadn't asked, but it wasn't something that was unimportant. She had suspected there was more to it, but he never told her - should she pass on something that amounted to little more than a rumour?

"You might have been protecting us all."

Jack rested his chin on his hands as he leaned on the table, thinking this over, trying to remember. The things he wanted to ask most about, Professor Snape and his relationship with him, he was sure was an improper topic on many levels. He was fairly certain he may have been a star student with him as well as... something more. He wondered if any of that was common knowledge. He had to only think on that a second, and the vision of Snape's stern face to know that would NEVER be the case. "I might have been protecting several people for different reasons," he mused quietly, then looked at her, focused again. "Am I currently involved with anyone Cho?" he asked, then with a grin and a lift of an eyebrow, added, "Girls? Boys?" he smirked, then waited.

Cho gave him a blank look and blinked a few times, ignoring the compulsion to be deceitful with him on this matter.

"I think you were very popular in that respect," she said slowly, hating herself for avoiding a direct answer, "I don't know the names of anyone. Don't you remember at all? Doesn't your heart tell you what you desire?" She bit her lip and blushed, it sounded even more ridiculous to say than tot hink.

Jack blushed as well at her last comment as at the word "desire" the most perverse of images came into his mind. Two forms, entangled, and it did not involve a fellow student. He looked down at his lap, and fidgeted with his hands, then cleared his throat. "I have had dreams... about certain people, but I am not sure if they are memories, or wishful thinking. The trouble is, I cannot really ask the person directly about them. It would not be... proper." he said a bit sadly. He had a pretty good idea of how things had been between Severus Snape and himself, but still, he wanted to know more. He wanted to know it ALL. He pushed that from his mind, and decided to ask her another direct question, "Were we ever involved with each other Cho?" he asked, point blank.

Cho smiled despite herself, hoping that her eyes didn't give away some sort of hidden sadness. There shouldn't really have been any sort of sadness to speak of; she was just being ridiculous.

"No," she shook her head, trying to remain settled, "I don't know that I'm you're type."

Jack saw the concern in her face, and then smiled, "I am afraid that now, I don't even know what my "type" is now." he said with a light chuckle. "So now may be your chance," he said with a sly grin and a wink, then offered her a plate with some tarts on it. "Come on, eat something or I will have to commit gluttony to keep the elves happy..." he joked.

My chance, Cho thought somewhat grimly,I don't have a chance, I never did ... but I wouldn't tell you that, would I? "I really can't," she declined with a smile, "I'm a Seeker, you know."

Cho rolled her eyes at herself at those words, No, you wouldn't know, would you? "I shouldn't go in for indulgences," she added weakly.

Jack looked at her, and his expression of smug confidence melted away. She didn't want him, even in this absent minded state of mind when he was so malable. Neither did Blaise, really, from what he could tell. He suddenly felt very defeated inside. Was that why he "belonged" to Severus Snape? No one else would consider, or condescend to be with him? Did he somehow run them off? He didn't want to show how sullen this made him, or how unwanted it made him feel, so he brushed it off. "I am not sure why being a Seeker would prevent you from having a..." he paused, then decided on another word, "Relationship." he said, then shrugged, acting like nothing was troubling him. "But I suppose if you are too busy, or have your reasons, I don't mean to pry." he said quietly, then sipped for a long time from his tea, and took consolation in a scone, and an apple popover.

"Oh Jack," she smiled and shook her head, a little surprised that savvy and poised Jack Grim had misplaced her remark.

He's really not like he used to be.

Cho wasn't quite sure how she should tread with the fifth year, he was in a very vulnerable position; it would be terrible for him to think that there was any reason why she shouldn't like him ... wouldn't it?

She watched him carefully and took another sip of her tea, "I was talking about the scones."

Jack looked up at her, hope sudenly returning to his soul. He grinned, and even blushed the tiniest bit. "You meant the scones..." he chuckled, than shook his head, sending his long hair down into his eyes again. "I am such a prat." he muttered. Perhaps not all was lost? He sipped at his tea again, and couldn't help but chuckle at himself again.

"Just a bit," she winked and looked back at her tea with a smile; Jack was still very endearing.

"Don't worry about it though," she added a moment later, "I'm sure when you're feeling better you'll catch things like that a bit quicker."

I don't know if I want you to though, she added silently.

Jack gave her a warm smile back, then set his tea aside, he was at last getting full. "I hope things start coming back soon... It's quite unnerving having no sense of self..." he said, then glanced out the window at the darkening sky. "Looks like another storm is blowing in from the west." he said. When all else fails, discuss the weather, right?

"There are storms blowing in from everywhere," Cho said lightly, surprising herself by how serious she sounded.

What did she knew of any storms that were approaching? Lately there seemed to be a lot of those, and usually they didn't have much bearing on her life. She had been trying to ignore the one about - she gulped and didn't even think of his name ... but ever since that day, that day when he Jack said his name ... things always seemed to be rather stormy. Cho shook off the uneasy feeling that was associated with that name; she had to focus for Jack's sake.

"It's a little strange for me to see you like this, though undoubtedly not as strange as it feels for you," she added, "you're usually very together, Jack. Calculated, calm, always a few steps ahead of people ... making the first move before people realise you've done it. Hmm."

Jack brightened a bit at that, and sat up straighter, paying more attention now. This was sounding promising. Maybe he hadn't been such a twit before. "Always plotting eh? I do spend a lot of my time scheming. I wasn't sure if it was just because I have so much free time now, or if it just is a passion of mine." he said shifting his position in the chair, trying to get comfortable. He settled at last, then looked over at her with a leer, "Was I always a step ahead of you as well Cho? Or two steps behind?" he asked with a wink of an eye.

She arched her eyebrows at him slightly and was somewhat pleased to find he still had more nerve than anyone else she knew.

"I'd like to say that we were even," she replied with a rueful grin, "I tried to keep up with you, at least, I'm not sure if I managed it very well, though."

Jack nodded to her, "You do very well. Holding your own, that is..." he said with a dangerous grin. "I find talking to you is not tiresome, but intriguing. Very very people I talk with actually CHALLENGE me to think about so much. There is you, and Professor Snape." he said with a tone of admiration for his head of house. "He is the only Professor who is giving me assignments to do. I daresay he has the right idea... I find that continuing my studies is helping me sharpen what mind I have left."

Cho made an active decision to not react out of the ordinary once she had heard that name, but simply nodded.

"Professor Snape isn't one who would willingly let a good Slytherin go to waste," she said, not really knowing if that were true, but assuming that it was, "he's a very strong motivator, uses fear on the students quite well as far as I can tell."

Jack grinned proudly that this person from another House was speaking so well of his mentor, head of house, and... what else? "Does he scare you at all Cho, or is it just the dullards and na'er do wells that cringe from his imposing form?" he asked with a cheeky smile.

Cho grinned, "he motivates me quite well."

Professor Snape had always seemed an imposing figure to her, she wasn't sure if it was fear that motivated her though, the need to please her professors may have been a bit more overwhelming.

"I don't think anyone feels at ease with him, even your fellow Slytherins," she said truthfully, "those of us who haven't angered or annoyed him, and I gather that there a few, we've always known how to do as we're told - so we keep doing it. I always get the impression that he hates imcompetence."

"And laziness, and, disrespect, and Gryffindors...." he added with a smarmy smile. "I have incurred a bit of his wrath since my recovery began, but I think it was done to keep me on my path to knowledge and academic success. I know he favors those who seek to learn more than just the required information. I am one of those types it seems." he said casually. "He brought me a book, a special Potions book, and I recalled it right off." he said proudly, pointing to an exquisite tome of considerable age on a shelf above his bed. It was made of the finest carved and gold embossed leather and looked like it was in immaculate condition considering it's age. "He gave it to me for my birthday, I remembered that much."

Cho let a fake smile linger on her lips; the more Jack spoke of the professor, the more glad she felt that she hadn't yet mentioned anything that happened on Hallowe'en.

It seemed distinctly inappropriate, especially considering the fact that Jack knew about the secret tunnel that led from his dorm to the housemaster's room, that Professor Snape would have given him such a gift, something that could truly be construed as personal and important - Snape was the Potions Master , after all. Of course, Cho considered with relief, he doesn't know about the tunnel now.

"I never knew of Professor Snape's kindness," she finally said, "how admirable of him."

Jack consdiered that for a moment. "I don't think he is a particularly kind man, but he will encourage, and tutor those he deems worthy, and those who show persistance to learn and excel. "I think the book, must have been a reward for something I did in my studies, perhaps a particularly difficult and dangerous potion I was able to brew, or perhaps I even saved someone with a potion..." he mused, fully interested on the topic now. "What do you think Cho? Why do you suppose he gave me such a present?" he asked with a completely innocent look on his face, but in his heart of hearts, knowing what the book contained, he had a real hunch why. A gift of endearment as well as academic reward.

"You always seemed to know quite a lot about Potions," she said, somewhat disappointed that he was so eager to pursue a subject that included Professor Snape, "and there were times you were working on specific projects for the professor, well, I assume there were because there was one time I saw you studying for it - I wasn't allowed to know what it was for, though, and since it seemed rather involved I assumed it happened more than once before."

Cho couldn't avoid the feeling of distaste that had settled inside her, it hardly seemed healthy to be discussing something that might be a danger to him. "As for why he gave you that book," she paused to take in a breath, "your guess is as good as mine."

No, Cho disagreed with herself, mine is better, and I know that there is something very wrong with him giving you that book. Jack smiled at her, and shrugged the topic off, he didn't want to pry anything out of her if she did, know anything about what may or may not have happened between him and the Professor. He got the impression that perhaps she may have an inkling, and it made her nervous. Well, rightfully so. He seemed to be considering something, then his wicked grin returned as he reached for a cube of sugar, and placed it on his tongue, "I am ashamed to say I can't recall what you gave me for my birthday..." he said with an impish grin.

"I never got to give it to you," she said before she could stop herself.

Good grief, she chastised herself, this is getting really typical, isn't it? Cho was about to tell herself off further when Jack's grin forced her to pay attention again.

"We might have been interrupted at the time," she said with a half-shrug, as though it were neither here nor there.

Bravo , she congratulated herself sarcastically and concentrated on keeping a straight face.

Jack grinned wider, and leaned forward, "Well, you can give it to me now... can't you?" he asked with all the wide eyed curiousity of a younger boy than he appeared to be. "I like surprises....." he said, further egging her on. He folded his hand on the table before him, the picture of good behaviour.

"I wouldn't want to spoil you," she said softly in an effort to keep her voice from cracking. Oh yes, I think I would. Cho would have to make a mental note to hex herself later when time permitted.

"How do you know I brought it with me anyway?" she questioned with a slight smile, casting him a dubious glance.

Jack narrowed his gaze as he considered her, then lifted one eyebrow slowly. "Well, if you don't have it with you, you could always give me a kiss instead." he said with a dangerous smile, watching her for her reaction. He could tell she was always so careful about revealing how she felt, and this intrigued him to no end.

It was definitely an interesting turn of events, Cho never anticipated him when he said things like that, he used to do that to her all the time - did he even realise how he used to take her aback?

"Do you want to kiss me?" she asked, thinking the answer would be worthwhile since it seemed highly likely he'd say no; it was just another part of putting her on the back foot.

Jack's grin slowly changed to a simple simple, and looking her dead in the eyes, he said quietly, "Yes, yes I would if you would allow me to." he said, then sliding his chair back, he rose to his feet, and walked over to where she was sitting, and offered her his hand. Gonna jump in shower, pose, back soon. Wanna get clean before CSI starts.

The niggling voice that told Cho to stop when she was attempting a feint on her broomstick sounded exactly like the voice that told her to keep her hands to herself - except she never listened to the anti-feint voice, so why should she listen to this one?

Cho reached up and took his hand, standing up as she did so; he was still a lot taller than she was.

How can you, Cho? the voice was certainly nothing if not persistant, Knowing what you do, it's not right.

Usually time or circumstance stopped her from doing anything particularly stupid, would either of those things stop her now? It seemed impossible that they wouldn't.

Jack continued to hold onto her hand, and then laced his fingers in between hers, and gave it a reassuring squeeze as he gazed into her eyes. "Kiss me Cho. Please." he said, barely above a whisper, then ever so slightly, tilted his head to the side, and moved his face closer to hers. He stopped just before the point of contact, letting her take the final step, if she willed it to be so.

Continued...."

2002-12-12 16:30:00,
Tea with Cho - Part TWO of Two

Cho gingerly put her free hand on his shoulder; she's never been asked by a wizard - like that - to kiss them.

He's a child with no memory - you'll regret it!

There was a good enough challenge as any, and an incredible feeling of desperation and need rushed upon her; when she tilted her head upwards so his lips rested upon hers, she could hardly feel it for her heart was beating very heavily, distracting her from the matter at hand.

Though not entirely.

Think of what everyone will say ... he's only a fifth year, he's a Slytherin.

Jack's eyes were closed, so he flinched ever so slightly when her lips touched his, but he was glad they had. He pressed his tighter to hers, and then parting his slightly, covered her lips with his, lipping at them softly like a horse would with a sugar cube. He sighed softly, a bit of a soft moan in his breathing as he placed his free hand on her waist for balance, then let her make the next move if she wanted to.

Cho felt her knees buckle slightly at the sound that escaped his mouth; that had never happened before.

That's because every other person you've kissed has been appropriate!

She was conscious of him touching her, even more conscious when she realised her free hand had moved from his shoulder and stopped just above his own hand at her side, sliding it downwards. Cho was so concentrated on forcing his hands down that she didn't notice that she'd opened her mouth.

Jack felt her hand on his, seeking to move it downward, to a more serious position on her body. He let her lead his hand down, but he stopped on the side of her thigh, not moving it around to grab her rump, as much as he wanted to. Then he felt her lips part, and with instinct coming from within, he moved his tongue past her lips, and sought out hers. Another soft moan escaped from his chest as he stroked his hand up and down slowly on the outside of her thigh.

There was still a rational thought there somewhere, somewhere ... she couldn't tell where, but there had to be something that held her back - although she could barely tell what it was when the younger wizard's tongue came into contact with her own.

While one hand was following Jack's along her thigh, the one that was still clasped to his other was beginning to feel a little clammy, but rather than freeing herself from his grip she just held on tighter. An automatic reaction compelled her to shift some of her weight from her feet and towards him, and for a moment reason told her that if she put too much weight on him he wouldn't be able to support her since he was standing.

She really couldn't concentrate on that too much after a breathless sound crossed her lips; the noise alone seemed to excite her even more.

Jack shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and felt one hip of his brush against hers as they shifted. He felt her squeeze his hand, and his other hand flexed, making his fingers into claws, and he slowly raked them front to back over the quadracep of her thigh. He had slightly longer finger nails than most boys, so the sensation was different than she might expect. He made a low growly sound, and continued to kiss her deeply, with a soft hunger born of loneliness, and loss of self. He was touching another human for the first time since awakening. It felt warm, it felt right, it felt good. His tongue stroked and traced along hers for a few, exquisite moments more, then he nipped at her lips with his front teeth, and started to pull back.

She was very aware of him pulling her along with him, pulling her closer towards him; it made her breaths come more raggedly, and now instead of them being silent, she could hear herself gasping. Cho couldn't help it when she moaned softly into his mouth, part of her regretted it tremendously because it seemed so trite, but another part of her just wished he'd do the same.

When he started to pull back from her, he didn't want to take this too far, she moaned. He felt his knees go weak, then he was suddenly doing the same, and pressed in for more. His hand clasped at her thigh, and pulled her hand trapped by his up to his waist, where he deposited it, then after leaving her hand on his hip, slid his now free hand around her waist.

The alarm sound in Cho's mind was dimming a little, but it was still there. And as time passed and Cho realised that it wouldn't be much longer before she would start grasping at him (where she had no idea), her own fear of the unknown got the better of her.

He's the unknown ... you don't know what to do ...

And the thing that separated Ravenclaws from other Hogwarts students returned to her: she couldn't go into something so ignorantly, instinct would only take her so far ...

Shrugging her shoulders, as though that would take his lips off her mouth, she tilted her head to the other side in order to break contact. Still with her hands resting upon him, she cast him a sad and apologetic look, hoping that he truly did see that was how she felt, "I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack's eyes fluttered open as she pulled back from him, and he smiled softly at her. He could see the turmoil in her eyes, then came the soft apology. He tilted his head to the side, and blinked slowly, "Don't be. Please. Don't be sorry, don't regret." he whispered, then reached his hand up to touch her cheek softly, then let go of her, and took a step backwards, still keeping his eye on her, waiting.

"I don't think tea was supposed to go like this," she shook her head gravely, trying to catch up her breath without appearing to be as breathless and dishevelled as she felt.

Jack looked at her, and a sudden sadness came over him. He had done something wrong, very wrong. He could feel it, and it make him sick inside. "No, it wasn't. I was wrong Cho. I shouldn't have done that...." he said softly, then turned and walked to the other side of the room to give her space. He made sure he wasn't standing between her and the door. "I'm sorry." he said a moment later, and watched her.

"No," she took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I knew better and I took advantage of you." Cho resisted the urge to just turn around and leave, she'd done that so many times before though - she had to at least try to leave on a good note.

"Jack," she said slowly, hating the fact that admitting anything was heinously difficult and she may as well have just crawled into a hole died, "it would be dishonest of me to say that I never wanted you to kiss me like that before."

He looked at her, sadness showing in his eyes, and he listened to her, hearing the emotion in her voice, the turmoil. "No, you didn't take advantage of me Cho, I wanted it just as much as you did. I NEEDED it. Don't you see?" he asked, then before she could answer him, "You mean, we never kissed before this, but you wanted me to?" he asked, a bit of hope returning to his voice.

"We never did," she confirmed with another shake of her head, "but I wanted you to ... I never told you, but I think you knew anyway." It had never been this easy to admit things like that to Jack before; was she taking advantage of another difference about him? She felt terribly guilty, no matter what he said.

Jack took a step towards her, wanting to comfort her, but then, there was a knock on the door to his room. He shot a panicked look to Cho, then called out in a calm voice. "Yes?" The door opened slowly, and Albus Dumbledore peered inside, a curious expression on his face. "Good afternoon. I just thought I would stop by an see how your tea party was progressing."

"I was actually just on my way out, sir," Cho said brightly, pulling herself together remarkably fast, but casting a questioning glance at Jack which Dumbledore did not fail to miss.

"Indeed, indeed," Dumbledore smiled, if Cho didn't know better (and maybe she didn't) she could have sworn it was done in amusement, "I expect Jack needs to get back to his ...?"

"Studies," Cho replied promptly before Jack could say another word.

"Yes, yes, studies," the professor nodded, twirling the ends of his beard with his fingers, his smile still in place, "we best let him get back to it, he is looking rather flustered by it, hope it's not too much of a strain," he paused and shot a glance between the two of them, "Perhaps you could tutor him one day, Miss Chang?"

Cho's smile dropped slightly as she turned her back on Jack, following the Professor out of the room, "He doesn't need lessons from me, Sir.""

2002-12-15 12:03:00,
Freedom at last

An IC RP with Jack Grim, Severus Snape, and Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't know what to do with Jack now, short of more memory spells, and they were not healthy when used indiscriminately. He would wait until after Christmas... And then think again. But for now, it seemed that Jack would be best going back to face the Slytherin pack already- any further delay being more dangerous than as a precaution. And so he made his way with Severus up fromthe dungeons in silence, and knocked on the door.

Jack was laying in that morning, which had bled into the early afternoon, he was not doing well with the solitude, and while the visits from Blaise and Cho had helped lifted his spirits, he was sinking farther into a depressed state. When the knock came on the door, he merely rolled over on his bed to face the sound, and called out lazily, "Sure, come on in..."

Albus entered first, as was his custom, with the Potions Master skulking in behind. His expression and air were unreadable, controlled- except for the faintest smirk, mixed with a little disgruntlement. He moved to one side of the door and stood there, letting Albus lead.

"Ah Jack, good evening, my dear boy," he smiled, voice cheery. "How are you feeling today?"

Jack scrambled to sit up when he saw who was coming to see him, and he first looked at the Headmaster, then to Snape, then back to Professor Dumbledore when he asked him how he was. "I... I am rather bored Sir, if the truth be told." he said with a sigh. They with a cautious look at Snape, he rose from his bed, and moved toward the door leading to the lavatory, "Pardon me sirs, let me just get dressed proper." he said shyly, then slipped into the side room, closing the door behind him.

"Not at all," Albus said to the already-retreating back, before turning to look at Severus.

Severus who slowly pulled his eyes to the headmaster when he spoke.

"I see you have been keeping him occupied," Albus said, with a head cocked to the stack of books on the slightly cluttered-looking desk.

Snape made no sound, but blinked and looked non-commitally at the older wizard a moment. Eventually he said, "Somebody has to do it." And then returned to his immobile position.

Jack quickly donned some clothes, a shirt, pants, socks and a sweater. He didn't bother with robes of any sort, and after giving his hair a quick brushing, he re-emerged into the room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He looked at the two men, wondering what could be occuring now. Sir? What is going on? he asked silently.

I think he would prefer to tell you, came the silent reply, no visible sign of the communication in the professor's stance or face.

Albus was stroking at his beard thoughtfully. "Mmm bored, you say? Well perhaps we can see to that. Professor Snape and I both feel that you would benefit from a return to schedule... you would be staying in your dormitory with your classmates, and attending classes- though you are to be given consideration when work is set, of course." He didn't turn and look at Snape at this point but the other teacher nevertheless felt the dig,

Jack's face lit up immediately, and he jumped to his feet. "Really? I get to get out of here!" he chirped, then quickly adopted a solemn expression as he looked at the Headmaster, "Not that it isn't a fine room, well apportioned and all Sir. I am very grateful for the hospitality." he said, trying to cover his glee at the prospect of being paroled from the pleasant prison.

Albus' laughter was well-meant and friendly, and he looked over to Snape, old face wrinkled with amusement. "Ah, and you said none of them had manners, Severus!"

A world-weary sigh. "I never said they lacked manners, Headmaster, only that those which they had were bad or rusty from lack of use." He didn't even bother looking at him. Sent a wave of exasperation out, though.

Jack was unable to supress the wide grin on his face, and he moved to the jumble of study supplies on his desk, "Shall I start to gather up my belongings?" he asked, voice alive, and chipper for the first time in a very long time. "Will I be going back to my dorm?" He asked, looking at Snape this time.

"The House Elves will see to that," Severus replied, as he was addressed- not bothering to look to Albus for confirmation. The Headmaster might not stick to protocol but he certainly did. "Yes, you shall be in your dormitory."

Albus nodded his confirmation. "Any further questions, Jack? Or shall we get underway?"

Jack shook his head slowly, still grinning like an idiot, and he took a step towards the two men and the door, then paused, and turned, jumping onto his bed, and collecting a particular book from the shelf, and slipping it under his arm as he jumped down from the bed like a spring lamb. "I want to keep this one with me." he said, then walked over to near where Dumbledore was standing. "I am ready Sir," he smiled.

The Headmaster nodded, and put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "Alright, but you might want to leave that behind- we shall be going for tea, shortly," he suggested.

Snape waited in his customary position for the other two to leave first, moving his hands to his sides.

Jack started to shake his head, and opened his mouth to say something, then looking down at the book offered it to Professor Snape, "Sir, can you please see to this book for me. I value it above anything else I own, and do not want any harm to come to it." he said in a soft, reverent tone as he cautiously looked into the Potion Master's eyes.

Professor Snape didn't move immediately, staring back- and looking for... deceit? Something, anyway, in Jack's eyes before he held out one hand and took the book without looking down to judge distance or see what he was taking. He took it to his side, fingers curled over the spine, and held it cradled to his thigh, nodding once. "I will," he said.

Albus breathed audibly- a half-sigh, and continued trying to guide Jack out of the room he was apparently so eager to get out of. "Hm, I heard they were doing toad in the hole today- last time mine hopped onto Professor Sinistra's hat..." he started relating.

Jack gave Professor Snape a relieved look then turned and followed Professor Dumbledore out of the room and to the Great Hall. He was nervous to be sure, but more relieved to be finally getting out of that bloody room."

2002-12-15 16:06:00,Hello again Draco,"<lj-cut text ="OOC NOTE: If you want to play Draco in THIS game, he needs to be like THIS....">

Draco Malfoy had been asked by his house head to escort Jack Grim back to the dorms after tea- and he did so with bad grace when out of sight. "Well, Mr Part Time Student, this is the Slytherin common room..." he said, as he opened the door, and smirked at the third years who were hanging around. They stopped whispering and skulked off. Draco stopped and folded his arms, waiting for Jack to follow.

Jack immediatly got a bad feeling about this Malfoy boy, and kept his eyes on him for signs of somthing off. It seems something Slytherin was kicking in inside of Jack, and he felt himself suddenly going "on guard". He looked around the Common Room, it looked a bit more familiar to him since his last visit here. Nothing special. He then looked over at Draco, "Part Time, but not by choice Malfoy," he sneered back. "I do have a good excuse for missing the classes I did, and yet I was still keeping up with potions." he said proudly, then narrowed his gaze. "What's YOUR excuse for doing so poorly?" he snarked back. He was only guessing Malfoy would not be as sharp as he was when it came to studies, but he was fairly confident this was not the head student in the house.

"Because I have better things to do with my time and I do well enough without being a brown-nosed little snot," Draco said, cold eyes narrowed a moment, before they relaxed a little. A sly smile. "Come along, Grim, I don't have all day," he said, and walked to the dorms.

Jack smirked at Draco's reply, this was interesting. Open hostility as compared to the evasive answers he had been getting from everyone else. Jack hesitated, "Tell me Malfoy, did we used to be friends or not?" he asked boldly, standing his ground, and looking around the Common Room a bit more, seeing if any memories came to mind.

"Friends? Here?" Draco laughed, an odd sound, and turned around when he sensed he wasn't being followed. He looked carefully. "You really don't remember?" Oh that was just fine- he could use this, if he wanted to. And he did. He leaned against the door lazily, at home here, even if he was only a fifth year. "Grim, we were in the same house, and you were..." he shrugged. "Just another Slytherin like all the rest."

Jack stared deep into Draco's eyes, and thought. "Just another Slytherin?" he repeated. "I doubt that..." he said in a low tone, watching Draco closely, reading body language, and other subtle signals. After a moment, he shrugged it off, and set to following Draco, "I suppose that is what you say now. " he smirked, and then chuckled under his breath, but just loud enough for Draco to hear.

Draco looked unimpressed. "You will soon find out, one way or another, Grim. Slytherin House... well, shall we say that there are some in here whose blood is better than others... and some who hold more... sway..." Nose in the air, he sneered imperiously. "Now you shall follow me, if you want to know where your bed is. But if you don't intend on seeing it anyway..." he slinked out lithely, not letting Jack have a reply unless he yelled or followed.

Jack followed Draco, still amused, and called after him, "I suppose that is a GOOD thing then, both you and I being of the Better Blood." he grinned, and then looked around the Dorm as they entered. He could smell scents in the room that were familiar, and some how soothing. He took them all in, and stored them away for later. He walked over to his bed, and smoothed his hand over the coverlet. He then looked over at Draco, "Just what do you mean by 'If I don't intend on seeing my bed?'" he asked with a narrowed gaze.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You might not be from the gutter, Grim, but that means nothing." No, just look at the Weasels. Draco's father had brought him up Well. He moved to lean against the post of Jack's bed, invading his space. "Well, you seem to be one for sleep-walking, or perhaps you dislike our company so much..." he shrugged. "I have better things to worry about."

"Sleepwalking was it?" he said with a knowing grin. "Perhaps. I don't recall you see." he said with a smirk, "As for not liking your company, what's not to like about a well bred young man such as yourself?" he said, then stepped up and stood, arms crossed over his chest right in front of Draco. Something was coming back to him, on the fringe of his memory. Something about Draco...

Draco wouldn't be intimidated- if not by his father, then surely not by some upstart who didn't even know who he was. He looked bored. "Whatever. I really couldn't care less." He looked at Jack as though he was something his owl had coughed up. "And perhaps you just didn't have any taste whatsoever..." Looked past him, stood up, and walked past, brushing into him as he did. He sauntered out, and off, to more interesting targets.

Jack laughed darkly as Draco brushed past him, and let the room. Jack looked back over at his bed, and saw that all of his things were back in place on shelves, and in his trunk at the foot of his bed. He picked up his journal and began to thumb through it. The pages were all blank, but he had a feeling that was accomplished magickally for security reasons. He flipped through the book, and tried to recall the revealing spell. Later, as he sat on his bed, alone in the dorms, he snorted, and cursed under this breath. Nothing he called out when tapping the book with his wand was working. If he didn't recall the spell, or password, he might never be able to read his previous thoughts. That was quite disturbing to him. He decided to stay there and work on it until solved, he wanted SOMETHING to give him straight answers for a change."

2002-12-15 18:39:00,Success at last.,"I am now, again writing in my trusty journal. As I had laid on my bed, frustrated from numerous attempts, I had shoved it aside and was just fuming over it. Then, I laid back and moved my mind to something else, and it came to me. The password. I uttered it, and the pages filled before my eyes. I apparently am quite clever, or paranoid, or a bit of both to do such a thing to a journal.

I skimmed over it, I sure liked to write, and copious amounts of rambling as well, it seemed. I am adding this entry now, and will read more of the past later. Will this be a good thing? I am not so sure. Perhaps I should ask Professor Snape?

He still vexes me. He reminds me of a bird of prey, watching, hungry, waiting to strike. I wonder when he will? Speaking of hungry, it is dinner time, Draco, darling that he is, poked his head in to give me a surly call to dinner. I suppose Snape has set him to keep me in a routine until I prove I can function on my own. I can function just fine, thank you. I just don't remember a whole lot.

That will change when I set to reading this journal of mine. Well, dinner time now. More later perhaps."

2002-12-15 22:43:00,HOUSE ELF NOTE to Cho Chang,"Hello Cho, I just wanted to send you a short note to say, Thank you for coming to see me. It was very nice, expecially... well, you know what I mean.

I will be back in classes tomorrow. They actually let me eat in the Great Hall tonight. Did you see all the stares in my direction? I am certainly infamous for something. Draco Malfoy is an annoying little git, but I have the feeling you know that.

In any case, please be well,

Jack Grim"

2002-12-16 12:46:00,Monday studies.,"Well, I haven't had much time for reading of my journal. I was sent lists of things I missed last night by all of my teachers, Snape included, and spent most of the evening doing some review work, and trying to recall things. I sent a note to Cho Chang, she is sure nice.

This mornings classes went well enough. Less stares at me in the Great Hall this morning and at dinner. I just want to be ignored, by most people anyway, and allowed to get on with my life. Why all of a sudden, does that sentiment seem so familiar.

Ah well, time for the afternoon classes. More later perhaps."

2002-12-17 08:43:00,Return to Potions...,"<Lj-cut text="Tuesday Gromit, Potions on Tuesday....">

Jack left Slytherin House with a group of his peers. No one was making an effort to engage him in any conversation, nor was he being cajoled or harassed in any way. He was just invisible it seemed. That was fine with him. He had enough on his mind as it was. Today was the first class in Potions since his illness, and he had the feeling we would be watched by many eyes, two in particular this morning. He arrived at the class, ten minutes early with about half of his house. He stood for a moment, letting them settle into their seats while he scanned the rows for a likely place to sit.

Jack left Slytherin House with a group of his peers. No one was making an effort to engage him in any conversation, nor was he being cajoled or harassed in any way. He was just invisible it seemed. That was fine with him. He had enough on his mind as it was. Today was the first class in Potions since his illness, and he had the feeling we would be watched by many eyes, two in particular this morning. He arrived at the class, ten minutes early with about half of his house. He stood for a moment, letting them settle into their seats while he scanned the rows for a likely place to sit.

Jack had lingered until a nudge and a point from Blaise had directed him to a chair on one side of Draco Malfoy, while on the other side sat his twin golem toadies. They shared a half a brain between them he guessed, at the best. When Professor Snape entered, he fixed his eyes on him, face calm, mind open. He remained silent on all channels and watched to see what would happen next. He was sure he was the only bundle of nerves in the room that morning.

Severus Snape glid slowly to the front of the room, talking as he went. "Today you are going to review Mutating Potions, as your last attempt was so unbelievably atrocious that you will struggle to do worse- though perhaps not knowing you. This will leave you behind on the syllabus, but there is nothing I can do about that..." he stopped, in a slight flurry, hands together on his stomach. "Any questions?"

Jack silently shook his head, not bothering to look to the side to see how his classmates were reacting. Once the instructions had been given, he set about to opening his books and pulling out supplies and only once this was done, did he look around to see if he was being partnered up with anyone. Judging on how no one was looking his way, and the fact Malfoy and company were all cramped around a single cauldron, backs turned to him; not likely. He made a snorting sound, and set about to preparing his potion on his own.

A few of the Slytherins and Gryffindors were slow to start but snapping quickly set them to rights. Honestly. It was just a simple formula that required some titration was all! Did they have NO brains? He sat down in his chair at his desk, resigned to the future generations of imbeciles people seemed so intent on breeding. What a pointless waste of food and air. He watched, intently, as some acidic ingredients were used, and did not relax his vigil until all was put away. Then, then he let his mind and thoughts wander more.

Jack was all consumed in his preparations. This was one of the potions he remembered for some reason, and had reviewed while incarcerated. He felt fairly secure in preparing it on his own, and as he glanced around at the pairs of students, he realized he would have to be quicker than they, for he would have to prepare and brew all on his own. That was just fine with him. No one to muss up the works then. He set to cutting up plants, and bits of small creatures and setting them into neat piles for inventory before adding them into the cauldron. When this step was completed, he chanced at glance up at the desk at the front of the classroom, and a shudder ran up his spine. He wasn't sure why.

All this effort Snape put in and was it appreciated? Was it heck as like! Did they have any idea how he had structured these lessons, dumbed them down to the lowest possible level and STILL he couldn't get a single thing through their thick skulls! Frustrated, he swung one foot, and looked up. Well. Not everyone failed. He watched Jack work with the single-minded determination he knew all too well and couldn't help but feel slightly proud. He was fairly certain he had not been like this when he had arrived- could recall him not working so hard at the beginning of the year. So perhaps he wasn't so useless a teacher after all. He let a small smirk play on his lips.

Jack saw the gaze wash over him when Snape looked his way, he gave a polite nod, then looked back down at his work. The rest of the class was working quietly so he ventured a tentative communique. Was I always set to work alone in class Sir? Not that I am complaining. I think, I prefer it this way. No dullards messing up the potion, too many cooks and all... he mused while adding his herbs and powders to the cauldron, now suitably warmed.

Snape was not too surprised to be addressed, in fact, he was half-expecting, maybe even waiting for it. Gave him something better to do with his time than just sit. He could do so much at once if only they let him! But they rarely DID... You were never set to work alone. Though I recall when I did not assign partners that you and the Malfoy spawn would invariably gravitate... He pickedup a quill and stared down at the paper, not feeling like working right now.

He's a conceited git. I have had enough of him, for now, he mused. I sense something between he and I in the past. I am not sure to what level, but I am sure it is in my journal. I have recalled the spellword to reveal the writings to me, I plan to read up on my past, as my own hand later this evening, he thought as he added water next, and gave the cauldron a stir.

Like father like son... the Potions Master thought, remembering Lucius with all too painful clarity. "LONGBOTTOM! Please do not burn the bench... Thank you..." He sat back again, fuming, thought disrupted. Paused, and calmed a little. Oh, you have been keeping a journal? Snape sounded mildly interested.

Jack turned to look over at the mishap and small fire on the Gryffindor side of the room, then quickly resumed his task at hand. Yes, I seem to have started this volume sometime during the summer, and enchanted it to wipe clean when I finished an entry. I have only skimmed it, but plan to study it well, when I am not busy with my schoolwork, he added, so that the Professor would know he would not be substituting one thing for the other.

Don't tell me A-- the Headmaster suggested it, hm? I suppose you wouldn't know... It sounded like another of Albus' brilliant ideas, like that play he was so adamant on producing. Snape wasn't sure if finding out that way would be a good thing or not, but decideed there wasn't much to be said. I suppose it is one way to lear who you were.

Jack didn't answer to that right away. He was busy with his potion, and once he had added the final ingredients, just behind most of the class he noted with a superior little smirk, he set back to let it simmer and wait for the result. He then, gave a casual glance to the professor. I am interested, and at the same time, afraid of what it contains. Am I so different now that reading that would only sadden me more? I wonder if I am better off starting anew, from what I know now, he thought, then leaned forward to check his potion, then glanced to his side when Malfoy went into an angry rant directed at his cohorts who had mussed the potion somehow. "Even that idiot Grim with half his mind is sharper than the two of you!" he spat. Jack didn't look over, he just calmly minded his cauldron.

Snape had to get up and walk about at this point, making his usual rounds, despairing when he saw how little improvement had been made. Morale had been even lower than normal ever since he had told them they would need to redo the last class. It was their own fault, however. The repky was slow- as though slightly distanced, and preoccupied. Hmm. Perhaps. The past is a funny thing, Grim. And no one ever fully likes what happened there. Perhaps it would sadden you, perhaps not, but it is what forged us... He lingered at the back of the room, watching as the couples- or groups- slowly started to finish.

Jack checked his potion, and called out, silently, I think mine is complete Sir, shall I say something aloud? he queried then put aside his thoughts of the journal. He looked around the room, and more and more people seemed to be ready as well. Something inside him wanted to be first, so before Snape replied, he put his hand up into the air.

Snape was just mentally taking a breath to speak when he saw Jack's arm go up in a blur. He blinked a moment. "Yes, Grim?" he asked. One usually waits for the response to a question... he thought, a little tetchily. He swept to the front of the room, and turned to face the class.

Jack inwardly sighed, and taking in a deep breath, he spoke quietly, but in a confident voice. "I am finished Sir," he announced, and was surprised at the low chorus of groans and undervoiced hisses that came from his back and to his side. He did not outwardly react, but focused his anger inward, and kept his eyes on Snape.

Snape's gaze didn't shift either. Are you determined to make them all hate you? he asked, but thought that he really wasn't the first to cast stones about. Outwardly he seemed indifferent. "Very good. You may start clearing up until the others are finished," he said, and then turned his back on the class.

Jack stood there, shell-shocked to say the least, I thought you wanted me to excel at my studies? he replied, hurt sounding in his mind, What's the bloody point of doing well if I am to be shunned for it? he growled silently, then with a sullen snort, he set about clearing away his supplies, and replacing his things into his book bag until all that remained out on his table was his cauldron full of the potion. He sat back and stared at it accusingly, shutting out all that was going on around him.

Because, Snape replied with forced patience and care, a little faster than one syllable at a time, Not everyone appreciates a job well done. Oh boy, now there was resentment there. SOME people don't appreciate due care and attention and SOME people get jealous when they see someone better than them and SOME people... he shook his head and walked into the store room, ostensibly to fetch something. You are going the right way to isolate yourself, he said. Talk about pot calling kettle. But if that is what you want, so be it. Oh yes, Severus Snape giving lessons on how to Fit In! The irony was killing him.

There was a long pause, then Jack sent a question, But you do, don't you? You appreciate due care, and skill. Hang them all then. I only care for your approval, he sent, then sat and waited to see what would come next.

There was a long silence. Did he? Or did he only care for his own? He would have liked to have THOUGHT he did... I try, he said, at length. But what Jack was saying... sounded dangerous. Something all too familiar. Grim... Much as I am in agreement with you that my opinion is more important than anyone elses... the slightest hint of wry humour, One cannot ignore other people entirely... it is... dangerous. For more reasons than he thought he even realised himself.

Understood Sir, Jack replied after a moment, then glanced around the room again. Most of the students were now finished with their potions, and were looking around the room apprehensively, waiting for Snape's return and the verdict on their creations. More are ready now, he sent as a courtesy to the Potions Master, But I know you shall come at your leisure, he added, smirking to himself.

Ready as they will ever be. I despair, I truly do... came the mental commentary, all overblown tragic air. The old-school thespian. He reentered the room and looked around at the students sitting waiting for him. He droned in a bored tone, one well-aware of his own superiority. "Right then which failed attempts shall you show me today?" he asked.

Jack was leaning on his desk, his chin resting in his hand and he watched those around him. He did not raise his hand this time around. Snape knew he was finished, and he felt confident his potion was perfect, but the moment to show off, to him, to everyone that he was viable had passed. He sat there quietly, watching what would unfold next with bored detachment.

Hermione Granger put up her hand as usual. It was something of a routine. It didn't surprise the Potions Master in the slightest. He knew in advance who would and would not have made a semi-decent draught. Bored of trying to teach the unteachable anything- and not feeling decidedly vindictive towards anyone in particular, he decided that everyone would test their potions and that this class would constitue part of the final grade. He told them as much, an sent two of the more simpering Slytherin to fetch some lead weights. He knew in advance who would and would not have been able to finish the potion- but a little public humiliation never went amiss. "Dip and hold for no more than fifteen seconds..." he instructed. "And mind to keep it all immersed."

Jack looked back at the surly look given to him by his house mate as he was dealt a weight, and returned and feral looking glare, complete with a soft snarl. He looked at the weight sitting on his desk for a moment assessing it almost, then with nimble fingers he picked it up, and then immersed it into the potion, One, two, three... he counted mentally to himself, not intending to broadcast the count to anyone in particular. He glanced over at Draco and Co., and snickered when Crabbed dropped the weight comlpletely into the potion, and Draco swore aloud, forcing Goyle to fetch it out. But then, the time was up, and he lifted his weight back up to view, assessing the success of his potion.

Snape sent a semi-irritated complaint about the inability of some people to count without moving their lips, but not too loudly in case he disturbed Jack. And then he realised he shouldn't care if he did disturb him or not and snorted. Some of the students were pulling out pieces of lead- sole looked molten, some were stringy messes, and a very few were holding what looked like hair.

Jack looked at the hank of hair in this fingers, and made a face of disgust. "Lead to Hair... now THERE'S a helpful sort of potion," he muttered, then set the hank of hair onto the desk for inspection by the Professor.

Severus Snape walked up and down the Gryffindor side first, and pointed out to each individual person what exactly had gone wrong, in detail, how easy it was, and how stupid they were. He then made his way along the Slytherins, starting with the worst, and working a slightly circuitous route through his Slytherins. He rumbled something too low for the others to hear at Draco, who blanched, but hid it well. Snape didn't care. He gave some of his 'praise' to another student who had performed slightly better than usual and tried not to show too much surprise, though he doubted his approval would mean much to them. When he passed Blaise he barely even looked at her and just commented over her head. Eventually he got to Jack. "You might want to see if you can include the bleaching agent in advance next time," he suggested, looking first at the hair, and then at Jack. All the substances (save one Gryffindor's) that had been produced had been black or grey.

Jack watched Snape as he passed by and assessed his work. He nodded, and then began the task of cleaning the cauldron, and putting it away. When may I have my Birthday book back, Sir? he asked idly as he wiped out his cauldron with a damp rag after dumping the contents into a sink.

Snape went back to the front of the class. He felt exhausted even if he had done nothing particularly taxing- this was just draining. And draining. And draining. His hair was in his face but he wasn't particularly bothered at this point. He seemed to be thinking, though, after hearing Jack's question. You remember your birthday? he asked. A slight hrrm. You may have it today if you wish. Do you wish to collect it or for it to be delivered? he asked.

Jack thought on that as he reduced his cauldron to pcoket size, then put it into his bookbag. He could not understand why more students weren't doing that. Oh well, such was their loss. My Birthday.... he mused. There was a long pause, and then a dejected reply, No, I am afraid I do not. I cannot recall even the day it falls on, he confessed, then addressed the question about his book with a bit more enthusiasm, IF it will not trouble you Sir, I would prefer to have it set into my hands personally, and not entrusted to a House Elf or other person.

Hallowe'en, was the immediate response. Snape had had the question-answer reflex burned into him long before he had learned to curb his tongue on occasion and weigh up the advantages and disadvantages to any situation as obsessively as now he did. It was nothing, he added. Then thought. The bell rang, and he glared at his students who had finished clearing up and were waiting impatiently as if to ask why they had not gone already. One final sneer at Longbottom's back and he turned his head in disgust. I do not see why a mutually convenient time cannot be arranged. I have no plans this evening.

Jack left the classroom with the rest of his house, another class then dinner, he was already starving. I take it something special occured on my birthday... he thought, then addressed the other comment, I can come to your office after supper Sir, will that suffice? he asked as he exited the room, trading shoulder shoves with Crabbe and Malfoy, Crabbe coming out the worse as he was sent hard into a statue with a dull grunt.

Snape sounded rather distant at first. Oh. Nothing worth remembering, he thought back- clearly not focussing on that subject at all. He'd rather ignore it actually. He seemed more interested in the second point actually. It is settled, then. And Grim? Please do not fight amongst yourselves in public, especially outside of my class... Slytherin affairs are... private. Say what you will, he had a very effective radar for misbehaviour.

Sorry Sir. I shall pummel them in the Privacy of the Common Room Hallways... he replied with just a hint of amusement. I shall speak to no one of my plans for the evening as well, he added, then moved quickly along the hallways to his next class.

Don't leave a mess either, came the response, with the very definite air of 'I will have the final word, thank you. Snape looked up at the clock. Only another... god... how many hours left in the day?"

2002-12-17 18:40:00,
Apres Diner with Snape..

Snape was sitting at his desk, staring at the oil lamp. Well, not directly at the flame because he valued his eyes and had to do a lot of reading- but just above, at the haze there. He had the bizarre urge to stick his hand into the flame and see how long he could hold it there. There was something uniquely captivating about fire- he could see why moths would kill themselves for it. But no, for now, he would just sit, captivated, and ignoring time. He didn't like time very much at all.

Jack stood outside of the door to Snape's classroom, and couldn't for life of him figure out why his heart was pounding so fast. He was just going to retrieve a book, right? Taking a deep, clearing breath, he stepped over the portal, forgetting that he had once known about the wards in place. He crossed the large cavernout classroom, and then made his way to the door leading to Snape's office. He paused, and tried a mental knock. He still found this a novel and clever way to communicate. I am here Sir.

"I heard you a mile off. Are you just going to be a shadow or do you intend on coming in?" Snape liked to switch back and forth. It kept him on his toes. As well as finding it amusing to think how half a conversation must sound to anyone if they every caught some. He continued looking through the lamp, and the dual distortion of glass and flame- through to the doorway beyond. He seemed fairly relaxed- for him.

Jack snorted, rolled his eyes, an involuntary action, he did it like breathing, without realizing it. He pushed the door open and entered the office, looking around and finding much of it familiar as he closed the door behind him slowly, hearing it click solidly. "Good evening Sir," he said in a soft tone, then stood before the large desk, looking around the room, and it's odd collection of items.

The Potion Master's office was probably the most uniquely idiosyncratic of any teacher save perhaps the Headmaster. Tools of his trade were neatly piled and stored- and here in his office were some of the most outre and unusual of items. Take the professor himself. He seemed to melt into his chair- it was as straight-backed as he was, and looked made for him or vice versa. He wore a slight- almost invisible smirk- and slowly lifted up the old, heavy tome in question from where it must have been lying on his lap or knee, and held it up in two hands. "Good evening. I believe you came looking for something?"

Jack's gaze was drawn to Snape's at that statement, and he found himself staring into those dark, bottomless looking eyes. He took the steps needed to close the distance between him and the Professor, and then with a nod of his head, reached for the book with both hands. "Yes, thank you Sir, I was longing to read more from it," he said with a sly smile, "I mean, once my studies were completed, of course," he added, the smile becoming a smirk, and he froze as his fingertips brushed the back of the hands handing them the book. Electricity shot through him, and he froze. Something, on the verge of his memory was trying to get through.

"Of course," he echoed, a second after, not blinking once. Snape's eyes were somewhat akin to those of the mascot of his house, or a very hungry bird. "I am..... glad you... appreciate it..." The pauses wrung the words from him, and he couldn't say them without the slightest hint of mockery, but that was an ever-present feature of his speech. Snape released his grip so the edge of the book was resting on his open hands, but didn't pull them back for now, until the book was taken from him. His expression was completely unreadable, frozen in place, but he canted his head slightly, questioning. He bit his lower lip slightly, lost in thought.

Jack stood there, a bird before a cobra, frozen in place, until he was forced to blink, and then pulled the book toward him, cradling it up and against his chest like armor. He mimicked the motion, of biting his lower lip. He could feel the tension, in the room, between him and Snape, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Perhaps he would? Perhaps he would have to? Is there anything I can do for you Sir? he asked in a quiet mental tone. He lowered his eyes and looked down at the top of the desk, and all the things neatly arranged there.

Snape laughed a little. A shallow sound, an almost-whuff, rather than a snort or a belly-laugh. He was much too in control of his expression for that. Oh, you are a one, aren't you? he thought, amused. Hm, what could I possibly want... Let me see... You can't make my students bright- no one can. You can't make Christmas go away- same reason. I doubt you could Put the World to Rights... So what is there you could possibly do for me? His smirk was downright painful, but he was enjoying this far too much. Yes, was it surprising he had a sadistic streak?

Jack slowly looked up from under his fringe, meeting Snape's gaze again with one of his own. His heart was pounding and his palms were getting sweaty, but he still maintained a deathgrip on the book in his hands while he sent a reply, Satisfy you, he said simply, then a beat later, just to be crystal clear, I want you to show me just WHY I wear this serpent around my neck, I am not feeling up to reading into the wee smalls tonight...

Snape's black eyes literally burned- somewhere beneath the surface. He didn't look away in the slightest, but the smirk was now a dangerous grin- one that probably hid sharp teeth, too. His nostrils were flaring a little more than usual- perhaps he was breathing deeper, or perhaps it was just due to proximity and the tricks the mind could play. His thought-voice was decidedly... silky? For want of a better word... You would have me show you all that in one night? Quite the Taskmaster, aren't we, Master Grim... He sat back in his seat- unaware of ever sitting forwards at all, and folded his hands on his chest. You will not be able to see much from that side, he suggested, positively leering.

Jack swallowed down a breath that would not go of it's own accord, and with careful measured movements, he set the treasured book down on the seat of the chair before the massive desk. Then with his empty hands at his sides, he walked slowly over to stand beside Snape as he sat in his chair. Once he was standing there, he looked out at the room, not to the side at the man in the chair, holding court over the room, over him. Is this position better for viewing? he inquired, then swallowed again, his heart was fairly leaping out of his chest, or at least it felt as such.

Almost, Snape conceeded grudgingly. But you are not the right height there. He half-turned his head, and swivelled his eyes to the side to fix them on Jack. Do you see that in front of you? he asked, meaning his desk. It is who I am. What I do... Or part of it... His eyes were now half-closed, but still intent. Perhaps you would like a closer look... at the two...

A tenseness stirred in Jack's gut, at the same moment something stirred just south of there. He gazed at the expansive top of the desk, and swallowed again. Not the right height? he mused, then he considered the second comment, an offer to be sure, one that made his breath catch in his constricted throat, and a light sweat break out along his spine. Yes.... Master? he answered, with a bit of question at the end of the odd, powerful, but familiar sounding honorific.

Snape stood up, slowly. He had to, considering. He was slightly taller than Jack- but then he was rather a tall man. There was an almost-hum rumbling somewhere down in his chest, reverberating and resounding until he thought it would deafen all of Hogwarts. But that was silly. Still. He hovered one hand over the hip furthest from him, brushing lightly as he guided him more central in relation to the desk.Which, as it turned out, had him standing directly in front of him. Oh he hadn't thought about that in the slightest. "As you wish," he said, aloud, deliberately close to one ear, and waved his other hand in front of him, inhaling deeply. He was almost, but not quite, counting down the time it would take him to snap. He knew he could predict the moment right down to the second. Could feel one kind of control slipping away, and another... more intoxicating... rising to take its place. Too bloody long.

Jack opened his mouth and closed his eyes at the same moment when he felt Snape rise up behind him, then guide him to stand centered behind his desk, with himself centered behind him. Gulp. Swallow. Before he even thought about it, he was moving his left hand up and laid it on the back of his House Head's hand, and pressed inward, holding hand to hand to hip. He sighed at the touch, noting the cool, dry feeling of the larger hand, and how warm his hand felt against it. Will this position suit better, Sir? he ventured, trying to will his heart to slow down, just a bit before he dropped over from the rapidity of it's rhythm. He felt fingers lace with his, and clamp down.

For now... came the response, but that seemed to be about as verbally forthcoming as he was prepared to be for now. He used the hand at Jack's hip to pull him back against himself, slightly, the fingertips of the other lightly stroking up along his ribs at one side. He pushed his nose up against the nape of Jack's neck, and upwards, into slightly damp hair, his lips rubbing dryly against skin. For a moment he was happy to explore, to meet the flesh he'd collared again, but he knew that wouldn't last long as he tilted his hips forwards slightly, and decided enough was enough. He took Jack's neck in his mouth- sideways and with difficulty, as he shoved him violently forwards, following himself. Mine. You have that snake because you belong to me, he thought, in a posessive wave.

Jack sighed aloud as he was pulled back slowly against the tall imposing form behind him. A shudder, a delicous one, and another swallow. His eyes were still closed, although he was not sure why. Then he felt the tip of a nose plowing up through his hair, and he moaned softly. So wrong. His mind was screaming this was so wrong, but it if was, why was he hard as a rock and trembling with wanton desire? Suddenly, the bite came, a claiming bite, and it sent a shock of electricity throughout his entire body and soul. Before he had a chance to react to the animal and carnal insticts it drew out of him, he was shoved down, forward, and pressed to the hardness of the desktop with a heavy, and firm body from behind. He whimpered at the sudden compression, then heard the dark explanation in his mind, and his twisted in reply, slipped into a space long forgotten. Yours.... yes.... I ... belong to you.... Master.... he thought. It was instinct, gospel, the truth beyond all others. And... now you shall have me....

When Snape flipped, he flipped. But this was channelled, focussed... almost a... safe outlet? God he wasn't bothered about those kinds of ins and outs right about now. He was much too lost in a cloud that held nothing other than sounds, smells, touches, taste, warmth and need. How long had he been waiting? It felt like forever- but now... now he had his toy back and he was damned if he was letting go. Which was why he gripped Jack's hips for dear life, digging his overlong nails in, scratching at fabric that had no bloody right to be there. He was the only thing that was allowed to touch him. Nobody and nothing else. Conflicting desires had him in a little bit of trouble as he simultaneously tried to shove Jack down, pull him up against himself and drag off his clothes all at once. Which wasn't all that easy a task, when you thought about it. His tongue and teeth were currently trying to map every square inch of exposed skin and expose as much more as he could. Eventually it got through to him that he was going to have to prioritise really, and he freed up his hands for long enough to tear at the robes and shirt Jack was wearing and pull them off his back. Stopping, of course, for a quick grab of his backside, but he didn't think anyone would blame him.

There was no time to react to any of what was happening. Hands were on him, touching him, all over, everywhere. He felt the dangerous level of want coming from the other man, and could see it in the unorganized way he was moving, trying to do things. "Master...." he whispered, then was silenced by his overrobe being lifted off of him, and nearly strangling him as the clasp remained closed. He made a soft choking sound, but then the robe was gone, and his sweater followed, then buttons flew as his shirt was stripped off of him. He was panting even though he wasn't the one exerting himself. There was a pause in the unwrapping of him, and he opened his mouth again, to offer a suggestion, perhaps help, then his backside was gripped, again posessively. Something inside caused him to worry, would he survive this? He felt as though he was going to not only be shagged (most likely) but ripped from adam's apple to asshole and devoured (quite likely). Master, I can help if you like.... he ventured silently, not sure if it would be heard or not or even acknowledged if it was.

Severus Snape did not accept people's help at the best -or, more correctly speaking, worst- of times. His pride was too busy getting in the way of everything. Almost everything. Pride of self had rather decided to stand in a corner and look busy as he clambered over the youth pinned beneath him, finally getting his top half free at least. Thoughts vaguely registered in his mind, but that side of him had been safely filed, and his only, gruff, response was, You can help by holding the edge and staying still a minute. With one hand he angled Jack's hips upwards, the other slipping between him and the desk to start work (rather clumsily, from this angle) on buttons and zips. Damned things that they were. People had no right going around wearing them. Which vaguely reminded him of the fact that, seeing as how things were proceeding, he was vastly overdressed, and he worse even more buttons than Jack did. Bugger. Or not yet, being the point.

Jack made an acknowledging sound as he was jerked around and stripped like a pirate's captive, and just went into a quiet, accomodating stature. He leaned forward, pressing his hips out and back from the desk, and clamped his hands onto the edge. He for no reason in particular noted just how thick the top of the desk was, how smooth the wood of the edge, but did not feel worn. He reclosed his eyes, not sure when he had opened them, and felt the trembling, yet deft hands at his waist, unfastening and pulling aside, and down his trousers. He shivered, partially from the cold, more from other causes.

Snape made a mental- and possibly audible- sound of relief when he finally started hitching Jack's pants down, and he could touch bare skin. That was... so much better he couldn't begin to describe. He knew full well he shouldn't leave any visible marks- not just because certain uppity Gryffindors had warned him against it, but because- well, common sense. But that didn't stop him attacking Jack's jaw. His hands now cleared of one duty, he let them roam again, over broad shoulders and back as he brought himself further up onto the desk, sliding one knee between the youth's legs, spreading him slightly wider, and nudging it up against him. Paused, for a moment. Now... he purred, half-lucidly. This is how I want you... you were suggesssting something?

Jack moaned and made little whimpers as he was nipped at and outright bitten all around his jawline and under his ear. He gave up trying to speak, he just felt, and surrendered to it all. Yes... more.... was the only reply he sent, he was beyond trying to suggest anything at this point. The Professor seemed to have it all as well as him in hand. Hands poured over him, and he pressed back against the yards of robe behind him, and made a soft whimpering sound. I want to be like this for you... for so long I have... We belong like this... I know it now... he proclaimed. Damn them for keeping me from you! he railed. But no more. Never again. Like this... forever... he swore silently, a vow.

I will never let anyone take you, Snape hissed, mentally, as he slid his way down along the prostate body beneath him, dragging nails in, and none too gentle. Will never let anyone take you away again. He was still standing on the floor but he wasn't all that aware of his legs. There wasn't that much blood in them right now. Cold hands held warm cheeks apart as he slid his tongue down from the small of Jack's back between his legs, tasting, and testing his territory- growling deep in his chest as he did. Don't you ever dare change.

Jack was sending only mental agreements, he did not dare to attempt to speak. He laid there, relaxed, but anxious, waiting for what would come next. He was certain he knew, but he had forgotten all the intricacies of it, how it felt. When he felt himself gripped, and parted, then a tongue tracing along the most delicate parts of him, he cried out, then turned his head to the side, biting down on his forearm. No, I will not do that... Master... I want it to be just like this, forever, he replied, body trembling under the seductive touches.

The thought of perpetual coitus was enough to amuse the already none-too stable professor, and he rubbed his nose between parted cheeks to hide it a minute, before he slid his tongue back out, licking at thighs and tasting the slightly salty tang- and Jack's own, particular taste which was busy filling his nostrils- before teasing with the very tip. God but he wanted to bury himself in so deep they would never be able to dig him out. Shhh I know... stop thinking... he ordered, a little gruffly, then looked about the desk and the immediate area a little muzzily, wondering if he had anything suitable to hand or if he'd have to find his wand. Ah yes, there it was... he leaned over and picked up a small jar and tried to open it one-handed and unfasten his own pants at the same time. Which would be fine if he was ambidextrous (he was close, potions college made you such) or was using his right hand on his pants. So he swapped over, grumbling at his own stupidity.

Jack made a long sigh through his nose as he was explored, touched, and made to feel adored. He didn't realize how much he had missed his. How could he have forgotten this? It was unthinkable. When he was told to stop thinking, he returned a contented moan, then a moment later felt activity, hurried and clumsy behind him. Still gripping the edge of the desk ahead of him, he turned to look back over his shoulder at Snape, and what he was doing. An amused smile slowly crossed his face, then he turned to face front again. Deep breath in, deep breath slowly let out. Relax. He recalled that much.

Snape eventually managed to unfasten his pants- and god didn't he feel rather a bit of an idiot for that, but what was there to say? He also managed to flip the lid to the jar which had jammed shut, the substance hardened over the edges from not being cleaned properly. He cursed whoever had done that- but only briefly as he scooped some of the viscous, clear goo out. It smelt vaguely of elderberries, but nothing in life was perfect. Some things came closer than others, though. He spread the salve over himself, not reacting at the coldness of it against possibly the only part of his body that was remotely warmer (too long accustomed to the cold) and made a little grunt of approval when he was finished. Put the jar down and lined himself up again. He wondered for a moment what would be easiest for him, and easiest on him. God why did he have to be so backward and not pick comfortable places? Oh well. What was done was done.

Jack could feel the motions, and movement behind him, he heard Snape suck in a breath, then let out a soft moaning sigh. He closed his eyes, and tried to still his own breathing, which he noticed now was almost as quick as his heart. Then he felt Snape lean in close, pressing against him, ready to take him. Jack let out a gasp at the sensation, and tried not to tense, to react, to resist. He did not want to do that above anything else. Some part of him however, wanted to resist, but why?

Well, if he found it too uncomfortable, Snape reckoned he could always move about. Not that, if he thought about it, he would be able to stop, once started, even if someone kneecapped him and even hamstrung him. Oh well nothing that couldn't be cured or patched together again somehow. He tugged on one calf, urging Jack backwards so he wouldn't have to clamber onto the desk along with him, then leaned and grabbed his hips, one hand guiding himself to begin with, eyes closed for now as he concentrated as hard as he could.

Jack blinked and made a soft little sound of surprise as he was pulled back once again, his feet were now fully able to rest on the floor. He still held onto the edge of the desk, now farther before him now. As he felt Snape push forward and use his hip for leverage, he let out a soft cry, and a long sigh. He closed his eyes as he felt himself entered, another soft sound. It hurts, oh God.... it hurts, it hurts... he mentally whimpered to himself not meaning to telegraph, until he thought, Do it. Please. Just... take me, he mentally gasped, wanting it fast, to be over, the initial part had to be the worst.

Snape wasn't waiting to be asked- in fact, he realy didn't care much at the minute whether his partner was willing or not. The part of him that demanded control of every situation was interested, but the pure animal need was much more interested in other matters. And it was, for the minute, much louder than any other voice- including Jack's- in his head. With a low groan he gradually, evenly pushed himself inside, wondering for a brief moment if he would ever stop or if he would indeed just keep pushing and pushing and never finish and never find any completion. But then he couldn't push any more, so he tensed his grip, holding Jack back against him, rocked as far forwards onto the balls of his feet as he could.

Another loud sigh was pushed from Jack's lips, and a soft, surrendering moan as he felt the entrance, and the pressure until his Master was all in him. He lifted his head slightly, panting, and tears running down his cheeks slowly. Snape wasn't moving like he thought he would, just holding himself so still and deep inside of him. Then he allowed himself to be pulled back, still forcing himself to be limp, receptive. "Oh..... Mas....ter..." he panted slowly.

This was his. This was what he had claimed. This... this... It defied anything but experiencing, really. And Severus Snape planned on doing just that as often as he bloody well could. Just say no, to self-denial. He held himself for a handful of heartbeats, but it felt like forever, before he allowed himself the luxury of pulling himself out, and sliding himself back in again. Slow, but getting faster. He listened to his own breathing quickening and wondered just how fast one person could actually breathe. He was not seeing much to his partner's comfort at the minute- that could wait. Why shouldn't it? He'd had to wait for Jack so it was only fair that Jack waited too. "You know... you're the biggest fool... I ever met?" he purred, in a nasty manner- a little breathlessly, shaking the damp hair from his face, ineffectually.

Jack was able to slow his breathing at last, falling into the hypnotic slow rhythm that was coming from behind. In and out, in and out, both flesh and air. He groaned softly with each entry. His body was yielding more now, making it easier for the both of them. "I... want to be.... your Fool...." he moaned, then noticed how much in need he was of attention himself. He was nearly standing upright, so he moved a hand from the edge of the desk, and with a shaking urgency, found his own shaft, and began fisting it eagerly. His moans quickened, and he moved his hips with more motion now, falling into the slightly quickening rhythm set by Snape. "Yes.... Oh God..... Yes...."

Snape noticed that Jack had started stroking himself, and it made him angry. He'd told him in the past to wait, hadn't he? And he didn't listen. Nobody ever listened. Which made him angry. What was the point in wasting his breath if no one paid attention to him? And they should, you know. He was usually right. He was. especially when people didn't pay attention to him. He snapped the next comment off in one breath, "I don't remember giving you permission to touch yourself." One hand whipped out and pushed Jack's hand off himself, forcing it along, and taking over himself. He leaned to growl in an ear, "I'm going to make you come. Understand?"

Jack stopped at the sound of the angry voice in his ear, and sucked in a startled breath. He felt his hand knocked away and he shuddered, afraid and ashamed he had angered Snape. "I... I'm sorry Master...." he panted, squinting his eyes shut tightly and regripping the edge of the desk with both hands now. He would not let go of it until instructed, and he mentally sent that. When he felt the other man's hand on him, he let out a long sigh, and leaned back tighter against the form in motion behind him. He bit down on his lower lip as he was so skillfully attended to, but thought enough to keep himself in check until given the cue.

The chastised Jack seemed to have appeased Snape somewhat- whose perpetual bad mood made proper judgement difficult anyway. The remorseful reaction he got from Jack triggered something he didn't dare think about right now, and concentrated instea don the feeling it gave rather than the cause. Action, reaction. Equal and opposite. Which was how he felt right now, with the younger wizard moving beneath him, accomodating him, and doing terrible things to the few synapses that seemed to be functioning with anything near reliability right now. God. He was too close for his liking- and though dragging it out would likely kill him, he didn't quite want to give up, because he knew that with it- in a flash- all this would be over, and real life would slowly seep back. And he didn't want that at all. His breath hitched a little, and he shook his head in effort to clear it, but that just made him dizzy. That's better... I'll tell you... I'll tell you when, don't worry... I shan't forget, he smirked, mentally, as though the thought of forgetting and leaving Jack unsatisfied would... well. Amuse him.

Jack nodded in an irregular fashion. Natural sense of rhythm seemed to have left him, and he was simply following the pace being set by the other. I know that Master... You will pleasure me if it pleases you, he replied, then began to make the softest of moans with each push from behind. His voice was soft, and lyrical in tone. He lost himself in the rocking hypnotic motions. It was going easier now. What his mind had forgotten, his body had all the memory of, and was accomodating as well as it ever had.

Snape sent a mental agreement to that, but he wasn't too bothered with communicating again. There were more pressing matters to hand. Like how in the hell did he move fast enough? He was gripping Jack's hip so tight his already-white knuckles looked seriously unhealthy. All decorum and grace went out the window as he just strove to find release that had been pent up for far too long now. You saved the world- or at least didn't hasten its end any- and your reward was abstinance and more work? No thank you. He'd rather have this, please. So he was. And god... but he wasn't conscious of his movements at all, of thrusting into Jack, or of his hand working the straining member beneath him. He wanted to let go of that for now- that plagued him too long by day and night. He wanted to forget for awhile and just... damn damn but he was going to get what he wanted at this rate. Just one moment more...

Jack was a smoothly undulating wave of pleasure beneath the panting and groaning form above him. His mind was running on overdrive, overwhelmed with pleasure. He was close so close to falling over that edge, but he was listening, waiting for the cue from Snape, and then, only then would he ... Escape from him, and the Crucio in the streets of Hogsmeade? Jack shuddered, stunned for a moment at the image before his mind's eye, then it was replaced by another; Snape and he, like this but violent, he was tied down, being.... being... oh God the pain, again. Then that was gone, and like a succession of clips from a movie of someone's life, his life, the memories ALL came slamming back into his mind. Jack make a strangled choking sound as he saw all that had happened to him, since the summer in super fast motion. It was the speed only the subconscious mind could read, and he was unable to bring himself to make it stop. He shook his head, trying to get it to stop, but something in Snape's motion on his cock drew him back to that. His mind cracked back and forth like a whip, bouncing between the past, and the present. He tried to sort out what he had just "seen" and it seemed to be stopping, slowing, then there was a twinge in his head, and a sharp, quick pain. He make a whimpering sound and lowered his head, until it rested on the desk.

"OH God.... Oh God..." he muttered, a mantra sure to be misunderstood by his rutting partner. He was seeing other visions now, OLDER ones, and they were of another life, another person, another man. Another time at the school, friends, fun, growing up, then danger, fear, death, prison, and.... It was all there and as he fought to keep his sanity, he suddenly had the presence of mind to shut off those thoughts, close them down. If Snape read those all would be lost. He lifted his head back up again, gasping for air, and eyes wide open. He couldn't even feel what was being done to him for a moment. He was numb. Stunned.

Snape felt a little of what was going through Jack's head, but it was too fast, too alien, and too confusing to be properly dissected right now. Not when he was about to... Drive you through the bleeding desk you see if I don't OH GOD you stupid numbskulled frigging idiottt... The Potions Master's eyes were practically glued open, staring blindly into the room but not seeing anything right now that wasn't in his head. He couldn't have cared less right now if Jack were a werewolf, even- and probably wouldn't much have noticed. The mental whiteout flared momentarily, before leaving him sprawled over Jack's back, pushing his torso onto the desktop again, mouth pressed up against wood. His hand had stilled momentarily from distraction- only gripped as tight as tendons and ligaments would allow. He panted a second more, enjoying feeling Jack so close, even as his own climax waned slowly from his mind, and started to stroke at him again. Hard this time. I suppose... I had best let you come, hm? he asked, somewhat blurrily.

The rapid strokes upon him brought him back from the mass mental input distraction and he made a strangled sound as he was gripped, and pleasure was pulled from him. Yes.... oh yes... he replied slipping back into where he had been before his memories, and those of the boy's had returned. Pleasure, pain, a bit of one, more of the other and with a long sigh, he surrendered himself, yet again. He remembered doing it before, to this man and others, but now he wanted this to be the last time. This time it would stick. "I ... will always.... be yours....." he gasped, then with a loud cry, his hips began to buck with a rhythm all their own, and he tossed his head back, resting it against Snape's shoulder as he slipped over the edge, and fell into Snape's grasp.

"Yes, you will." There was an odd-expression on Snape's face, but there was no one there to see it. It was decidedly undecided- and didn't know really whether it was coming or going. Which was a bad choice of words considering his current condition, but nevertheless. His face might look a tad confused, but his voice definately did not- and his thoughts rather backed up his statement. He continued to slide his hand along the slickened shaft, even after Jack had finished bucking, squeezing every last drop with a sadistic pleasure. He was vaguely glad he'd not left it too long afterwards or he'd definately need attentions again- but thankfully he was only human and he definately didn't right now. When he judged he could finish- by the cramping in his hand that complained about one too many assignments marked, he hooked his arms under Jack's armpits, and shuffled backwards until his calves nudged the chair behind, sitting down slowly and carting Jack back with him. His voice was still gruff, but a little less openly hostile (though that could be forgiven, really) when he did speak. "I'm in two minds, you know. Whether to chain you to my bed or to leave you at the door..." His eyes were half shut as he listened, fighting the urge to yawn and drag oxygen into his lungs. He was already breathing too deply for his liking.

Jack's sides were heaving, and he was only dimly aware of being moved until Snape sat down on his chair, and this drove him up into him at a quite different angle. "Ugh!" he grunted at the discomfort briefly, then took in a deep breath, and let it out slow and shuddered. He heard Snape ponder plans for him, and he turned his head to the side to whisper in a ear nearby. "Which would please you more, Master? I know which I would prefer...." he sighed, then reached a trembling hand up to brush his fringe from his eyes.

"I reserve judgement for the minute," came the rather diplomatic reply. His black eyes were busy watching Jack's fingers in his bi-coloured hair. He'd done that. He felt the slightest bit proud of that. Maybe it was the fact he'd just got laid, but he was starting to think a little funnily. Like how the little bit of white made him look a hell of a lot older- and distinguished? Wasn't that what they said to greying men to cheer them up? Yes, 'distinguished'. He didn't broadcast that overloud. "I don't have to choose right away now do I?"

Jack didn't answer right away, he was finding his mind drifting back to the Epiphany he had just had. He had to tell Snape. It was all there, even things he was sure he had forgotten, or been made to. "No.... No Master..." he said softly, then sighed. A shudder ran through him, and it wasn't necessarily from the cold of the room either. "I shall abide by your wishes." he added, and tried to think of the best way, and time to tell him he knew. He knew all that had been done to him.

"In fact if it is quite alright with you..." he began, mock-polite, laying his face across Jack's head, a little sleepily, "This Potions Master needs his beauty sleep... ten minutes or so should do it..." he said, not knowing how he managed not to laugh, or to yawn. He stifled both, rolling his shoulders once, and pulling his legs into a more comfortable position. You weigh a tonne...

Jack didn't want to leave right now. The "cuddle after the fact" instinct in him was strong, but he knew that would go no where asking for that. He instead nodded. "I understand Master. If I am to remain your brightest student, I need mine as well." He cleared his throat, it felt phlegmy all of a sudden. I can rise and take me leave of you now if you like, he said mentally, then before he could back out of it, and delay it any longer. It's back. My Memory. All of it. I remember it all... he sent, then waited for what would happen next.

Snape was half-yawning and about to reply lazily, when he heard the second comment. He slammed his jaw shut with an audible click. Oh? It is? All of it? How can you be sure all of it is back...? he asked, sounding a little cautious. He was starting to wake up again- alertness sweeping into his mind to deal with this. He didn't really want that but he had no choice. He wasn't sure what he thught or felt about that.

Jack slowly rose from his position on Snape's lap, before being given permission, and wrapped his arms around his quickly chilling form, and glanced around to gather up his clothing and take them to the fire to get dressed. His teeth were starting to chatter by the time he found all of them. "I remember what happened in Hogsmeade. I remember the .... first time we wer together... On that desk...." he said pointing over behind him to the desk, then settled into getting his clothes, the functional ones, back on. His voice was calm, almost unnervingly so.

Reserve judgement. Hear the whole story. Reflect then react. He should practice what he preached and he was really trying to- swallowing down whatever reaction into the place where everything he couldn't feel or acknowledge had to go. It must have been a large place. "Go on..." he said, voice as neutral as he could make it. He was watching Jack's movements, body language, intently, to see what he could divine.

Jack finished pulling on his sweater, and cloak over trousers now in place before tossing his rended shirt into the fire. No evidence, no souvenirs. He slowly turned to regard Snape, his expression weary, perhaps beyond his years weary. His eyes had a different look as well. They were still the same color, but the light in them was different. "We got into an argument in Hogsmeade, or it may have been Knockturn Alley. I was drunk, you were pissed off. We collided, and drew wands. You got out the Cruciatus before I could finish my spell. You tortured me," he said, narrating calmly, watching Snape for a reaction he knew he would never show.

"I wasn't pissed off." Snape had a very good way of latching on to particular things to avoid others. A small, sad, wry half-smile. "That is something... you couldn't understand." How did you explain what the Dark Lord was to someone else? Or his legacy? Or his... birthday present... His mind was wandering into its own alleyways, far too dark for him to consider right now if ever, and he shut down and blocked them out immediately, sharply. Not wanting to go there. His face betrayed none of what was going on behind his eyes- too good at pretence and double-dealing. It looked completely blank- perhaps bored? "I do not intend to go into it with you." Either of it. He couldn't- he didn't think he could cope in the slightest. He hoped that Jack wouldn't realise that- but knew what he might feel if he hadn't. Which was worse? Whatever happened, obviously. The worst was always the truth.

Jack looked down, nodding, Of course not. It doesn't change anything. I recall what happened the night you took me on your desk, other things I was made to forget, or just did. It's alright. I don't expect an apology, it's not necessary for me to survive, he thought, then looked up at Snape again. "I still want to be with you, like we do. I just thought you should know, that I know it all now," he said softly, not judging with the tone in his voice, or the expression in his eyes.

Snape wanted to explain and to apologise. He also wanted to bite Jack's head off for mentioning any of this at all, especially now. It was... It was all Riddle's fault. If anything went wrong, Severus blamed Riddle. Or perhaps Dumbledore. Oh yes he wasn't respnsible for any of his actions in the slightest. He obviously wasn't and adult... He bit his lip a little. He had to say something and he had to say it aloud. It hurt less that way. "You have Riddle to thank partly for that..." but then his mind refused his tongue speech. And... partly myself. He blanked his mind forcefully on that topic. He didn't want that part of him here now. Moved to more pressing matters. He nodded agreement. "Very well. You may wish to inform the Headmaster at some point in the morning," he suggested, sounding for all the world like he hadn't just been roughly fucking his student over his desk at all. He was too god at the whole covering up procedure. Too good by far.

Jack looked into Snape's eyes, dark and bottomless, and the smallest of smiles crept over his mouth. He stepped over to the door, and paused just before exiting. I forgive you Sir. Thank you, he said silently, because like Snape, some things were never meant to hear the light of day, or night. He nodded to his Master, then turned and left the chambers, shutting the door silently behind him.

Snape was fairly certain that forgiveness, redemption, all that rubbish, were not things he was looking for. He thought he had his needs and wants understood pretty well. He tried to. He sent a gruff acknowledgement- no words, just a show of receipt. Go to bed already, he complained. Or you won't get up to see him before breakfast, Grim. Which was about as much as he knew to say."

2002-12-18 16:06:00,
Study Hall,

And all I am studying is myself. My mind has been on one subject alone today, and no where near any of my academic subjects. I still ache, and show bruises and other marks from last night. The marks are not just on my body either. Those I have carefully hidden under tall necked sweaters, and longsleeves. The mental are invisible to all but me.

What a time to have a Memory Epiphany eh? While you, the mild mannered, slightly saucy, and amnesiatic student boy is getting soundly buggered by your House Head, your Potion's Master, your adolescent enemy. Fate has a quite warped sense of the humorous I am discovering. While Snape was soundly giving me the boarding school buggering of my life, and I was sprawled over his desk, again, it all came slamming back, like a video on fast forward and at quadruple speed. Jack's memories, his fears, his desires, then a few of my own as well. That was most inconvenient to be sure.

Once I realized what was happening and recovered from the shock of it all. I shunted off what was Sirius about me, my thoughts, my immediate urge to retch, then thought primarily as Jack, and continued the surrender. Jack wanted it, so badly, and so did Snape. And if I am Jack, and Jack is me, I suppose I did as well. When he clutched me with his sharp nails, acid mouth, and sharp teeth, then claimed me and my body as his for the umpteenth time, I shuddered, and filled his hand and mine with spunk.

Lord, I get hard sitting here running it over in my mind again. If his ache for me was one tenth of how I crave him now, he must surely have been driven mad by our forced separation. I wonder if Albus knows. I am sure he suspects. Why does he allow it? Surely he must know the torment it causes Severus to be using a STUDENT in his own house this way? Could it be he does not care, knowing the wolf, or rather the Dog is really in the fleece and not an innocent lamb?

Who knows HOW or WHAT that old man thinks? He may have meant for this to happen all along as some sort of sick cathartic therapy for Hogwarts Most Insane and Psychopathic Alumni.

So, what do I do now? Carry on as before my memory lapse I suppose. I am not foolish enough to think that Snape and I killed Voldemort. I am sure we slayed his most recent mortal coil, but the bastard's evil spirit is no doubt now lurking in the ether. Well, perhaps we bought Harry and the rest of the world more time, and a bit of breathing room. I will need to look into that.

Snape and I will have to discuss that little soiree when we have the chance. Did he report what happened? Was there any repurcussions for the Death Eaters we killed? That I killed. I don't recall him calling out that Unforgiveable after we shot Voldemort. I seemed to be the one stuck on the Kill setting. But I was struck down and he saved me, again. I owe him two Life Debts now. Part of me is incensed at that thought, and another more dark part of me, finds comfort in that.

I wish I knew why. Well, this has gone on long enough. I need to get back to the House to drop off my bag before heading to dinner. I am starved, and tired, oh so tired. I long for dead, dreamless sleep tonight, and may take a draught to ensure I in fact only do that.

As ever.

2002-12-19 10:38:00,
Another day...

Passes with nothing earthshattering to report. Glances, and the normal bits of snarky conversations between Snape and myself, silent of course. He seems to be digesting things. Pondering my carefully now that I know all. I wonder if the cruelest thing I could have done to the man was to tell him I forgave him.

He seems the sort to prefer to walk around with a cross nailed to his back, bearing the burdens and sins of his life rather than allow himself to be forgiven. Merlin, even I don't hate myself THAT much, but then, I am not buggering a student. I just got my best friends killed with a moment of misplaced trust.

It occurs to me that I have not been "myself" for some time, so I think I shall firstly send an Owl to Harry, then to the others that have written to me. There is word of a meeting for students interested in putting on a play during the Winter Break. I may investigate that as well.

I need to talk to Albus as well. Snape was right on that front. He needs to know I am all me once again. Ah... no rest for the wicked."

2002-12-19 12:45:00,
OWL Post To Harry Potter

Harry,

Sorry for not being in touch for so long. I hope my absence has not caused you too much worry. I am still nearby, and feeling better. It is still not safe for me to come see you, and for that I am deeply saddened. Things have been occuring with Voldemort and his followers, and as soon as I know more, I shall inform you. I promise. Enjoy the Holidays, I shall be in touch again soon.

Sincerely,

Sirius

2002-12-19 12:48:00,
House Elf Note to Cho Chang,

Greetings again Cho,

Thank you again for your kind note. I as well hope that we will see each other again soon. I very much enjoy the talks we have. Did you hear about the meeting this afternoon about the play? I perhaps will attend to see what it is about.

I wanted to thank you again for all the conversation and insights into myself you provided. I look forward to spending more time with you again if you wish it. I must close for now. Classes await, but I just wanted to thank you again.

Fondly,

Jack

2002-12-19 22:50:00,
Puck it all!

Puck... They want me to play PUCK in this play they intend on producing over the break. I wonder how reactions of a certain Potion Master will be once he hears of this...

Hm.... He could make an interesting Oberon...."

2002-12-20 07:54:00,
A talk with the Headmaster

An IC RP with Jack Grim and Professor Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office, hrrming quietly to himself Most of the students had gone home but a fauir number- more than in the past, had stayed. So he was happy that his planned diversion seemed to be going down so well. All that was needed today really was the House Head meeting, but first breakfast...

Jack strode along the hallways of the school, humming a tune to himself as he made his way to the gargoyle statue that was the entrance to Dumbledore's office. He had sent a message via fire that he would like to speak to the Headmaster on a matter of importance, so he knew he was expected. "Fizzing Whizzbees!" he called out with a grin, and a slight rumble of stomach to the stone guardian, then watched as the passage to the hidden staircase revealed itself. Once it was opened, he skipped up the stairs with a nimble gait, and knocked on the heavy wooded door he found at the top.

"Come in, do come in!" came the decidedly cheery-sounding voice from the other side. The Headmaster managed to sound like this every single hour imaginable it seemed. Fawkes made a little cooing sound in his throat on the perch beside him, and he turned and smiled at the bird. "Now now, we have a visitor Fawkes."

Jack ambled into the office, and looked around. It never ceased to amaze him, all the things it contained. He paused as memories from years past washed over him, and he recalled getting called her for rule transgressions, and then being held here until Harry and Hermione had rescued him on Buckbeak. After a moment, he shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and then turned directly to the Headmaster. "I have something to report to you Sir," he said in a pleased tone. "My memory has returned...." he announced, then waited for a reaction.

A lot of emotions flooded over the old wizard's features at once- he was a very expressive person, but that didn't mean whatever he was expressing was completely in sync with what he was thinking or feeling. What remained was a cautious pleasure. He smiled, gently. "My old friend is back?" he asked, not wanting to say something he shouldn't, and playing it safe for a minute. He was watching Jack intently, scrutinising him.

Jack moved into the chair before the desk and rested his hands in his lap. "Yes Albus. Sirius is here, and so is Jack." he said with a smile, then it faded. "Many things have come back to me, including it seems, some things I had forgotten prior, or had been made to forget purposely for one reason or another..." he said with an intent stare directly back into Albus' eyes. He waited before continuing.

Albus no doubt knew exactly what Jack- Sirius- the other wizard- was referring to, he usually did. But you could never quite pin it down with a hundred percent certainity, there was never any proof. He was probably in collusion with the Powers That Be, if he wasn't one of them himself. A lot of people had failed to comprehend at one point or another. His smile looked genuine enough. "I am glad you are back, you were beggining to worry us all," he said, his own eyes never faltering once.

Jack flashed a weak smile, then continued. "Snape nearly killed me that day in Hogsmeade, and you stopped him. I understand why I was releived of that memory. It would be quite hard for me to continue my mission if my primary goal was the evisceration of the Potion's Master." he narrated, then after a pause, he continued. "I have no desire to harm Severus. We have reached a workable relationship as Grim and Snape. I know my job is to look after Harry." he said, then after another moment of reflection he went on. "Did Severus report to you all that happened the night we were summoned to Voldemort?"

Albus nodded, face calm and composed. "I am glad you have at least learned to overcome your animosity, Sirius," he said, deliberately using the Gryffindor's given name. "And I am also pleased that you understand why I did what I did." Whether or not he thought Snape would have killed him was another matter entirely but not one for now. "Severus did tell me a little of what happened, but I am not sure if it was all. He always gives the impression he is holding something back- even if he isn't, or the only thing he is witholding are his own feelings. He told me what was needed... but perhaps there is something you think he might have missed out that I should know?" he prompted, tilting his head slightly and stroking his beard. Fawkes looked a little uncomfortable at this point, but didn't move much.

Jack nodded, then thought of that night which seemed so long ago, and tried to recall details. "I remember bits and pieces. We were before Voldemort, and there was talk, between himself and Severus. Then as if to prove some point.... Snape was made to torture me for credibility to Voldemort." he said, leaving out the fringe reason Voldemort wanted to see him played with. He took a deep breath, and continued. "Then Snape snapped, something happened and at the same moment we were both suddenly attacking Voldemort. Something meshed between us, and we both hit him with the Killing Curse at the same moment." he said, then paused.

The Headmaster did frown at that, a slight crease between his bushy brows. "You used the Killing Curse?" There was no real admonishment there, just- an uneasiness? Perhaps. Perhaps not. It was gone and he nodded- back to his usual self again- or the one he was listening to serious news. "What happened, Jack?" he asked.

Jack, sighed and after a shrug, continued. "A Hexing firefight. My guess is the combination of the Killing Curses and the emotions behind it was enough to destroy the life in his body, but not destroy Voldemort himself. Once that had occured we were beset upon by other Death Eaters. I continued to .... slay them..." he said, voice a bit uneasy now. "I am not sure how many, then I was struck with the Cruiciatus from behind." he paused again, steeling himself for what he was to say next. "It was Malfoy Sir, Lucius was torturing me to the point that drove me mad, and Severus stopped him. That is the last thing I recall of that night." he stopped there, waiting.

Albus Dumbledore had met almost every wizard between certain ages currently living in Britain because most of them had come to Hogwarts whilst he was there in some manner shape or form- something that unsettled a few people to see when out and about. And Lucius Malfoy was one of the ex-students he knew very well indeed. His face only looked a little pained, at what precisely was difficult to know. He didn't speak for a long time. "Sirius, I suppose I do not have to tell you, but a lot of people make mistakes... And sometimes become involved in things they cannot control..." He wasn't justifying, just... seeking to explain? "Thank you for telling me this. I am going to ask another favour of you, my boy. I know I should not, but I must, hard as it is. You are int he same House as Draco... Please, keep an eye on him... he perhaps needs help as much as Harry does, if not more so." The Headmaster suddenly looked every day of his advanced years, and weary. He watched the youth before him intently.

Jack kept his expression on Draco neutral, and nodded slowly. "Of course. I had at one point befriended the boy, and I see him desiring to take a path far different than his father. At times anyway." he commented. "He has the potential to walk either path, the light or the dark. In any case, I shall watch him as closely as I can. He is not the most friendly and open of persons." he said evenly, then leaning forward, scooped a handfull of Bertie Botts from a bowl on the desk, and began to eat them one by one. He waited for Albus to reply.

"Thank you, my boy. I know this... cannot be easy." He seemed to digest the information steadily, before he blinked, and was all airy and light again. "I do believe that's the wand-glue flavour you just had. Horrid horrid things..." he chuckled, seemingly heartily amused by the prospect.

Jack made a face confirming that fact, and after locating a bin, spat it out quickly. "Yuck... I should stick to the chocolate things..." he muttered, then he rose from his chair and looked at Albus with a weary smile. "So, I shall return to my watch unless there is anything else you need ask of or from me?" he smiled.

"Hm perhaps, though I do find them to be a lot of fun guessing... depends how much you like risks, hm?" He winked. "I can currently think of nothing I want to ask you, Jack, nor of anything I can think to tell you to help. Only to make sure you take better care of yourself, and your House Head too, who doesn't seem to understand the concept at all. Hm, good heavens, we will be missing breakfast at this rate! Come come!" he rose suddenly, and started to the door. "This will never do..." When he was almost at the door, he stopped and placed a hand on the student's shoulder. "You did right to tell me, Jack. And I hope if there is anything else, anything at all, that you will not hesitate to inform, or dicuss things with me..."

Jack looked over at the older man, one of his true, few remaining friends. "I promise to look after him as best I can, and I shall report anything of note pertaining to the Mission," he said with a smile, then followed the Headmaster from the office, and down to the Great Hall."

2002-12-23 15:44:00,To Hogsmeade,"Well, now that Exams are finished, and I am WAY behind in my shopping for Christmas. Mostly, I am shopping for Harry, and perhaps Cho Chang. I am not sure what to get her, but I want to find something. I am not counting on anything from Snape, however, I have something planned for him for Christmas Morning...

More later....

2002-12-24 19:30:00,
Christmas Eve will find me....

Jack laid on his bed in the early evening, looking at the small pile of packages wrapped and ready to deliver. He smiled and paused to take a sip from the spiced hard cider on his nightstand. After reflecting on the recent days and weeks for a while, he at last got up and put the presents away then put on a dark green dress robe to go down and join in the Caroling and cookies and milk by the fire in the Great Hall."

2002-12-25 07:02:00,
Merry Christmas Presents!

To Harry:

From Sirius, he finds a large box full of the finest candies from Honeydukes, and an elaborately framed photo of his parents on their wedding day. When the frame is touched on the date at the bottom, the photo animates, and you are able to hear James and Lily exchange their wedding vows. Also included is a new set of Quidditch pads and a silk carrying bag for his Firebolt.

To Cho:

A necklace consisting of two dozen tear shaped beads on a golden wire. The beads are Mood Stones, and will change color to match the mood of the wearer. Enclosed is a card that reads, "Dear Cho, perhaps these will help me know at last how you are feeling. Merry Christmas my dear friend, Jack Grim."

To Albus Dumbledore:

Several new pairs of very loudly colored socks, some musical, some enchanted, and a large box of candies from Honeydukes."

2002-12-25 07:17:00,
Happy Christmas Professor Snape...

Severus Snape was a light sleeper. On the worst of nights he would toss and turn and fret the nights away- unless he didn't sleep at all in which case he left his fitful bed and would stay as active as he could for as long as he dared. Sometimes he could sleep fairly well- but that was on the rare occasions he was 'happy', more or less. He'd slept the night before reasonably well, but still woke a little after dawn, even if the sun's rays had no business this deep in the castle. His eyes opened, blinked a few times, and struggled to focus on something unfamiliar overhead. He frowned, and wondered if it was something dangerous, waiting until it resolved into one image. What in the spheres...?

Hung over the Potions Master's Head from the canopy on his bed was not one, but several sprigs of freshly cut Mistletoe. The pale-colored berry's seemed to be looking down at him merrily, while the dusky green of the oblong leaves complimented the color scheme of his room. The bunches were tied together with curled red ribbon, and two golden bells hung down from the ends of the ribbon.

Snape sat up, abruptly, and pulled down a sprig of the plant that was hung there, rolled it experimentally between finger and thumb, and narrowed his eyes. Oh yes? He turned and slid his feet out from under the bedclothes and onto lone rug covering cold stone floor, rolling his eyes. He slid the bunch into one of the pockets of his night robe, and stood up. Half-mumbling to himself he unhooked his dark green dressing gown from its place and shrugged it onto his shoulders, before he looked around for any further mischief.

There were more bunches of the decorated Mistletoe, hanging gleefully from every support on the roof of the room, and over the doorways leading out of the room. A particularly large bunch tied with candy canes and golden ribbon was placed on a section of wall that was most unremarkable to the naked eye, or the unknowing mind.

Shaking his head, Snape found his wand and cast a quick spell, collecting all the decorations together and placing them in a pile at the foot of his bed. Red and white candy canes? Oh the nerve of it. The closest he got to Christmas spirit was that he didn't burn the lot there and then- but that was only a fault of omission- had he thought of it he might have. He paused when he walked over to the wall, and rested one flat-palmed hand to the cool, large blocks of masonry there. He contemplated making a noise, but then changed his mind- and tapped out a command using his wand, before sliding it back into his pocket. Devilishly well-planned, not to have woken or disturbed him. Snape wondered if his food had been spiked- or if just magic had been used instead. Fastening a loose knot in the tie around his waist, he sauntered along the passage lazily, dark eyes giving the impression of one bored and disaffected. He made no effort to make his steps softer or louder- just walked.

All along the sides of the secret hallway were strung bough's of fresh evergreen in graceful swags of green. They filled the tunnel with a sharp scent of pine, and cedar, and every three feet or so, at the top of each swap was seet a charmed candle, flickering a tiny magical flame to illuminate the way. Farther down the narrow corridor, just out of Snape's vision lay his present. There was a large box, wrapped gaily in silver and green striped foil paper. It had to be nearly three foot square. The huge bow on the top of the box was green satin, and there was an oversized card attached to it as well. "TO: Professor Snape, Merry Christmas" read the inscription in an elaborate script in shimmering green ink.

Thin, pale lips quirked in the peculiar way the Potions Master had of- smiling? Sort of a smirk, but not quite. It defied naming. He walked up to the box, and picked up the card. Hummed to himself and spoke at his normal tone, "Hm, someone's going to be disappointed, because I haven't got anyone anything..." he mused aloud, before pacing around to look at the box from all angles. He slipped the card into a pocket, before nudging the box with one foot. Cocked his head to one side, and set his fingers to work on untying the bow. Useless waste of trees better used as books, in his opinion.

Inside the box, Jack covered his mouth with his hand and stifled a snicker. He felt the box get a gentle kick, and just hoped that Severus Snapes preferred method of unwrapping a gift didn't involve flames. He heard the faint scratchings of the bow being removed, and stilled himself, waiting.

After undoing the ribbon, the professor wound it around his knuckles evenly, slid it off, and tucked the end in through the loops. And pocketed it too. He had big pockets. That done he eyed the paper suspiciously, and used one fingernail to split the paper, along the crease at the top, from end to end, humming ever so slightly to himself in the process. Then he dug his fingers inbetween the flaps and pulled them apart, folding them back along the sides. He narrowed his eyes, and peered over into the box, before he buried his arm in the box up to his elbow and groped about blindly in the box. "Let's see what we have here, hm?"

Jack was hidden under piles of excelcior, and under that, wrapped in a red wooelen blanket. He snickered softly as he heard the rustle of Snape's hand in the shredded material. He was trembling slightly from the anticpation, it was nearly killing him at this point, he hated waiting for anything. Shifting his crouching position slightly he waited for the seeking hand to find him.

Pushing past packing material, Snape's hand found something warm and slightly yielding- he squeezed the fabric-covered something slightly to see if he could guess what was beneath, then shuffled up until his toes were pressed against the box, dipped his other hand in and rummaged briefly, before hands withdrew and took hold of the edge of the box and he tilted it towards him, leaning it against his legs before walking back and lowering it semi-carefully to one side on the floor. "If Mohammed won't come to the mountain..." he rumbled, slightly grumpy-sounding. "Sodding waste of paper..."

Jack giggled as he was groped at, and then scrabled for a hold as the box was tilted on it's side. He felt it rest at last on it's side, and then most of the packing fall forward out of the box until he was just a lump at he back of the box, still shrouded in the red blanket. Movement, then something mumbled by Snape as he felt around inside the box again. Almost there....

Fine, be like that, Snape thought, and stormed around behind the box. This time he picked it up around the base, tilted it further, shook, and eventually pulled the cube of cardboard free from its contents. He let it fall, and then nudged the bundle by his feet with one toe. "If this is a knitted jumper, you die," he said simply, crouched, and tugged at the blanket with both hands.

Jack was unable to stopped giggling now, then let out a surprised shriek as the box was suddenly upended, and he was dumped to the floor in a pile of blanket and excelsior. He shuffled around a bit, then lay still again. He was shaking was trying so hard to keep from laughing outright. Good thing I am not something that spoils you take so bloody long... he grumbled back.

So I take it you don't savour good wine then... came the mental retort. It only gets better with time and should not be quaffed... As he thought his hands quickly, but effieciently untangled the mass of fabric, before he settled back on his heels. "Hm, this is my present? I wonder if I can exchange it if it is the wrong size..." A smirk.

Jack at last rolled free of the blanekt wrapping, now laying back on his side on it, head resting on a crooked arm, and one leg bent upward while the other was outstretched on the ground. He was naked as the day he was born save for a lage red bow tied around his neck, temporarily covering the Ouroboros, and another red ribbon was tied brightly around his hips with the bow settled over his groin. He gazed up into the dark eyes beholding him, and he said very softly, "Merry Christmas Sir," he whispered, then after slowly running a tongue across his lips, which seemed to have a gloss all of their own, he added, "Well, the only way to see if your present is the correct size I suppose, is to put it on..." he said with a dangerous smirk.

"All in good time..." the Potions Master said, eyes narrowing critically. He brought one hand up under Jack's chin, and tilted his head from side to side, and back, examining the bow, which he slid one finger beneath to test the slack. With careful attention he slid his hands over arms and legs, bending joints, and pinching occasionally. He made a slight satisfied sound. "It'll do I suppose... a tad too pale for my liking, though I do say so myself... However I am sure that is easily rectified. All that does remain, I suppose, is for me to try out my present," he said, in as unemotional a voice as possible, despite one hand still lingering behind a knee, the other brushing black and white fringe back carelessly.

Jack closed his eyes as he felt his Master slowly and delicately brush his hand over him, inspecting him. This sent a rush of desire through him that made him all at once shiver and sigh as he grew hard almost instantly. He made a low purring sound in his throat as he was held, and only partially heard what Snape had said. He kept his eyes closed, just waiting. His breathing was quickening to match the pace of his pulse.

"I'm afraid I haven't got you anything for Christmas..." Snape droned, his voice as slick as his hair. He was still kneeling, and his mind cast about the locale- bare stone, cardboard, chippings, and a blanket. Hardly the Ritz, or even vaguely comfortable. So much the better then. Shifting his position a little awkwardly, so the bones of his knees at least had a little padding (he did want to be able to stand, later, after all) he noted with a little pleasure that he had been right, Jack's colour was changing nicely. He slid his hand between the youth's legs, rubbing his the heel of his palm above the bow, and attempting to push it down lower, as his fingers scrathced idly down across his belly. The fingers of the other hand wriggled in under the hip in contact with the floor. "You're just going to have to tell me what you would like then. Perhaps you will even get it..."

Jack sighed when he was touched again, and thought The only present I have recieved so far was something from the Headmaster... A game of some sorts, and some candy, and a sweater. he thought, then continued, I wear your present around my neck Master, that is all I need, I have no need for objects as long as I know you will have me.... he thought. He arched his back pressing his belly tighter to the touches, and eased himself down onto his back onto the blanket and strewn wrappings. Although... perhaps a featherbed to lie upon might be nice... Despite what most people thought, Severus Snape had a sense of humour. It was just that most people misinterpreted it, didn't notice, or failed to believe it. Not that he often showed it. Settling back on his feet, he found his wand, and waved it once. "Cumulo-pennis..." he uttered, and a steady stream of small, snow-white feathers fell from somewhere, and managed to get anywhere they shouldn't, like in mouthes and eyes. A few were sticking in Snape's black hair. The Headmaster never had much taste... How is that? he asked, pulling at a feather behind his ear, and dropping it to watch it twirl to the floor. His hands left Jack momentarily as he shuffled up a little closer, and leaned to unfasten the bow at his neck. I suppose I should be grateful Albus has not sent me anything... he mused.

Jack looked up at the falling feathers, and laughed happily. He quicky saw the error of this, as he swallowed a feather and began to choke on it. He eventually spat it back out, then looked sheepishly at Snape. "Perhaps if they were inside a duvet... it' might be safer, no telling what they will be sticking too in a bit...." he said with a sound of distinct trepidation in his voice. He spotted the ones landing in Snape's hair, and with a snicker, leaned forward to brush them aside.

"Oh, I thought a tarring and feathering would be just what was needed... though I doubt you would make a very good angel and you couldn't sit on any tree..." He tilted his head down and let Jack pull the feathers from his hair before he got distracted by shiny ribbon, and decided to investigate. Do you think I can undo this with just my teeth? he thought aloud.

Jack paused at Snape's comments. "Well, they want me to play a bloody nymph in that play, I suppose I will look good in wings one way or the other..." he snickered, then looked down as Snape eyed the ribbon around his waist. I've yet to see a part of your body you weren't talented with Sir, he replied, then stretched out, sliding his legs apart to allow Snape more kneeling room for the delicate task at hand. Does this help? he inquired, then sighed, and closed his eyes again.

Don't talk to me about that bloody play... at least they haven't shang-haied me into helping yet... Hmm.... Just don't let on... that I'm talented then... or they might come... knocking... his thoughts began to become a little more laboured as he somehow managed to move until he was curled up between Jack's legs, hands at the top of his thighs as he used his tongue and teeth to try and prise the knot open. You could have made it looser... he complained.

What? Make a task simple? Never! he thought with a mental snort. I learned from you after all... The harder the task, the more skilled the student becomes. he thought then reaching for his wand, uttered a charm, and summoned a carafe of hot spiced cider and some scones. They filled the tunnel with a warm, spicy scent. Nourishment is provided....

I need no teaching, Snape scoffed. Not from you. Pride wounded, he closed his eyes and visualised the bow in his mind, working an invisible ribbon through the traces and steps necessary to make that shape, before pressing in close and applying just the right amount of pressure in just the right spot in the correct direction... There. Thirsty work... he thought, brushing his nose over the plane of muscle, before he sat back and looked at the tray of refreshments. "Perfect. I knew how much you were ruled by your stomach, but I have to say your timing is impeccable."

Jack held his breath as Snape moved in closer to him, and he flet the lightest of brushings of nose across his belly. He let out a long sigh as the bow around his waist was pulled, and lifted up slightly to allow it to be pulled free. Well done.... he thought, then opened his eyes and looked over at the tray as well. The smells of the scones and cider was making his stomach growl and his mouth water. "Shall I serve you Master?" he asked from under unruly fringe with a sly grin.

Snape slid his feet under him to sit cross-legged, his hands resting on his knees. He shook his head, tossing his hair back reflexively. He was over-dressed, and not in the mood for such silly games. But whatever turned him on... "Just a small finger," he said, even if it was cider. Such situations tended to bring out the worst in him, in more ways than one.

Jack nodded, and quickly and deftly poured a small amount of the cider for Master, then handed it to him. He poured more for himself, but touched his cup to Snape's before drinking. "Happy Christmas to us both, the most misunderstood and under appreciated Slytherin's ever..." he said grinning cheekily.

A few scones and a few more ciders later, and Snape was hoping to hell he didn't have to be anywhere today. The Potions Master should not be seen in any state of inebriation, intoxication or even infatuation. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, and licked the last remnants from his lips. It was still early in the morning- much too early, really, but he didn't care. He was- as good as damnit, on holiday. He was owed it for sure, for coming back in the summer time if nothing else. He shrugged his shoulders out of his dressing gown- the knot in the belt had long since worked loose as they always seemed to, and dropped it along with the other remnants of things strewn about.

There were random scones and feathers and traces of ribbon everywhere. "What a mucky pup you are... Honestly... you cannot even keep your own mouth clean... it is always ever so dirty..." The tip of pale pink tongue peeked past thin lips to lick again, impulsively this time, and he shuffled closer up to Jack, one hand resting on his thigh. "What do I always say... you should clean up all your mess, including spillages." He blinked lazily, looking at Jack's lips, which looked decidedly not spotless in the slightest. He hovered in close, and sniffed, smelling butter and pastry and apples and alcohol and... something else sweet he was sure hadn't been on the menu. Puzzled, he looked up.

Jack simply smiled at the chiding, he was used to it now, it rolled off of him like water off of a duck. "Then I suppose there is nothing left to do but clean me off before the testing my fit." he purred in a low voice, his eyelids half closed. He then leaned closer to Snape, pressing his lips to his Master, and began kissing him slowly, letting him taste the honey spelled onto his lips earlier. Happy Christmas, Master... he thought in a slight daze. Everything was right for a change, the moment frozen in time.

Snape didn't even notice that he hadn't been the one to initiate, but he was too nicely stewed in the buzz of just the right amount of alcohol to relax, but not impede. Hmm, whatever you say... came the slightly fuzzy reply, mentally, of course, because the elder Slytherin was far too occupied with running his tongue over Jack's lips, before plunging it inside, to see where tasted better. I'm sure Filius would have a fit if he realised what you were using his charms for... he said, too relaxed to care much about formalities such as titles. One hand went behind the other's head to hold him closer, pressing chests close (his still covered with the thin flannel night-shirt) as he rolled over slightly, until he was half-lying atop the other. His free hand was busy tracing up along one side, along bare ribcage.

Jack sighed behind the kiss, making it deeper, forgetting who was Master and who was Pet here. He wanted to devour the other man, and would show it in any way he could. His hands slid over the wide back of his partner, and upon finding the edge of the nightshirt, began to pull it upward to remove the last barrier between them. He hummed happily behind the kiss, then sent a question. Ready to try me on yet Master?

This was answered quickly enough with a fast manuever by Snape once the nightshirt had been removed from him and discarded to the side. His right hand came up to capture both of his present's hands in his own, and he lifted them upward and over Jack's head. A muttered charm bound them in green ribbon, and his hand held them there immobile while the other slipped down from ribcage, to the flat of belly and down further yet. Yes... I think it is time to see just how good of a fit we have here..."

2002-12-25 16:23:00,
Happy Christmas Jack Grim

Well, the day is drawing to a close and I am pausing to reflect upon it. It started off well enough. My dorm mates awoke to piled and piles of presents at the foot of their beds, and after opening them with greedy glee in front of me.

I could give a shit, I am a forty year old who has never been interested in acquiring "Things". Albus sent me a few items a boy of my "age" might enjoy. The thought was greatly appreciated. No word from Cho or Harry on the gifts I sent to them, and I am quite sure Severus enjoyed what I had wrapped for him this morning. If my discomfort at sitting is any clue as to how MUCH he enjoyed it...

Supper is soon, I am still partially full from dinner earlier today. I will sleep good tonight I can tell already.

As ever.

2002-12-26 21:46:00,
We need to talk...

The end of Christmas day did not mean the end of revelry. Most of those old enough to be celebrating in any fashion were not to be found here over the holidays, but some still were. And it was Severus Snape's civic and moral duty to teach people the error of their ways.

So, sleepless again, he haunted the corridors and passageways of Hogwarts- but save for ghosts, found them mostly empty. Eventually, he found his feet had led him to near the

Ravenclaw tower, by chance, and near the roof. With the barest of excuses for going up their other than he wanted to, he decided to have a look around. It wouldn't hurt, after all. With no small degree of care, he found his way up, and looked first at the sky he could see. The sky was bare save a few whisps of stray cloud, and very, very cold. He supressed a shiver.

Jack was sitting on the top of one of the towers, breaking rules as he was still wont to do from time to time. He was smoking this time. His habit had returned with his memory, and he was simply sitting in a wind shielded alcove with only some Gargoyles for company. He took another long pull on the cigarette and closed his eyes as he blew out the smoke. He listened to the sounds of the night, mostly silent, oh, there was a screech owl. Listen. Wind, and with it the smell of approaching rain. He smelled other things too, animals, mold, dust and then.... Snape? He opened his eyes, blinking, and looked around, sticking his head out from the alcove.

Snape could smell things too. With his nose- and especially that of a non-smoker, the nicotine diffusing throughout the air was only too detectable. Ah so he did have an excuse to be up here. Little perishers, did they never think to stop? Even now? There was no helping some people. "Alright I know you're out there. Come along easily and this is over faster..." he said, not bothering to look about. He was guarding the nearest exit, the next one was a long way away and he would be able to hex them still if they ran. There was no wind, for which he was grateful, or it would be even colder. And he had no desire to catch a cold.

Jack grinned, and slowly emerged from his hiding place, seeing quite well in the dark, and still holding the smoldering fag between his fingers, walked toward the sound of the voice. "Perhaps... I don't want it to be over fast..." he drawled as he approached, and then took another long hit as he waited for him to speak.

Oh great. Snape rolled his eyes in silent entreaty. But had he ever expected that Jack Grim would behave? "I've hexed people for less than that," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "I suppose you know the gravity of this?" he asked, biting his bottom lip. His nose wrinkled at the smell- for one who worked with noxious chemicals all day, he was decidedly hypocritical about everyone else.

Jack gave Snape a slow eyed stare, then with a practiced flick of his wrist, sent the ember into the air where it disappeared with a soft "pop" and a show of sparks. "No evidence there Professor, so you won't have to take the trouble to fill out the detention parchment." he said drolly as he continued to approach Snape. He stopped just short of him, then folded his hands before him, and bowed his head. "Punish me if you must. But I am an addict Sir, just pity me and know that the life I shorten is my own."

Snape growled. "You know I must- rules are for everyone," he said. And you only could break them if you could get away with it or not be found out. And only if you had a reason- in his eyes. Such a nice way of justifying everything. Not moving forwards, he took one of Jack's hands and held it under the boy's nose. "The evidence is here," he wafted it slightly, "and here." Indicating fingers and breath. Sighed over-dramatically. "Useless... the lot of you." He let Jack's hand fall and stalked over to the edge of the turret, hands on the coping stones.

Jack sighed as the evidence was pointed out to him, then that became a laugh as Snape moved to the turret, away from him. He walked over to join him, chosing to sit with his back to the stone wall, next to Snape's legs. "I smell, and am smeared with much more than just tobacco as well Sir, I am thinking, we would not want me found with THOSE traces of contraband..." he said in a cheeky tone, then went silent, looking back up at the stars again. "I suppose detention is in the eye of the beholder. Cleaning won't change my ways, nor will spending time with the Squib Filch. I suppose we could have at it now, here and just.... talk?" he said after a beat, then cast a glance in Snape's direction.

"Irredeemable, then, are you?" Snape's eyebrow lifted, but he carried on staring for a minute. Traced the constellations with practiced ease, and wondered how much of his Astronomy he could remember. The view wasn't excellent from here- the taller purpose built Astronomy tower was obviously the best place to look at the stars for any purpose, but it would do. He looked down at last. "And is talking with me really such a penitance?" he asked, not betraying whether he was annoyed or amused or anything.

Jack nodded, "It could be. If we discussed matters of importance and did not fall into conversations pertaining to our sordid secret lives and the gleeful deaths we would like to place upon our enemies." he said quietly, just loud enough for his voice to carry to his Master's ears. "There is much that has happened, and much that needs to be said about such things..." he said, then sighed, and fought the urge to light up again.

"Oh. That." He didn't lean against the wall, much as he wanted to, but remained where he was, as ever. Always ready to retreat into immobility in the face of the world. He didn't want to talk about things much in case... difficult things happened... but Jack was right, things did need to be discussed, and he couldn't be childish and run away from it if even a fifth year would face up to facts. "Asthis is your idea, then, I shall allow you to chose the topic of conversation..." he said, clearly uncomfortable. He didn't joke about some things. Not without hysteria setting in first.

Jack took in a long breath, then let it out slowly as he carefully considered his topic of discussion. "Well..." he said after a long pause, "I suppose the thing I want to know most about is just what happened to me, to the both of us that day in Hogsmeade..." he said softly, then looked down at the stone near his feet. He shivered, as if still feeling the effects of that day.

"Whatever foolery you had yourself entangled in, I cannot say. Though I think you had been drinking..." Fingers ran along his hairline, an automatic, self-comforting gesture that he wasn't too self-conscious to smother, or maybe too distracted to. Of all the... well he had said he would talk and he had to know, he supposed. "The day before was the anniversary of the day I joined Voldemort." There. They were only words and they couldn' bite him and it wasn't as if everybody didn't know... "He was in the habit of sending a... present, a reminder... to his initiates. Especially if they were out of touch with him. I have no idea if it was the same for everyone, or even fully what it comprised..." he paused, closing his eyes, and letting himself narrate and staying as divorced from what he was saying as he possibly could. The... way of thinking was all too easy to slip back into... under influence or not.

Jack nodded slowly, "Ah... I suppose that sort of anniversary would make one... on edge." he said, chosing his words carefully. He sighed again. "I can't imagine what that would be like. First of all to join him willingly, then leave, then to be made a spy against him. Rough lot to have been dealt." he said with a tone of smpathy to his voice. Had Severus known the true identity of his companion, he would have been all the more surprised by the sentiment.

Snape felt the automatic gall at assumptions and inaccuracies, but he wasn't feeling much like arguing over semantics he wasn't entirely sure of himself. He bit his bottom lip. "More or less, after a fashion." A very highly simplified one. "He liked to say that he was only bringing out latent qualities and that there was nothing that wasn't there already..." He didn't know why he was saying it, but he was. For lack of anything else, and because it was screaming in his mind in the sheer panic that usually came with confronting himself. "Used to say it was his present... to let people really be free." He shut up then, and made a mental promise to shut the hell up. This wouldn't do anyone any good, but he'd at least done what he said he would. That was what was going on with him. Bloodlust...

Jack thought about that, and rubbed at his chin as he thought that over. "I can see that. He opens the door to Hell, but you walk yourself in." he replied. "I know how that feels. He offers you the thing you want most whether it be fame, power, riches or even.... revenge." he said with a thoughtful tone to his voice. "And then you find some way of justifying it, and you take it. He almost had me. For a moment, he did..." he said, then without realizing it, pulled out another cigarette and lit it with a few quick practiced maneuvers of his hands. He took a long drag and exhaled before continuing. "But I found my way back somehow." he mused, then, "I suppose I have you to thank partially for that in some twisted way."

Snape was nodding, slightly, in agreeance. Been there, done that, got the Dark Mark, he thought grimly. He didn't even notice that Jack had lit up. He was rapidly slumping into a melancholic introversion. At the last, he looked over, crease forming between his dark brows in confusion. "Oh you do? I must have missed that..." he commented with some bitter humour.

Jack swallowed, took another hit, then blew out as he spoke, "It was not long after that, as far as I can tell that you and I began... indulging." he said pausing as a whole set of memories of that era came to the forefront. "I remember that night in your classroom as well. I owe you an apology for that. I know I drove you to what you did to me. I provoked you. That bothers me from time to time." he confessed. "I never seriously thought you the type to molest your students. Even in my most dark hours of considering you. I also am sure you had no idea of the existance of that tunnel until I found it." he said, then went silent.

"You... are in utmost certainity the single most willfully blind, unhinged, unhelpable person I know!" Even if that was more the kind of thing people had said to him over the years. Fingers pinching the bridge of his generous nose, Snape shook his head in disbelief. "I can't credit it... how on earth could..." He swallowed. He couldn't in all the world say 'me raping you', so chose the abstract, definate article instead. "...that possibly be your fault?" Of course Snape had, in turn, blamed himself, Jack, Voldemort, Albus, his parents, society in general and even the weather for this along with everything else but... He supposed it made sense, if he took an objective look at it, at how to... live with something like that... But he didn't want to take that view. He snapped bitterly. "Obviously I am that type, or I never would have," he hissed.

Voldemort, again, giving him the slight amount of leeway to do what he liked and... he... did. Snape was struggling not to go up an octave. He knew he still hadn't fully gotten to the bottom of whatever-it-was that had driven him to it and probably never would. Who cared if he knew about some stupid tunnel or not? Surely the point was if he used it or not... No, don't sink into self-flagellation, turn it outwards before you rip yourself to shreds, something was telling him.

"No..." Jack said in a low voice that sounded choked almost, raspy. "You hadn't done it before now, even when you were fully under His thrall, so why should you chose to with me unless the case was different. I am different ... Professor..." he said almost saying 'Severus' but catching himself just before that slip was made. "I am not the normal sort of boy, or student. You are not to blame. I won't let you take the blame for the cause of it. You did what you did of course, but you were pushed, beyond the limits of any mortal man." he said, then sighed, "You were not the protagonist in this case Severus Snape, I was."

"What in all the orders of the heavenly host makes YOU different, Jack Grim?" Snape asked, now openly hostile. Cornered animals would fight tooth and nail. And he was currently feeling incredibly threatened and uncomfortable. It didn't help that Jack wasn't shouting back- that only made him more uncomfortable than before. He bent down and grabbed the youth's collar, yanking him to his feet so he had to look him in the eye. He was spitting a little as he spoke, so annoyed was he, but he didn't notice. "What makes you so bleeding special, hm? And what is it you think you have done...?" Hurt was in his eyes under the anger, hurt that he'd do this. He tried to ignore it as best he could but it was still there. Like it or not, he did have some standards, even if they weren't what most people would call normal and in his right mind... he would sicken himself.

Jack let out a sound of surprise as he was grabbed and hoisted to his feet. The fag fell from his fingers to the stone below, forgotten in the face of Snape's sudden verbal explosion. Jack slowly looked him in the eyes from behind his ever-present fringe, and kept his voice calm, fighting the urge to tell him, to tell him everything, but he couldn't. It would unhinge him even more, and despite who he was, he was already feeling damned to hell for what he had driven him to do.

"I am not a normal boy, Sir." he said, using the formal address to keep from calling him Severus again. "I am a mad, immoral and cruel waste of life. You were not the Pope when I met you, but no matter what a bastard you were before, I made you cross lines no one else EVER could have." he said in a dead calm voice. He blinked, wetness showing in his eyes, "I am so sorry.... No matter how I could have hated you before, at any time... You don't deserve what I have done to you. You've suffered enough for three lifetimes..." he said then looked to the side as twin tears ran down his cheeks.

Snape was annoyed, and hurt, and scared. Three very bad things for him to be. And when he was annoyed or hurt or scared, he resorted to incredibly childish and immature behaviour. He would lash out and attempt to change the subject, or end whatever it was that was annoying him. It was an automatic defence mechanism, and not one he could control. One thing that went was his voice- too high and manic, with a hint of desperation seeping in at the edges and threatening to flood him. "You're right, I don't. I don't deserve any of it but what good does that do me? Nothing. Why in the name of all that is holy did you see fit to drag this up?" he hissed. "Some things are better off left... let sleeping dogs lie..."

Long thin fingers curled up in the dark fabric, holding Jack up so he had to stand on the balls of his feet for a minute, before he leaned in close, eyes unsettled, awash with too many different things to count. In his head, a mantra was running around and around. I hate you I hate you I hate you I..."There is no excuse for what has been done. Any of it. But get one thing straight, if you learn nothing else in your pitiful excuse for an existance:" He pulled again. "Saying 'sorry' doesn't make it right." The collar gradually slid out of his grip. He didn't trust himself then, didn't trust what he might say or do that later he might regret, which led to another thing... And never do anything you don't mean.. he thought, more to himself than anything else, as he stormed off the roof, refusing to say another word, but whether what Jack said or thought was heard, there was no evidence either way.

Jack snorted as he was dropped back down onto his feet, and Snape stormed off. Bloody coward is what you are! he sent silently. I suppose it is forbidden for someone to CARE about Severus Snape, for someone to WANT to be with the miserable bastard for the simple reason of just wanting HIM! Fine! Run away. It appears that is what you do best when it cuts too close to the bone. he snarled then turned and slunk back to his alcove, and pulled out another cigarette.

Severus Snape was storming his way back to his rooms, where he was safe, and not on the roof, where he was not. He vaguely realised as he reached the floor that doing so would mean crossing half the castle in exactly the kind of mood he didn't want to broadcast, which left him torn, and trapped. He bit his bottom lip and unsuccessfuly fought the urge to cringe into his collar as Jack refused to just let the matter drop, but having stuck the knife in deep, seemed intent to turn it until he dragged out all of Snape's insides with it. Which was terribly unfair- he was not very well able to defend himself against this kind of onslaught which was precisely why he was acting so childishly. Petulant, and unable not to have the last word because of too many reasosn of pride, he couldn't stop himself replying. It isn't that it isn't allowed... and that is the only way I've lived this long, he hissed.

I would rather be a live coward than a dead fool- no matter what my quality of life was... So he should run again. That much was decided. But now he didn't want to. He couldn't face the walk back down there or his rooms, nor could he face going back up, and whilst being stuck in a limbo of indecision at the bottom of the stairs to the turret roof was a bad idea, it was the only one he would entertain. He didn't want to review what had been said. That should be left for afterwards, alone, when he could dissect everything and try and find the real meaning... but he wanted to. He didn't know what was being said, properly, didn't understand, and he was unsettled by it. Damn them all to hell! It was, quite obviously he realised, all Albus' fault again.

Jack heard Snape leave the roof, and his final spat back at him. This only made him angrier. Sure, Snape had more than his fair share of injustice put upon him, but some was earned as well. Why couldn't he just accept the fact that he LIKED him for who he was, no strings attached. I like... Severus Snape.... he pondered to himself. The irony of that struck him dumb for a long moment, mentally and verbally as he sat there in the cold, slowly smoking. He sat there until his legs and brain ached and stiffly rising he pulled his cloak tighter around himself and headed back inside.

It was late. The Ravenclaws hardly ever broke curfew, and if one did, Snape would hear them coming. He had certain qualities any schoolmaster would have been proud of; excellent hearing to understand whispers, brilliant eyesight to catch half-hidden things, and a nose for sniffing out trouble-causers of every kind. Which, considering hiw own past, was probably something that had taken years of perfection. Or a gift. So he felt quite safe lurking in the shadows against a wall for a minute, eyes closed, listening to his heartbeat which was much too loud and a traitorous thing which had caused him too much trouble in the past and doubtless would again.

The darkness was his friend and liked him, it would blanket and smother him and he would welcome it- because it was cold and dark too. The Bloody Baron drifted down the corridor, looking for Nearly Headless Nick (who was currently in several pages of Filch's bad books) and he stopped and looked at the Potions Master, who sensed his presence and looked up. And stared. The Baron seemed not to want to disturb Snape for any reason, nodded, and moved along. The professor's breathing had calmed considerably with his reflection, and he looked from under his messy black hair, steadily. Resolved, or resigned? It was hard to tell.

He stared at the steps when he heard movement, a slightly self-deprecatory sneer tugging at one lip. He hadn't run too far. "I don't think I've told you recently," he began, his voice quiet and calmer than before, a little less harsh than normal because he was afraid he'd bruised vocal chords, if such a thing was possible. "...how much of an idiot you are, and how I completely fail to comprehend you?" He pressed his lips together and waited for a cue- to see how Jack would react. It was about as close to apologetic as he got.

Jack slowed his pace as he came down the stairs, sensing Snape nearby and as he rounded the corner and was addressed, he continued to walk past the Potions Master, nodding ever so slightly as he listened to the assessment made in his direction. When Snape stopped, he did as well and slowly turned to look back over his shoulder at the scowling man behind him on the stairs. His own expression was calm, neutral, then slowly, a wicked grin crossed his face. "That's alright Sir, I love you too..." he said with low husky tone to his voice, then turned and quickly shuffled off down the hallway, hopefully around a corner and out of hex range.

Bastard. Just wait till you see your next test, came the grumpy mental reply. There's going to be no life left in that poor wrist of yours by the time I'm finished with you... better pray Madam Pomfrey likes you... That was a little easier- mocking, tormenting, threatening came easily. Like second nature. And the rest? Ah he could wash all that off as one-upmanship and high jinks. Yep. Snape wondered briefly what the Baron was up to, just as the poltergeist he was chasing hared through the wall screaming. "STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!" Snape yelled, and turned to direct the Baron the right way after the fleeing ghost. He shook his head. This place would never be normal. Now where was I... he mused, and started making his way to the stairs nearest the Slytherin part to the castle."

2002-12-26 22:21:00

Severus Snape is the most STUBBORN, INFURIATING, and INFANTILE man I have EVER had the displeasure of knowing.

Here I thought I held that title.

Oh no.... I have been well outdone."

2002-12-28 14:21:00,
Rainy Day Study

Jack sat in a window alcove in one of the many corridors of the castle, a small, well worn book in his lap. "Lord what fools these mortals be...." he said to himself in a dramatic voice, then flipped through more pages. He was looking over his lines as Puck in the play being produced over the Winter Break. He was dubious about doing it at first, but now, since he had decided to avoid Snape and his caustic ways, he was glad for the innocent distraction. He looked over the highlighted lines, his, and muttered them over under his breath as the rain drummed ferociously on the window next to him. He paused, lifted a steaming mug to his lips and then took a long sip before continuing his studies.

Snape had, though a long and complex procedure he didn't fully understand himself, which probably involved the Fates, or at least Albus Dumbledore, who must have been in cahoots with them- ended up in the Gryffindor House Head's office. Bizzarely enough, Severous could tolerate the woman who was supposed to be his arch-enemy, or arch-rival, reasonably well, though he would refuse to let on. He sucked at his tongue angrily, sure she had put sugar in his tea. Yeuck. He was half-storming, half-walking back to his rooms, still running through the conversation in his head, analysing, as he turned a corridor, practically bumping into Jack-or his legs. It took him a moment to realise who it was but the reactionary insult had already passed his lips. "Not enough room in the library for you?"<lj-cut text ="Ready to argue redux?">

Jack slowly looked up from under his bangs at the Professor, and gave him the more bored of expressions. "Am I out of bounds, Sir?" he asked dully, putting emphasis on the last word. He gave Snape a slow blink, then returned his attention to the book in his lap with an annoyed exhale of air.

Snape was prepared to let legs being in the way pass with nothing more than a snide comment, but he would not take cheek from anyone, especially not in public, save for perhaps two people. His eyes narrowed, and he pulled to a full stop, arms by his sides. No one- even in Jack's position, would get away with that. His voice was a feral, warning growl. "No. But your legs are. Move them, now."

Jack didn't move right away. He continued to look down at his book, considering his next move. Petty, and childish were the first ideas to pop into his head, but after deciding he would be the ADULT here, he gracefully leaned back, and folded his crossed his legs in front of himself. Once that was done, he replaced the book in his lap and continued reading without missing a line. "Can Professor pass now?" he asked sweetly, still reading, turned a page.

"I don't know, I think you ego is still in the way," Snape hissed, not feeling in a particularly playful mood. He'd glanced at the dust-jacket of the book, and it was a copy of that play they were going to butcher. They chose a good author, a not-too-good playwrite and then had students perform it? Sheer lunacy. He wou;dn't give in until he mad Jack back down fully- petty, like that. And meticulous. His nostrils flared impatiently.

"Oh.... that." he said softly, still not looking up. "I left that in the Potions Classroom on the floor some time ago Sir," he commented, then closed the book, leaving it in his lap as he draped his arms on his thighs and looked over at Snape. His expression was one of apathy, and with a practiced move, he shook most of the fringe from in front of his eyes. He blinked. Waited.

"Then you must have picked up someone elses' superego, or id," Snape hissed. "I can quickly correct that for you- cleaning the cauldrons tonight ought to help you regain your balance. You can even look for your ego there," he said. Snorted. "I suppose half of the people in that shambles," he nodded to the script, "Wouldn't know a proscenium arch if it hit them in the face," he commented snidely. Immature, much? Anyone watching would not have been able to detect anything out of the ordinary with Snape- except perhaps he was treating a member of his house like he would a Gryffindor.

Jack showed no reaction to the sentence of detention. A smile slowly crept across his face. "Beg pardon Professor, but I have rehearsals tonight." he said in a voice full of regret and humility. "Professor Dumbledore has instructed us to let nothing interfere with the play, and as much as I would like to own up to my grave offenses..." he said, then his voice trailed off as he lowered his head solemnly.

"Then tomorrow dinner time will do you, I have something to brew for the Headmaster, so no lack of things to clean, and I am sure the House Elves will provide you with some sustenance." His nose wrinkled in thought of the preparation of the Wolfsbane potion fht the lycanthrope, but he dismissed the thought as swiftly as he could. "I trust that would be convenient?" he drawled, and folded his arms carefully.

Jack looked skyward as he canted his head from one side to the other while he thought, "I do believe I can make that appointed time Sir," he said easily. "Perhaps when I am done with my cleaning duties, Professor can help me with my lines." he said with a completely straight face, then continued. "I can see you as Oberon quite easily...." he commented, eyes locked with Snape's.

Snape snorted. "For one, tights do not suit me, for two, I am no-one's fairy, and for three, I would not participate in any butchery of fine language." A heavy sigh. "Great literature, heritage, and I dread to think what you will do to massacre it. Though perhaps it is better than being totally ignored..." Off on a tangent, he seemed ready to moan about this for the next hour or so. "...though if I can contribute in any way to the play not being the complete wreck it seems headed for..." A heavy snort, and he shook his head. "I despair. Tomorrow, dinnertime, in the classroom. I shall ensure something is sent down. Don't even think about being late." He got ready to leave, still grumbling incoherantly.

Jack was listening attentively, nodding in agreement to all that was said, but when Snape claimed to be "No one's Fairy," he was unable to suppress the snort that escaped from his lips. He grinned for just a moment, then forced down the amused expression as he listened to the rest of Snape's diatribe. He was going to die. He knew it.

Snape showed a face of complete despair and resignation. Why did he even bother? If Scrooge had a world-weary expression, and had to deal with one too many of the Cratchitt children pestering him to play when he was working for a living, it would possibly look something like this. Or perhaps not. "Some of us might like prancing about and making fools of ourselves, Grim, but others have our pride. Do not worry, there shall be plenty to occupy you tomorrow." If there wasn't, Snape would make more work to keep him so and serve him right. In a huff, he pulled his cloak about him. "Good day," he said, though he was sure it wasn't, and skulked off. Give them their bleeding games; he didn't need to have a part to play something he was not. And he certainly wouldn't play any of the characters in that bleeding play. Now if Albus had only chosen a better play...

Jack watched Snape as he reacted in quite an unexpected fashion, then swooshed off with his dignity in tact, or so he thought. Jack was finally able to let out the laughter he had been choking down and then sent the mental image of the two of them en flagrante delicato in the hidden tunnel, and cracked himself up so much, he fell out of the alcove, and landed on his feet as he doubled over with hysterical laughter. "Oh, you are just too much...." he chuckled to himself.

Snape was already out of sight, but his discomfit was physically tangible. Until, at least, it was followed quick on the heels with an image of exactly what kind of penance Jack was going to pay- after he'd cleaned up the mess he was going to make even worse when he made the potion tonight- he would leave everything out and not even clean up after himself as he went along. That would serve him right. And then there were other ways to make him pay... Snape had a good imagination- or a bad one, but it was active, whatever else you said of it.

He smirked. Laugh it up. You're just digging yourself a deeper hole... Severus Snape has a long memory- and he never forgets an insult. To the point of ridiculousness. But he had to start on that bleeding potion for Lupin, or he'd be at it until all hours. Better done than not. And if you want, you can bring your costume. Only so I can tell you how it is wrong of course... Bloody amateurs.... He shook his head, and turned his thoughts of resentment to those of revenge. Which was nice. He liked revenge.

Jack continued to laugh, he was far too amused to be frightened at the moment, and replied, Yes Master, I shall be there with bells and wings on my graceful form. he sent, then collected his book, and headed off at a slower pace in the general direction Snape had taken."

2002-12-28 16:13:00,
Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!

Two words. Severus Snape.

Bastard! Bloody Bastard! Bastard! Bastard.

Stop me if you have heard this before.

Bastard! Bastard! Bloody fucking Bastard!"

2002-12-29 17:30:00,
Detention builds character and calluses

Jack groaned, his back was killing him, and he tossed the soiled rag to the counter and leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. To the left of him, a pile of cleaned and dried cauldrons. To the right of him, a slightly smaller pile, along with an assortment of beakers, phials, and measuring equipment. It looked as if Snape had spent 3 days making every potion in his repetoire, and used every utensil to do it.

Jack reached a hand up to brush back the damp hair from his eyes, and grumbled to himself.

The Wolfsbane potion was decidedly messy, and when the maker was not bothered about being tidy, doubly so. Even if the Potions Master had found it very difficult to behave so- his natural reaction was to be careful and neat. But he had found, eventually, that he could quite enjoy making a mess. Which was why the entire room had been such a state. But right now, for lack of better things to do (all papers marked, all assignments sorted, all tests set) he was reading a battered copy of the play that was going to be be produced, shaking his head from time to time, and stiffling whatever ocmment he wanted to make. He licked a finger to turn the page. "Make sure your gloves are alright, that had diasulphate in..." he said without needing to look up.

Jack paused in his resting and looked at his gloves. One was fine, but the one on his left hand had a hole in the tip of the index finger from all the scrubbing he had had to do. "Bloody swell..." he muttered and pulled the glove off, checking his finger for signs of damage and finding the area surrounding the exposed area red and inflammed looking. He stared at it angrily, considering his next move carefully.

"Bicarbonate is in the middle drawer," Snape said, again without needing to look up, but this time kicking the cabinet he was referring to twice with the side of his foot. There was the faintest of smirks across hios face, and the definate air of 'did you never listen in class'? His eyes narrowed at what he was reading. It had been a while since he read this play.

Jack muttered again under his breath as he threw the damaged glove into a bin nearby, and went over to the indicated cabinet. He pulled the drawer open and began to rummage around with his good hand. "Rotten damned gloves..." he complained without looking over at Snape. He was not happy with the unjustified punishment he was being given, but he knew better than to try to argue or sweet talk his way out of it. Snape had a bee in his bonnet about something, so what was the point?

"You must have been maltreating them, Grim. They are not cheap," Snape said, bored of reading, and sitting back. Actually, they must have taken a hammering to give. No permanent damage done, he had some salve that would work after the alkali had done its job anyway. Bored. Bored he was, even watching people slave their dinner away- even watching Jack grumble and complain was doing nothing to improve his already foul mood.

Jack bit his lower lip to hold back a reply, and set to treating his finger in angry silence. The cost of replacing them was not an issue, it was other things. He decided to just keep his mind off of Snape, and the monstrous task set before him. Once he was done with the temporary first aid, he returned to his task and began to occupy his mind with other, more salacious thoughts. They weren't of anyone in particular, just the mood and acts he would rather be in right now.

Snape was not in the mood for anything other than being the most petty person he possibly could be. So with a flick of his wand, which he managed to arm himself with lightning-fast, he sent a small, plastic tub flying at Jack's head with no warning other than the flash of movememnt and sound of disturbed air. "Put that on. You'll work faster," was the only explanation. Acting up? Definately.

Jack looked up to see the tub of salve flying dead at him, and his first instinct was to reach up and catch it, but he went with his second instead. He ducked to the side, letting is zip past his head, missing him by mere inches. "Christ! Kill me why don't you?" he growled and shot a glare to Snape, then resumed his cleaning. "Speed is no substitute for proficiency," he said in a contrite tone, and resumed his tasks.

"True, but I don't want to sit here and supervise you going at two miles an hour when that could bring you up to possibly two and a half... Efficiency is better than economy," he said, and folded his arms across his chest. He was fully away he was behaving like a three year old and, to be honest, he couldn't care less. Once the reaction was provoked in him, it was nigh on impossible to shake.

"Oh... but I am looking FORWARD to spending the entire night here doing this. It will leave me far too tired to do anything else once I am done," he explained. "I shall finish up here, go for a quick rinse off then fall into bed," he said gleefully. "I am just sorry you are being kept from YOUR busy social schedule by being here..."

"Then seeing as you enjoy it that much, why not make it a monthly thing," Snape replied, not snapping in the slightest, but the malice evident even in his assumed 'jolly' tone. He could be a bastard better than practically anyone he knew. "I'm sure there's someone I know who would be more than happy to supervise you."

Jack slowly raised his expression up to meet Snape's. He was nearing the end of his rope, and set his rag down on the counter. "Why not? Because I will go to Professor Dumbledore and report this unjustified harrassment," he said cooly, and reached for a goblet of water nearby, and took a long drink.

"You can, if you like. But he gives me free rein in my house to punish my Slytherin," Snape lied. He had more or less autonomy, because he rarely had cause to be overly harsh on his house-members. He couldn't recall ever coming to blows with the Headmaster over that. Other houses, yes... "Because I understand them better than anyone else, and know what is good for them." He narrowed his eyes. "Intent on digging a deeper hole for yourself, Grim, or do you not know when to shut up and suffer?" Threatening Snape was a very bad way to go. Even if he couldn't detain you, there were always ways to make one's life hell.

Jack grinned at Snape, and slowly raised a single eye brow. "Hm...... I wonder who is the one with the hole fixation..." he mused, then with a light sigh, went back to his cleaning. He would not get into it with him, as tempting as it was. Instead, he began to entertain obscene daydreams again, pushing Snape and his mood from his mind again.

When Snape felt miserable, he wanted to make everybody suffer. Misery loved company, even if Snape didn't. His dark eyes shone with evil intent. "Yes, obviously you, and your filthy little mind for even conecting the two together," he replied, set on pushing this as far as he could, and dancing over any boundaries that should have existed. He fiddled with his wand absently.

Jack made a snort of derision, but said nothing more. He grinned wide as he continued to scrub the last of the cauldrons, and then once it was dried, he turned to the assortment of beakers next. Not nearly as many as the cauldrons, but full of stickly and disgusting left over ingredients. He pulled a face, like it was required of him, and then set to pouring them out and rinsing out the worst of them before filling a basin with soapy water to wash them.

This was taking forever, and Snape was restless. He didn't know why, but his back was up. And ever childish, petulant, annoying string had been tugged. He was one step away from pacing the room and growling. Part of it, he supposed, was what the potion was for. And how he had been forced into making it. And what it was supposed to stop... At this rate Albus would need to chastise him into behaving again, because it didn't look like he was going to calm down any time soon. He swung his legs a little under the desk where it couldn't be seen.

Whistling was a newly developed skill for Jack, so he began to warble out a random tune that was in his head while he washed the beakers with surprisingly quick efficiency, and set them one by one in a rack to drip dry. He repeatedly shook his long fringe out of his eyes, it was damp and clumping together from the steam of the sink. He pondered taking a pair of shears to it to rid himself of the trouble.

Feeling eminently justified, Snape lazily swashed his wand, and muttered; "Tacio." Which immediately silenced the racket coming from Jack. And would do until counter-spelled, or some time had passed. He looked nonchalant, and started examining his nails, not feeling the need to explain.

Jack's eyes opened wide and he stopped in mid rinse, and looked up, at Snape, gobsmacked. Bastard! he growled mentally, then after staring holes into Snape, he went back to his task at hand and decided to plot revenge later. He would give it much thought, and plan it carefully. Oh yes.

"Yes?" Snape asked aloud, tipping his head slightly to one side, making full use of his voice, and rolling it around luxuriously for best effect. He was grinnng openly, and showing a hint of sharp canines in the process. He flicked the hair on his shoulder down onto his back, purposefully being as showy and flamboyant as he could. Much like his usual self, only more so, because he had little to hide here.

Jack said nothing, thought nothing. Patience. He told himself over and over. He had plenty of that, oh yes. He made quick work of the beakers, and once they were dry, only the preparation utensils remained. He washed his hands well after draining and rinsing the sink before the last batch, and stepped over to the tray of nearly finished dinner, and snapped up a few of the remaining tidbits, and tossed them down, followed by a large drink of juice before letting out a monstrous belch, and sauntering back over to his sink.

"Practice makes perfect," Snape crooned, and stood up. Tapped the back-end (not the business end, he wasn't that daft) of his wand to his lips. Nodded once. "Ring for the House Elf to take your things, and then you may go. Next time I want it done in half the time, Grim." So he was a slavedriver, so what? He turned his back and sauntered for the door to his office. Let his hand rest on the handle. "Loquor."

Jack turned his head to follow Snape's motion with his eyes, anger and something just short of hate was burning in them. He made a noncommital grunt in reply, then looked back down at the basin as he filled it for the last time. This would go quick, then he would be out of here and far away from Snape and his petty temper. Well, a tunnel's length away, but he pushed all thoughts of that from his mind. He would wank himself blind before cozying up to him without being coerced.

Snape was stubborn enough to cut his own nose off to spite his face. And when he was acting up like this- attention seeking perhaps?- he would be killed rather than back down. Or he would make someone make him back down. The spell undone he went into his office, knowing that tonight he would be pacing the corridors again looking for people to torment. Back to his old ways then.

As soon as Snape had departed, Jack shot a glare at the closed door, and pulled out his wand. With a nearly silently muttered spell, he finished the cleaning task, and made a rapid exit of the room, heading directly for his room. He made a passing nod to those he was friendly with as he crossed the Slytherin Common Room, then headed for the showers. A long hot shower then some hidden mead before bed. Just what the doctor ordered."

2002-12-29 22:27:00,
Puck and Titania met on the meadow

No, not really.

At some stage of the evening Cho was slowly making her way back to the Ravenclaw common room; she wasn't exactly sure of the time, but it was dark. It was always dark at Hogwarts, even if it was somewhat early in the night, the school just had that feeling about it.

Or maybe Cho had that feeling about the school.

She wasn't really paying much attention to where she was going, so everything passed by without her taking any note. It wasn't as if she didn't know her way to the common room; she could have made it there blindfolded if necessary.

Cho had almost completely passed a recess when the unfamiliar color of it caught here eye - there was someone there.

Jack was sitting in the alcove, along save for a large goblet of dubious contents and a book in his lap, just as Cho passed by him, he was lifting his arm dramatically into the air, and evoking a line from the book, "Lord, what FOOLS these mortals be...." he said in a projected voice, then caught sight of Cho, and stopped, mouth still agape. He blinked, and just, sat there.

It surprised Cho that she wasn't very startled when she heard Jack's voice speak it's words; she had expected herself to be on edge ever since her last note to him.

The silence between them was not exactly comfortable for her, especially when he blinked silently, but she just gave him a small smile of amusement and stepped in a little closer to him.

" 'The noise they make'," she said quietly, thinking that it may or may not have been the next line of the play; she had never enjoyed Shakespeare, and yet he was a very famous Muggle writer apparently.

Jack grinned at her, his movements and reactions seemed slowed somehow, and he looked down into his book, and finding that she had delivered the correct line, he glanced at his next, then recited it to her, and promptly broke out in a snorting fit of laughter. "What a bunch of tripe..." he said recklessly and if Cho were close enough to him yet, she would be able to smell that is was no pumpkin juice he was swigging down. When he was able to stifle his laughter a moment later, he placed his arm across his waist, and bowed to her, "Ah... tis fair Titania, Queen of the Fairies...."

"Not quite," she shook her head, keeping the same smile upon her lips.

He seemed to be a little more inebriated than she was used to him being, not that he was ever really stiff and formal, but he was definitely relaxed now, and there was a familiar smell to the thing he was drinking, though she couldn't quite place it.

"Are you looking forward to the play?" she asked neutrally, there no point in bringing anything else up at that point.

Jack locked his eyes with hers, and nodded slowly. "I suppose. I have SO MUCH to occupy my mind now... Did you hear?" he asked, then paused to sip from his goblet before continuing, "I have my mind back. I had an Epiphany at the oddest of moments when I was in counsel with... someone..." he said glancing off to the side and letting his voice drop down to a mutter. There was a pause, then he quickly looked to her again. "I have your journal, it was an odd gift to give, and I haven't decided yet if I want to journey into the heartfelt pornography I am sure that lies within it's pages..." he said with a dangerous crafty smile.

"Don't worry, Jack," she said wryly, "I keep all my heartfelt pornography in the back of my school books."

Cho hoped that her response seemed natural enough, for she was quite surprised to learn that his memory had reappeared. I suppose it's not something that gets announced school-wide, she considered silently, wondering if perhaps her gift to him really had been made with too much haste? She shrugged that thought off and tried not to think of it; she had made her decision.

"Or in the realm of reality," she added as an afterthought; a total lie, of course, but it didn't seem any more shocking than anything else she'd said before.

Jack nodded, still keeping her eyes with his, and she could tell by his expression he wasn't buying her act. Not in the least. "Well, I would like to know what made you think that your journal would be the perfect gift for me?" he asked, then quickly leaned back, still watching her closely. "As you know, one man, or WOMAN'S journal is like any essay on history, biased and slanted to suit the author's point of view and belief system. I am, like I said, still pondering just HOW much you think of me, and how..."

"If you ever read it you'll find out," she replied with a slight shrug, "though I think you already know. You don't have to read it, it might sit at the bottom of a trunk for the fifty years for all the difference it would make. When I gave it to you I thought there were still pieces of the puzzle missing - and even if I didn't really know anything, any information was better than none."

Cho took a quick breath and concentrated on not feeling defensive about what she had done - she hadn't done anything except try to help him. Was it a selfish gift? Did she only give it to him just so she could know that he knew how she felt? She really couldn't question herself anymore about it now, but she was certain that it was not something bad that had motivated her to give it to him.

Jack tilted his head to the side, considering her carefully, and then reached his hands out to take hers in his. He gave them a gentle squeeze. "I would prefer I think," he said looking her dead in the eyes again, and moving his face ever so close to hers, "I would prefer to hear it from thine own sweet lips my Fairy Queen. The written word be worth a thousand to the picture, but I can't imagine what the spoken word would hold to the cold scrawlings on parchment." There, glove thrown down. He wasn't blinking.

"I, ah," Cho stammered, suddenly feeling very nervous and very unfamiliar with what was happened.

They'd done this sort of thing before, hadn't they? You won't even bring yourself to think it! Cho told herself, being quite certain that it should have been easier. She wasn't a total novice, it wasn't like she hadn't had wizards try things on with her before, it wasn't like she hadn't done the same either.

"My words are still my own even if I don't say them," she said quietly, turning her face so she wouldn't have to look into his unblinking eyes anymore. Please, don't make me say it, she begged to herself, since she certainly didn't have the nerve to even ask him at that stage.

One of Jack's hands left her, and touched the side of her cheek, turning her face back to his. He wasn't forceful, but then he really didn't need to be. Eye to eye contact again, unblinking. "Tell me Cho. You know you want to. You know you would rather whisper it into my mouth than have my eyes read it from a cold page..." he whispered, squeezing the hand in his in a tight, reassuring manner. "Speak what is in your heart, evil or divine my dear...." he said in a breathy tone.

Cho sighed loudly, out of desperation and frustration, why did everything have to be hard?

What should she tell him? What, of all the pages in her journal, would he want to know first? That she'd failed to tell him there was a Slytherin wizard he said he belonged to? That she'd kept that information from him because ... because? Because of the exact reason she seemed to be there right now? To tell him how she felt, he knew it already. He knew and yet he was insisting she say it. Did that make it more real? More acceptable? Less pathetic? More pathetic? She couldn't bear it if this was just another way for him to tell her no.

She felt like she could cry, but she wouldn't. It would make things even worse.

"What can I say?" she finally spoke her thoughts aloud, taking a deep breath before continuing, "that I wanted you for so long? That I've kept things from you? That I could have died I was so happy when you kissed me? Or that it distressed me for so long afterwards? Where should I start?"

Jack's expression softened at those words, and he blinked, but that was all the relief he would give to her. He still held her hand in his, then slowly ran his tongue across his lips before answering her. "Why do you want me Cho. From what I know of you, and your past pairings, I am so not the type of man you want. You kept from me just those very things, am I right? You kept the darkest parts of me from me so that you could have the parts of me you liked or was it something darker?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Perhaps you LIKED what was dark about me, the dangerous, secret and perverted parts of me the most, and wanted to keep that to yourself, and not allow me to return to that?" he asked of her, then lifting his free hand up to his neck, he pulled down the collar of his shirt, exposing the silver serpent that slept there. (m)

"I may want you Cho. I may want you so badly I can taste your lips, and the perfume of your desire upon your skin, but this prevents me from having you, or any other but the one that enslaved me." he said with a bitterness to his voice. Then quickly he pulled her hand forward, and pressed it down into his lap, onto his groin. "Do you feel that Cho? That is what you do to me, now and many times in the past, but it cannot be." he whispered in a choked tone, then pulled her hand away with his, pressing it to the cold stone of the window seat. "I have to live in the cold, like this rock, but you do not."

"I live there too," she said, her voice cracking with the strain of trying not to cry and taking in all the things he had just done and said, "it's not quite the same place, but I am there. You're not the only one who suffers, Jack, you're not the only person who has ever had terrible things happen to them. And maybe things have been worse for you, but that doesn't mean you've got a monopoly on pain and solitude!"

Cho yanked her hand back and clasped it tightly to her other, hoping that gripping her hands together would stop her from shaking and help her say what she had to, whatever that was ...

"How dare you presume to know my heart?" she frowned, her throat was beginning to hurt quite badly, "accuse me of all people to care for things dark? It's not possible, it's impossible, it's ..." her voice trailed away softly and she shook her head a few times more, still clasping her hands together.

"That thing on your neck," she spat out, regarding it coolly, "Don't you think I'd know what kind of dark things must be related to that? Don't you think I'd know that only someone much older than we are could have put that on you?"

Cho took a half-step back and crossed her arms, lowering her voice to a whisper and glowering at him, "don't you think I know that there's only one person who could have done that to you?" She widened her eyes ever so slightly and returned the tone of her voice to something midway between normal and languid, "there aren't many adults around here, Jack, and there's only one who bears the sign of the serpent."

Jack's eyes flared at that last statement of fact, and he nodded ever so slowly, his eyes trained on hers again. "Yes, clever girl." he said in a low dark tone. "And just what do you think such a one would do if he found another's hands on his property?" he asked of her. "I may want someone else. God knows right now, after the things he has done, I would love to lie with another, but I can't! It is impossible without pain and perhaps even death coming to them. Do you recall Victor Maxwell, Cho?" he asked, then simply nodded his head. "He trespassed where he did not belong." he said then pushing off of the shelf with his hands, and landing nimbly on his feet in front of her.

"I have to live with that death and so many others on my soul." he hissed, then suddenly, the anger melted from his face, his expression went slack, and he looked at her with a new expression, pain, hurt, and regret as he lifted his hand to cover his mouth, but not enough to prevent him from speaking, which he did in a low whisper. "Lord, what have I done to you my dear?" he asked, horror showing in his eyes now. "What have I done?" he repeated.

Cho took another stunned step backwards, watching Jack change so quickly, it wasn't quite real. His horrified voice and his sincere eyes were burning into her, but at that very moment she didn't have another word to speak; she had already said far too much.

"I would never trespass against you," she said with a frightfully quiet voice. She couldn't respond to the last two things he had said - what had he done to her? There didn't seem to be any words that could do justice to whatever it was - it was everything she wanted and all the things she feared at once.

Jack made a hurt, sobbing sound and fell down onto his knees in the hallway at her feet. He covered his face with his hand to muffle the sounds he made, but they echoed off of the stone of the hall anyway. "God.... I ruin everything. I hurt everyone I touch.... I can't just let it be, I have to ruin and kill everything and everyone...." he sobbed, his shoulders heaving.

Her mouth opened to speak, to say something to convince him otherwise, but no words came. The sight of him on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, it was pathetic.

Yet it touched her heart like everything about him did, and she hated herself for giving into her compassion for him. No, she disagreed, it wasn't compassion, it was the other feelings she had for him that made her give in.

Getting down on her knees she knelt in front of him a tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, "please don't cry, Jack, you haven't ruined anything."

Jack flinched at the soft touch on him, and he scooted backward so fast he slammed into the wall under the window box, and landed on his arse. He looked at her with a terrified expression. "You have to go! He's coming... I can feel it." he said with a wide eyed stared and a shaky voice. "You have to leave!" he pleaded with her, then tried to get to his feet again, looking for all the world like a panicked and trapped animal.

"Who's coming?" she frowned, getting back on her feet and tacking a few steps away to give him some space. He seemed so afraid, and that in itself worried her since he was not used to seeing him behave so erratically.

Jack stopped as he was already making to run in the direction of the dungeons, he gaped at her, not understanding why she didn't. "HIM, the one that owns THIS!" he said gripping the Ouroboros and pulling on it's unyielding form. "The one that owns.... me!" he rasped, then let go of the tiny silver viper and put his hands on her shoulders, "Run to your room you foolish girl!" he commanded, then grabbing his book from the alcove with a quick swipe, he tore off running down the hall toward the lower levels of the castle.

Cho's jaw dropped as she watched him run away, it was the most unreal reaction to anything she had ever seen. This time she wasn't going to chase after him; it felt like the end.

"I don't have to run," she told herself aloud, shaking her head and slowly returning to her path.

I'm a Ravenclaw, I don't run, it's not even eleven, and I'm allowed to be out at this time.

And with that last thought she continued to make her way up to the Ravenclaw common room.

2002-12-30 11:20:00,
Who is the more mental?

I am not sure. Last night I spent the early part of my evening playing scullery maid to Snape, who I am sure at the cost of my very soul, dirtied every damn piece of aparatus in that dungeon of his just to give me more to do.

And why? What transgression did I commit NOW that was so heinous to deserve such treatment? I was sitting in a bloody window alcove READING up for the play and he happened to walk by.

Does he often forget WHO he is tormenting? I mean, when I am out of bounds, and deserving of a Detention, fine, bring it on, but does he SERIOUSLY think he can just push me down under his thumb when it suits him because he is Severus Snape? Because he is my Head of House? Because he has me collared with his family heirloom and has the power to bend me over and bugger me when ever the desire arises in him?

Apparently so.

Well, I think that an attitude adjustment is due for him as well. He will not find me so willing and accomodating now. He will have to bind me and take me by force as he has in the past. To Hell with you Severus Snape! I will escort you there myself.

2002-12-30 19:20:00,
All the world is a stage... etc., etc., etc.

Well, the first of the gatherings for the Play is complete. I am Puck. Yes, we shall pause for the laughter of my contemporaries alive and dead to roll over that.

Richard Montague, Slyth 7th year is Oberon. I made a comment about him being the King of the Fairies. He was not amused. In any case, the parts have been cast, I get to put "Magic Juice" in the eyes of many of my peers.

This, could be really really fun if I were to live up to my Heritage as a Marauder...

As ever.

2002-12-31 11:53:00,
Happy New Year

Yes, so they say. They are planning something in the Great Hall for all of the Holiday orphans of course who have stayed behind during the break. I think I shall pass. The whole "let's drink butterbeer, and gorge ourselves until midnight, then nervously look for someone to snog" thing does not appeal to me.

Now I know why as a youth I always left here during the Holidays and went home to my house or a friends... I suppose I long ago lost "The Holiday Spirit." go figure that.

Still no communications with Severus to speak of. I get a passing snark, or mental jab via the Ouroboros, but no commands to come clean pots or be his emotional whipping post. Am I beginning to miss that? Honestly, parts of it, yes. He may not realize it, but we ARE contemporaries, and as twisted as our current relationship is, we at least have some common history between us, pity I can't discuss it with him.

Well, I shall attend the dinner they are planning, I am always up for a feast, then I will slip away back to my dorm, perhaps the Tunnel even and brew up something more potent than Butterbeer and numb myself into the New Year."