Sirius Black's IC Journal for the Slytherin House RPG Game - July 2002

2002-07-07 22:02:00,
Owl Post,

An owl arrived today from Remus. He is so kind to continue to write to me with some frequency. His letters are filled with mindless prattle, jokes, recollections of better times past. I am sure he does this on purpose. He seeks to provide a diversion from the normal dark thoughts that fill my mind, and to distract us both from "other" random thoughts that go for the most part, unspoken.

Not spoken in words anyway. Mostly in looks, stolen glances, and soft sighs when we ARE in the same room. Regret, secrets, and desire. It's all there just below the surface of the facade of live. My life has so many facades, I need a program to keep them all straight.

Which Sirius am I today? Brother? Friend? Lover? Cad? Murderer? Fugitive? Godfather? Myth? I have more titles than any man is entitled too, and none of the benefits of any of them.

But I am again, wandering from the main topic. Remus' Owl. It was a pleasant detour from my day, and I will of course reply in an equally cheery and nonsensical fashion. This is the only way the charade can continue.

2002-07-12 16:27:00,
The Dog Days of Summer,

It's hot. Bloody hot. The sun beats down, even through the tree boughs overhead that provide shade. The humidity is more oppressive, and I can feel the sweat running down the center of my back as I sit here writing in this battered notebook.

Some things never change, the journal is one. It is the only friend I can count on unconditionally. It would only betray me should it fall into... the wrong hands.

The iced mead I have provides some relief from the heat here, but not much. Relief and moments of joy are far and few between these days. When I allow myself an idle thought, it turns to loved ones of course. Harry, and his friends, Remus. Those are the living ones. James, Lily.

I suppose it's selfish to wonder how often they think of me. Once in a while I would hope when I am not in their midst.

God Sirius, you are being such a prat. I need to put the damn journal down, finish the meade and fall into a dreamless sleep until the heat of the day passes, and night comes again. Hogsmeade is sparsely populated this time of year, and Knockturn Alley even less. Splendid. Perhaps I shall pay a visit to my favorite tavern. In disguise of course.

2002-07-13 14:52:00,
Owl from Harry.

"An owl came into my room this evening, a small tawny scrap of a bird, bearing of course, grim news. The note from Harry told of the death of the Head Girl at Hogwarts, a Slytherin by the name of Lizy. Harry perhaps suspects something dark and sinister. He writes that she drank something that was poisoned while on a visit to Hogsmeade and efforts by her Weasley boyfriend to save her life, failed. This is truly sad. I hate to see the loss of life in anyone so young. Even a Slytherin. Well, perhaps there is ONE I would still like to see poisoned or roasted on a spit in his own juices...

Anyway... A nagging part of me wants to look into this. The poisoning of ANY Hogwart's student is not a good turn, especially if Harry were to be the eventual target.

Then, there is the realistic side of thought. I am still a wanted man with a Death Sentence looming over my head. My only quest is to remain alive, my only responsibility is to watch over Harry and see that he lives to a ripe old age. 

I wish Remus was here. He would lend a sage voice I am sure. Perhaps I shall send an owl to him, and get his input on the matter.

2002-07-13 22:29:00,
A close shave....

Back in his dark room at the Inn, Sirius writes in his journal...

Well Sirius, you nosey git, you almost got yourself discovered again... Down by the lake this evening spying on those kids. I admit it. I get lonely sometimes, and just hearing voices other than the screams in my head is a welcome thing. There was an attractive girl swimming in the lake, then she was joined by another student, a boy I recognize from the Quidditch Games. Diggory I think his name is... 

Anyway, I was found by another young girl, dark haired, who tried to pet me. I panicked, ran off and twisted my damn ankle. She was kind enough to help me free me and bind up my leg with a strip of her robe. Her friends joined her, and before I became the Castle Pet, I ran off. As I sit here now in my room, drinking my mead, I once again wonder what all of our lives would be different if someone had snapped Tom Riddle's neck back when he was in Hogwarts

Ah well. Until they invent a powerful Time Travel spell, we are trapped in this world of now. God, I need to write less and drink more. 

SB

2002-07-15 14:23:00,
A new plan....

I received an owl from Albus last night, it seems he wants to again draw me closer to Hogwarts to keep and eye on Harry, and the other mysterious going's on at the school. With this letter came a recipe for a potion that he wants me to take.

It seems that this Potion, Mentismorphus, like Poly Juice would alter my looks considerably. Only, in this case, I would not assume the form of another, I would regress in outward age appearance AND in addition I would BECOME another person as well. Albus has mentioned a name to me, Jack Grim. The name does not ring a bell with me, but I am sure it has some deeper origin coming from Albus. So I will be young again, and while still being Sirius, I will also be... someone else. That is a bit unnerving.

However! I would be young again. I cannot begin to suppress the grin that is crossing my face and the wicked To Do List that is filling my cob webbed brain. This will be a serious undertaking to be sure, but that doesn't mean it can't be fun...

Albus and Minerva will be the only ones to know of this little caper. Albus says he will come to Hogsmeade to acquire the needed ingredients for the potion and then bring them to me. He says I will be added as mid-term transfer student who was living with Muggle Parents in the United States. Leave it up to that tricky old coot.

But then.... why wait? Why not go where the supplies are rich for the taking and in hand? The school is partially abandoned for the Summer, and the Potions Slime Master has plenty of stock on hand in that dungeon of his... 

I think it is time to put on the dog, and go shopping....

2002-07-15 23:23:00,
Midnight work....

Sirius waits for the middle of the night, and then slips down into the dungeons. He listens as he pads down the abandoned halls, and moves closer to Snape's' Rooms. When he reaches there, he hears, and more importantly smells NOTHING that should cause trouble, so he shifts to human form and pulls out his want to begin work on picking the lock.

Sirius swears under his breath as he tries spell after spell, and passwords over and over until he gets the right one that unlocks the door to the classroom. "Ha!" he grins, then slips inside.

He shivers as he crosses the classroom, so many memories come rushing back as he traverses the damp floor. The smells are like memories as well. He had forgotten the stench of this place... He shakes his head, and moves on to the job at hand.

Sirius carefully moves along the walls lined with gruesome filled jars, and one by one takes the ingredients he needs and puts them into a bag slung around his shoulder.

Sirius finishes gathering what he needs, then pauses, just pauses at the classroom door for a second, considering playing a prank on the Greasy old git...

"Later... later for that my old 'friend'..." he smirks, then leaves the classroom on silent feet, then the castle, and returns to his room at the Inn.

2002-07-16 10:54:00,
Double, double, toil and trouble.... 

As I sit here on the balcony of my small room, a cauldron squats over a small magickal flame curing the potion within. The smell is odd, not completely repulsive but not as enticing as a butterbeer either. The color is a pale green, and slick, like oil on a wet street. According to the recipe for it. It will last a week, then another dose will need to be taken. Marvelous. I suppose I will let Albus provide the ingredients from now on. Breaking into Snape's office on a weekly basis, while fun... could be an unnecessary risk. We both know I take far too many of those as it is. 

Ah... A knock at the door.... Let me get my wand, and gun...

Well, Albus just left, and after the chastising I received for stealing the ingredients for the potion, he gave me good honorary marks for the quality of the potion as I finished it. I couldn't talk him into staying while I tried it out. I wonder why that is? Plausible deniability? Perhaps? Well it's time to check the proof in the pudding... Bottoms up.

2002-07-16 12:42:00,
The boy in the mirror....

Oh GOD did that hurt! I am awake again. Now. It is dark outside so I have been out for a while. I ache all over and now that I look in the mirror, I can see why...

My God, as I look at myself, I can't believe what I am seeing... I am ... young again! Gone is the stray grey hair, the lines of age and worry that marked my face from the time in Azkaban. Gone is the haunted look, the dead eyes.

I have my youth back...

The more I think about this, the more my body begins to tingle and my brain spins. I am YOUNG again, I can BE YOUNG, reclaim the time taken from me wrongfully.

The more I think about what I can DO now, and what is OPEN to me, the harder I get.... Sorry... can't write any more at the moment, this needs... attention.

2002-07-16 15:21:00,
New Sensation,

Well, NOTHING improves a mood like a fast wank-off. Even after that, I am still trembling. Still on fire. I can't stay in here any longer, I have to get out. I need to breathe clean, free air.

Hogsmeade and all it's dark and delirious temptations and delights awaits. The rain has cleared as if by divine intervention, and the warm summer night beckons to me. Who am I to resist?

More later....

2002-07-16 15:03:00,
Meet Jack Grim...

An Evening in Hogsmeade. A joint RP with Sirius, Snape and Harry Potter.

The rain from the summer storm had cleared away, giving way to a beautiful evening in Hogsmeade. The air was clean, crisp, and full of smells. The new, strange young man in town strolled along the streets, a wide grin on his face.

Wizards and witches trundle down the streets going about their daily lives. The crowd mills happily... until it suddenly starts to part as if on an unsaid order, swarming like a hive of bees about a solitary figure stalking through their ranks in a cloud of black robes.

As, Harry sits in a shop looking out the window he sees the disorder as a young man about the age of 15 walking around.

The young man strolls down the main street, looking in all the shop windows. He pauses long to gaze into the Quidditch Supplies Shoppe, eyeing the Firebolt in the window. "That is one nice broom..." he smirks.

"Bankers! Those aren't allowed in school! If I see you with those later there'll be trouble!" the lanky form bellows at a retreating frame whose head bows. The Professor snarls and continues walking, passing the Quidditch shop

As Harry kept looking out the window the disorder began to calm a little so he went out to see if it was over. Then he saw the young man again and thought to himself >>Is that the new student?<< He was lean, tall, longish black hair, light eyes. Harry tried to approach him as the crowd pushed him away. 

The young man turned from looking at the Quidditch window, the crowd getting a bit oppressive, and, unnerving for him. So he shoves his way through the crowd with ease until he collides with a black cloth wall, "What the fuck?!" he snarls as he gets caught up in the yards of black material, then a scent reaches his nose as he flips the robes off of him.

Two pale, balled fists rest on the Potion Master's hips, even though his robes are disarrayed and fall about him in a rather ruffled fashion. The almost-squawk of anger has been choked down into a growl and he narrows his eyes to look down at the youth standing before him, eyes narrowing and staring at the face obscured by an unruly dark mop of hair. "I trust... you have... an explanation for this," a deadly voice purrs menacingly. 

As Harry saw Snape he didn't dare to approach. He backed away slowly and ran into the Quidditch shop. Maybe Snape caused all this disorder and not that guy, he thought.

As soon as he heard the voice, a chill ran up his spine, and his stomach contorted into a knot. Snape. He didn't even need to look up to see who it was. He KNEW. Deciding to avoid a confrontation, for now, he replied, "Sorry Gramps..." Sirius muttered with a smirk, and with a quick skirting motion, circumvented Snape and ducked into the Quidditch shop itself, knowing Snape would have no business in there. 

The youth dashed off with surprising agility leaving a somewhat startled Snape to clutch at the air where he had just been, cursing something that would have made even Minerva blush as he watched the fleeting form in impotent rage. Jaw tight he cast about for somebody, anybody, on whom to take out his ire. 

As Harry saw the youth come in the Quidditch shop in a rush he thought the youth wanted an autograph. Harry was like normal and looked at some broom accessories. The youth had a smirk on his face but was panting at the same time.

Sirius looked over his shoulder, out the window at the fuming form of Snape, laughing under his breath. Once a Marauder, always one. Then he looked forward, and found himself next to, Harry. His grin returned, and he decided to try out the new trick. "Hey! You're that Harry Potter guy aren't you?" he smiled. 

"Yes, I am. Pardon me but, who are you? Are you the new 5th year at Hogwarts? You seem very familiar but yet I do not know who you are" said Harry. 

Sirius for just a second thought that maybe he had blown this, apparently there was already talk of a new student. Oh well, no time like the present to pull a prank on your Godson of all people. Sirius held out his hand, smiling wide. "Right. I am a transfer student to Hogwarts. I WAS going to school in America, I am going to be a fifth year. Starting in the summer to get settled. I'm Jack Grim." he says with a smile. 

A small boy carrying a broom way to big for him teeters past the two students, overbalancing and nearly knocking into Jack. He makes his way over to the counter to the intense amusement of the shopkeep who belly-laughs loudly. 

"Are you OK?" asked Harry holding his hand out to help Jack. "You obviously know who I am," said Harry, " Welcome to Hogwarts!" 

"I am BETTER than OK," he grins wide, shaking the boy's hand, then letting go. "I've even heard of you in America..." he says with a smirk, then elbows Harry in the ribs, and whispers, "So, got a girlfriend yet?" 

"No I don't have one." said Harry . "When I was in the states everyone used to tease me when I spoke" said harry changing the subject. 

Jack smiles warmly, "Well, if anyone gives you any trouble, you just call on me." he says, proudly flexing a toned arm, showing off his muscle. "I like you Harry, and I won't let anyone pick on you." 

"Thanks." said Harry with a smile. 

As the two boys are deep in conversation the rotund keep herds out the small boy under the large broom, one hand on his back to steer him for he cannot see where he is going. As he approaches the two he asks in a friendly manner, "May I help you at all, Sirs?" 

Jack turns and looks up at the man, a grin on his face, "Yeah, I want to take that Firebolt for a ride." he says with a confident tone in his voice. "Can I?" 

The small man's round face looks a little worried. "Well, it isn't really advised to test-drive the brooms here in Hogsmeade... If you wished to find a match it would be advisable to find a place more suited...." 

Jack laughs, and pats the shopkeeper on the shoulder, "It's OK, I will get my Uncle to buy me one for Christmas, thanks anyway." he says, then turns to Harry. "I should get going, I need to get some stuff for school. I will be seeing you at the school soon enough, right?" he asks, clapping Harry on the shoulder. 

"Sure you will be seeing me as this term starts soon," said Harry. 

Jack grabs Harry's hand, and presses something into his palm, before shaking it, and slipping out of the store. "See you 'round Potter!" he calls back from the street. 

"Cheerio." said Harry. He felt something on his hand. When he got out of the store heading for Hogwart's he looked at his hand to find some kind of key.

2002-07-16 19:29:00,

Well that was fun....,"I am pausing in my mischief, and Marauding to enjoy some dinner at the Three Broomsticks. It is nice to be sitting here, in the open, one of my old haunts and be... normal for a change. It was funny running into Snape today. God, he still is the same as he ever was... Pathetic.

Funnier yet was running into Harry. He was as always. I need to give that boy some pointers on mischief, or perhaps, not. Any way... I lifted a key from the shopkeeper and palmed it to Harry. We will see if he figures it out on his own...

Snape... I can't stop laughing over the look on his face. He is more wound up than ever. This is truly going to be an interesting year.

2002-07-18 14:28:00,
Judgment day....

The morning broke sunny, even if my mood did not. I still cannot get it settled in my mind that this plan of Albus' will work. As I sit here on the edge of my dingy bed for the last time. I behold the large trunk marked in gold with my new initials, JLG.

I know what it contains, everything a boy of 16 could need for his year at Hogwarts. I am quite sure it is devoid of Mead or any other of my bad habits. Oh well. I am a Marauder, no matter what skin I am in. Be I Jack, Sirius, or Grim Hound. I will always get what I desire.

The clock in Hogsmeade is chiming ten. I am supposed to be at Hogwarts at noon for my sorting. I had better get going.

2002-07-18 15:27:00,
The Sorting Hat... redux,

An IC Joint post with Snape, and Padfoot.

Jack walked along slightly behind Minerva as she lead him through the castle, and up the stairs to the upper floors of the Castle. How many times in his youth had he come this way, always as a prisoner of mischief, and guilty party? This was a new experience however, this was the sorting ceremony for Jack L. Grim. New Hogwarts 5th year.

Professor McGonagall muttered the password with a calm face, smiling slightly at the boy as she did so. "Bubble gum," the word sounded a little odd coming from the matronly woman but she waved the youth in before making to sit with the other three House Heads, settling her hands in her lap as she watched intently.

Jack gave a polite smile to the House Heads in here, including the seething Snape, then glanced at the hat resting on the battered stool before Dumbledore's Desk. He then looked up to Albus, and received a smile highlighted with twinkling eyes. This did little to relieve the pounding of his heart in his chest, or the sweat running down his back under his robes. What if the Sorting Hat WASN'T fooled by Albus' plan and potion?

The four sitting, waiting on the hat's judgment were all still, but their gazes were penetrating, evaluating. Forming judgments. McGonagall looked peaceful, Snape annoyed and bored, the others impassive as they wait for the upcoming song.

"Whether for a crowd or just one /All you do is put me on /And we'll soon see what lies up in your head! / Whether Gryffindor stout and strong / Or if in Ravenclaw you belong / You see I know just where it can be read! /Hufflepuffs work day and night / But if your fond of hands that sleight / Perhaps the Slytherins classrooms will be fed! /So now why do you delay / There really is no better way / The hat the Founders left to choose when they were dead."

Jack rolled his eyes, and sighed at the song as the hat sang. It's prose never improved. He then watched as Professor Dumbledore himself picked up the hat, and then indicated the stool with a wave of his other hand. "If you will please have a seat on the stool Jack, we shall see just what house here at Hogwarts the Sorting Hat will put you in. Jack smiled, and swaggered over to the stool. This was going to be easy.

In the corner the phoenix Fawkes shuffled itself on his perch, settling his wings on his back. His plumage was still very bright from a recent rebirth and dark, bright eyes watched the procedure with interest. 

Jack sat down on the stool, and closed his eyes as for the second time in his life, and a first for Hogwart's surely, the Hat would sort him again. As soon as the Hat touched his head, it began to talk in his mind. "Well... an interesting one here. Older than most I see..." it said. Jack's heart skipped a beat in his chest. "A Fifth year you will be, but where to place one of such age?" "Gryffindor you soggy old bowler" Jack thought to himself, and the Hat laughed. "Soggy and Old am I?" it replied, then ignoring the slight, continued on. "Gryffindor... perhaps. I see a lot of their attributes in you, but then, ambition, and a wicked streak as well..." Jack sighed, blanking out the blather of the hat, and concentrated on one thought alone. "Gryffindor. Gryffindor."

Snape was still glaring at the boy as he was sorted, one long finger extended across his chin as he peered down his sizable nose. Ah. Another Mr. Perfect. At least this way Potter will have competition. His eyes then unfocussed, as if his concentration was wandering, a tired, worn-out appearance descending momentarily, but unnoticed by the others. With the slightest of jerks he dragged his attention back to the room, snarling at his own lack of control.

It was only the shouting of the hat that brought him out of his daydream with a shock. "Slytherin!" The unexpected call was a jolt to Jack, and his eyes shot open as the Sorting Hat was pulled from his head. He turned, perhaps a little too eagerly, and looked at Dumbledore for an explanation. Albus was giving him the same merry expression he wore most of time. As if he had EXPECTED this to happen. "Slytherin house it shall be..." he said with a smile.

The Potions Master's considerable training was the only thing that kept him in his seat, that and the slight pressure of the table on his knees as he almost knocked it out of the way. Eyes wide, he managed to stand at the same time as the other Heads, all of whom were smiling guardedly, all looking a little surprised, but perhaps not totally shocked. "Congratulations, Mr. Grim," Minerva managed as the others shook his hand. They turned to leave, Albus, Jack and Severus on their own. The Head of Slytherin was not his usual smug self on hearing of a new charge; instead his eyes flashed like lightning, nostrils flaring in anger as he stood, demanding something from Albus with his eyes and refusing to look at Jack. 

Jack himself traded looks between Snape and Albus. .. This CAN'T be happening!! Gryffindor! I'm a Gryffindor! This means I will be under Snape's watch!! He remained silent, if paler than he was before, and stood there waiting for further instruction. 

Snape was still standing like some great immovable force, glaring enough to unseat even most cats, Animagi or not, in an almost identical pose to that Jack had adopted, waiting for him to sort the matter out, not saying anything.

Albus was the first to speak, he placed a hand on the Potion Master's shoulder and smiled, "Is something the matter Severus? Have you forgotten the password for Slytherin House, or do you have something you wish to discuss with me?"

Snape's jaw stopped jamming upwards until it ground tooth against tooth, and instead hung slack, not even registering, for once, the physical contact Albus was giving him. "Discuss? But surely, Albus, you cannot... Cannot expect me to.... he isn't Slytherin -in!" he finally finished, a little lamely. 

Jack looked up at the two men, who were only slightly taller than he was, and lamely offered his own input, "If there is a problem... Could I.... could the Hat, try again?" he heard himself say, and once again realized just how totally this potion was rearranging parts of his psyche.

The usually... stoic Snape was by now clutching and unclutching his hands, their palms slick with cool sweat. He resolutely didn't alter his gaze at all, not even moving to recognize the boy's words, hanging from Albus' every breath instead. 

Albus looked away from Snape's skull boring glare and pulled a golden pocket watch out of his pocket. He opened the lid, and then checked the time. "Ah, time for Tea," he remarked as the big hand was indeed pointing to "tea" instead of a number. He looked back up at Severus, and gave him a wink. "Get the boy settled into your house Severus, then come join me for tea. It will cheer your mood. 

Stock-still a moment longer, the professor turned on a knife-edge, feet clicking together as he stormed from the room, shoulders high. "Follow me," he managed in a guttural growl, storming along on his long legs without looking back at either of them. 

Jack gave Albus one last look of the condemned, hoping for something, anything from the old man in the way of a life line. Dumbledore merely waved to him with that smile of his, and said, "Welcome to Hogwarts Mr. Grim." Jack shuddered, and turning, fell in quick step behind Snape, and followed him down hall after hall until he stopped. 

"Acerbic," came the clear, perfectly clipped and enunciated tones of the Professor who then continued to storm into the Slytherin Common Room. The students having been cleared out, it was rather tidier than usual, but with a cold, unhomely air to it. Without speaking or looking to see if he was being followed Snape practically bull-charged up to a bed where Jack's things already lay in a tidy pile. "Bed. Affairs. Common Room," this with a wave in the direction they had just come from. "Questions?" 

Jack looked up at Snape, and managed to swallow the knot in his throat that was threatening to choke off all of the air he was breathing. "No, Sir." he squeaked out. He wasn't having to role play any of this. Despite who he was, who he had BEEN three days ago, he was terrified. Azkaban was a vacation compared to what lay ahead for him here. He knew that already. "I think I can take it from here." he added. 

"My office is in the Potions Class," Snape continued, voice raw with anger, pent-up frustration and sheer exhaustion was devoid of any of the charm it could usually boast. "When the Prefects are back they will assist you. No doubt you will soon learn the ropes." A cruel, heartfelt sneer followed. "Slytherin is not for the faint of heart, Grim. I expect the best from my students. The best." He leaned in closer to ram his point home, cloak falling forwards to fall in waves at his sides, the stoop shadowing his eyes further. "Do as you are told, and you could do far. Do not, or fail to show me the respect I demand..." the comment was left dangling as he stepped back, deeper into the shadows, and was off. 

Jack opened his mouth to voice that he WOULD be all of the things that were expected of him, and more, but there was no one to say it to, only the flap of retreating cloth was heard, then deadly, tomblike silence. Silent except for the blood pounding in his ears, and the accompanying racing of his heart. Once Snape was gone, he fell back onto his bed, looking up at the canopy overhead. Green and Silver. He shuddered. He had always wanted to get into Slytherin House to have a snoop around, and now that he was here, all he wanted to do was run.",The telltale pounding of my heart.,scared

2002-07-18 16:23:00,
"Slytherin, Day One",

The shock is wearing off. The cold, gut wrenching fear is waning, and I am left with Panic. Pure and simple. I thought my former.... internment was frightening. That was NOTHING compared to this and what lies ahead for me. 

Before, it was just me and my own mind. Now, it's a charade, and a deadly one at that for hundreds. That bloody hat. What the hell was it thinking, putting me here. HERE??! This is not who I am. This is not who I was. 

Perhaps.... This IS who I am now... Scarlet and Gold then, Silver and Emerald now. A part of the winning team prior, and now... God. How did I let myself get talked into this. 

Oh, right. Harry. I have to focus on that. He is the reason for all of this. His is the life we, and above all, I must protect. I cannot begin to think HOW will do that from inside these serpentine walls. Plotting that calls for more wits than I am able to muster right now. 

Then there is the duplicity of my soul I am drowning in. I am Jack L. Grim. Body, mind, and soul? That potion was far more potent than I think Albus could have imagined, or, perhaps not. 

I am THINKING differently. I am ACTING differently. I am more of a "Gryffindor" type now than I ever was, and the bloody hat makes me a Slytherin??? There is another thought. Maybe I belonged here all along. Maybe Gryffindor was a fluke, a mistake all those years ago. I know many were surprised then too, when I was sorted. 

I suppose I should not dwell on this much more. The fragile framework of my psyche will cave in if I do. How many people can one soul be in one lifetime? Haven't I played my share of roles already?? 

God, I hope so. 

Ah... I have been called, by my house mates. Time for classes. Double Potions with Gryffindor. Perfect.

2002-07-18 20:34:00,
Silence at last after a long day....

Well, my first day as a student is over, and I am still alive. First of all was Double Potions with the Slyth... I mean Gryffindors. Talk about a flashback... Instead of setting off curses on Snape, he was teaching me. A bloody riot. Anyway, I was spotted at once by one Draco Malfoy. Yes, I know all about him, and his dealings with Harry.

He seems to have taken a liking to me. Wonderful. I suppose this could play to my advantage however. To be the favorite friend of Snape's little protege'. I met one of the Weasley clan during class as well. Ginny Weasley. A fourth year. She is like all the Weasleys, red hair, freckles, and great spirit. She is the cutest of the lot if you ask me. 

After Potions, Malfoy and I had a smoke in the head. He got into it with a Gryffindor. Nothing serious. Just a snarking contest. What a wimp. So, after a good amount of prattle with him, we adjourned for dinner in the great hall. 

Lord I had almost forgotten how good the food here is. I ate enough for three men, and again, Malfoy showed how highly he thinks of me. He booted one of his toadies out so I could sit beside him. Great. I have the demon spawn as my fan. 

After dinner I met a chap called Diggory. Prefect for Hufflepuff, and their Quidditch Seeker. He seemed nice enough. But then, all the Hufflepuffs were nicey nice types. No wonder they always get their arses kicked in matches. 

After Diggory, I saw Ginny again. I talked her into taking me on a tour of the 'secret' places she knows about in the castle. What a joke. It took all my effort to not say, "Here let me show you THIS..." Anyway, we snuck into the bakery and nipped some strawberry tarts. It was fun. She's an OK kid. Needs more confidence. I will have to work on that in my spare time. 

It's nearly midnight now, and despite being a creature of the dark, I am exhausted. I will hang out of the balcony for a quick smoke before bed. I miss my mead... I will have to set up a still, and brew some of my own under the floor boards or something. Well, students need their sleep, and I am rung out. Until next time then. 

Jack

2002-07-19 10:35:00,
"Slytherin, day two"

The morning so far has been uneventful. I was the first to rise. In more ways than one. I had almost forgotten how... randy I was in the mornings at this age. God...

Anyway, after breakfast, and some minor chat with Malfoy and the other Slytherins, I adjourned to the Study Hall to work on that blood assignment of Snape's.

2002-07-19 13:53:00,
Ugh....

I should have just stayed in bed. Did you ever have one of those days? As it turns out, I am having one of those LIVES. 

Innocently enough, even for ME, I went to the library to work on that damned assignment given out by Snape. Simple, right? Well, not for me. Nothing is EVER simple for me. 

Snape was swooshing in and out with some book when it went mad on him, and attacked. Now, this in itself was amusing. More amusing yet was the fact he asked for HELP. From ME. Well, he doesn't know it's me behind the mask, but being Jack Grim, helpful and nice Slytherin, I whipped out my wand, and froze him and the book. 

It SEEMED like a good idea at the time. Really it did. Anyway, when I realized that as much as it got my rocks off turning the old git into a popsicle, I was not acting as I should, so I defrosted him, and did a full body bind on the book. That seemed to work better. Until I opened my mouth. 

I railed at him for ruining my work, he offered to let me give an oral report instead... yeah, I got oral work he can do... Anyway... I traded verbal shots with him, just like the old days, and he ended up giving me 15 inches of essay on both sides to be done by breakfast. yeah, again, I got inches he can choke on. 

I walked out, then... it got weirder. I returned to the Slytherin Common room, had a butt, then found Malfoy moping on his bed. I asked him what was up, and it turns out HE was. Over me! Yep. 

Apparently he is in lust with me. When during the conversation preceding this was of love, and I made my beliefs of avoiding it known, he confessed his LUST not love for me. Practically begging me for it, he impaled himself on my knife I was holding. Sick. Sick little boy. I mean in my younger days it only took a hole and a heartbeat to interest me, but now... 

I don't know if I am ready to romp with the alleged heir of Slytherin, Satan's Spawn. What would Harry think?? 

I need a drink... badly.

2002-07-20 07:49:00,
Assignment Completed,

Well, after not being able to bear the moony (!) looks Draco was giving me in the Slytherin Common Room last night, I relocated once again down to the Study Hall section of the library to finish the "Fifteen inches, both sides of parchment, normal handwriting size" detention Snape had given me AFTER saving his bloody ass from that book-gone-mad.

It still boggles my mind that I actually INTEND on doing it. Damn potion. I will get Albus for this, but first I will have my way one way or another with Severus. I am noticing, the inside this journal it the only place I can truly be, ME. Sirius. Not Jack, not Padfoot, not Snuffles. Dark, black, hating, vengeful Sirius Black. I am sure this, as with all things in Hogwarts, is Albus' doing.

In any case, in the study hall I was able to get most of my work done without major interruption. I was greeting by Diggory again, and at one point Ginny Weasley found me, and asked me for help on her paper.

I gave it a look over, and helped her with some corrections. I told her, "No matter how perfect it is, if Snape wants to, he will find fault with it. He could find fault with the Ten Commandments if they were placed on his desk under that hooked beak of his."

Another girl came up and introduced herself to me, Skye Black. Heh. Nice name babe. Hopefully different bloodline for your sake. 

From what I have heard in the gossip mill, she snogs with Harry when giving the chance. Good for him. It's about time he was getting some action. God knows I was "Lord of the Thighs" by that point in my life. 

Well, it's ten minutes to breakfast, so I will end this venture into my fractured psyche, and get that damn essay to Snape. I can only wonder what joys THIS day will hold for me. 

Over and out.

2002-07-20 09:59:00,
There is no pleasing some people...

Especially Snape. But then, I am not telling anything new here. I turned in my assignment, just as instructed, to specifications, and ON TIME, but that wasn't good enough for Snape. Big shock that. Apparently Ginny beat me to the office to turn hers in, and I got a dressing down from Snape for letting a Gryffindor beat me. Let's hear it for House Pride, eh?

Well, it's turned in, time for another day.

2002-07-21 08:59:00,
Listening at keyholes

Well, first thing this morning, Draco got called down to speak with Snape. A runt second year was trying to wake him. I helped with a water spell. It was a riot.

Anyway, I can only wonder what Snape wants with Malfoy. This of course requires me to find out. After all, I am the spy...

2002-07-21 15:44:00,
Suspicions Confirmed.

Well, it seems that yes, Snape is pumping Malfoy for information on my Odd behavior. It appears I need to act more like the other slime in this house to blend in and avoid his scrutiny. Fine. I can do that. I am A Marauder after all. Mischief managed. No problem.

Steps approaching. Sounds like Snape.

Over and out.

2002-07-21 16:29:00,
A Failure of systems.

IC Post by Snape, Padfoot, and NPC Albus Dumbledore.

Jack, was sitting in a window seat on a side of the castle hallway that afforded some sunlight. The book he was reading, was innocuous enough seeming, "Spells of the New World." He was all showered, and groomed. Looking marvelous. Dressed in his Slytherin robes.

Snape carried on walking, a small, black leather satchel in one hand which clinked slightly as he moved. His eyes drank in everything even if he didn't look about. When he drew closer to Grim he stopped and sneered. "Essay," he said, producing it from within folds in his robes, hand moving far too fast to be followed with the ease of long practice. He flipped his wrist backwards and held it pointing at the boy.

Jack closed his book, setting it down in his lap, and then reached for the scroll that was being offered. "You didn't have to bring it to me personally Professor Snape. I could have gotten it from you in class tomorrow," he said.

Now the sneer deepened as he snapped back his wrist with a flap of his long robes. "Don't flatter yourself. I happened to be passing. Besides, it might do you good to read it before class."

Jack gave Snape a nonplused expression, and took the scroll, breaking the wax seal on it, then unrolling it. He read it over with a bored expression.

All through the essay, alongside the black lettering of the essay proper, (surprisingly neat for a boy his age, rigid, with all the letters formed perfectly) is a running critique in an immaculate, small, swooping green hand. Any orthographical errors underlined perfectly straightly, poor expression struck through completely with a demand for more lucidity above it. The factual information is never criticized, merely the explanations or the lack of cross-referencing, sourcing or depth. At the bottom is the note; 'Grim; your essay-writing technique leaves something to be desired.'

Jack looked over the critique of his essay, and found he was unable to react as Sirius, and heard himself saying, "Thank you for taking the time to point out my shortcomings Professor. I shall try to do better next time," he said looking up at the scowling Professor.

One curt nod allowed Snape's hair to fall a little forwards, but his expression never changed. "See to it," he said as he started walking off, heading for the Medical Wing.

Jack watched Snape wander off with a sneer, on his face, then threw an obscene gesture his way once his back was turned. He turned back to his book, preparing to read it, then suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his belly, and he cried out in pain as he fell from the window seat onto the stone floor of the hallway.

Snape's hearing, as a teacher used to trying to foil the Weasley twins' pranks, was very good and he heard the clatter- and waited for the follow-up patter of feet, but the hall had been rather empty as the day was so nice and it took far too long for even he to ignore. Openly snarling he spun and stormed back, footsteps heavy, to stand above the stricken boy. "What is it?" he demanded, but his mind was already wandering...

Jack's face was contorted in obvious pain, and he was curled up in a fetal position on the stone floor holding his stomach. "Don't..... bloody.... know....." he managed to choke out, still laying there.

All-too familiar memories of being in a similar position, albeit with a book and not with pain, flash through Snape's mind as well as the treatment he'd received in response. But like it or not, Grim was his student and he swept back his robes and sat on his haunches, one hand moving to his forehead without asking permission, eyes narrowed in thought. "Where does it hurt? Have you eaten anything that may have caused this?"

Animal instincts, Sirius instincts, and pain all mixed to cause the reaction to Snape's touch, even if it was in genuine concern. "Don't... TOUCH... me.... EVER!" Jack manages to choke out, along with a quick swipe of his right hand in Snape's direction before returning to clutching his stomach.

The hand withdraws but he stays kneeling beside him, voice steady and calm. "Grim. I am going to have to take you to the Medical Ward. I am going to have to cast a spell on you, it will be the easiest way. But first I think you should drink this." Mouth set in a grim line at the hindrance, he delves swiftly into the bag and withdraws a small phial. "Can you drink it yourself?" 

Jack manages to look at Snape again, despite the agony. "NO..... I will drink NOTHING you have brewed..." he pants through the pain. "I... don't... trust... you..." he growls.

"Then I apologize," he says, intoning, "Iungo corpus." Invisible bonds sweep around the struggling youth and Snape leans in, holding his head still with one hand and pouring in the Rejuvenatus with the other. He pauses a minute before standing, now uttering, "Mobilis corpus," and heading for the Medical Wing. He awaits a volley of insults. 

Jack is in pain, but not unresponsive, and when he feels the potion go into this mouth, he does his best to spew it back out, onto Snape if possible. Pain is overwhelmed by panic as more of Sirius' thoughts come through in his mind and psyche. "Leave off of me your twisted old git!" he cries out. 

"Relax, Grim. It will hurt less. You are only doing yourself damage. That was Rejuvenatus, a batch which took a considerable amount of time to brew, I might add. If you do not fight it it will ease the pain. We are almost at the Hospital Wing." He waves one hand coolly ahead, no expression at all visible on his face. 

Jack wants nothing more that to gut his worst enemy at that point. Revenge, rage, and hate are all he feels, then the potion begins to calm him enough to return SOME rational thought. Albus' potion is wearing off.... Fear clutched at Jack's gut, more than the pain, and he struggled against the spell drawing him to the Infirmary. The LAST place he wanted to be if the spell completely wore off. Where was Dumbledore??? he screamed in his mind. 

Snape was having a hard time dealing with the boy, writhing madly in his invisible bonds, made stronger by the Rejuvenatus potion. The small amount he'd got in his mouth when Jack had spit it burned a little hotly and had started to go to his head, making it hard to concentrate. "Stop... fighting me..." he warned, his voice low as he consciously slowed his breathing, the mask about his face threatening to break. "I.... am... trying... to... help..."

Jack was able to fight the forces striking against him for so long, and suddenly his body went limp. He hung in mid air like a flaccid rag doll. Only his rapid and staggered breathing remained the same. He pinched closed his eyes, and tried to fight the spinning dizziness threatening to swallow him totally.

Snape almost tripped up as the body he was carrying stopped fighting and he gasped audibly, walking closer to the wall. No one was in sight... where were they? Was it a Quidditch match? Hogsmeade? No, even if it had been, Grim would have been with them. It didn't make sense. But at this rate he wasn't going to make it to the Medical Wing--

Just as Snape nearly drops the limp form of Jack, Albus Dumbledore appears walking down the Hall. He has an odd expression on his face when he sees the duo in the hall, and the condition of Jack. "Severus? Have you poisoned another one of your students so early in the term?" he says with a twinkle in his eyes. 

Snape doesn't even dignify that with a response, the even paler color of his face in dichotomy with the red across his cheeks. A brief, relieved look crosses his face as he lets go of the spell, leaning against the wall and trusting Dumbledore to catch him. 

Albus sees Severus release Jack from the Spell, and he easily catches the nearly full sized boy in his arms, and looks down at his limp form. "Tsk tsk tsk my dear boy." he says softly, "I am sorry I did not get your Allergy potion to you sooner. Here, let's get you fixed up..." he says as he carries Jack into the hospital wing. "Come along Severus." he says in a voice that leaves no room for protests. 

The Potions Master looks despairingly at the Headmaster's back, bites his lip, squares his shoulders and walks as stiffly as he can manage after them, glad that Jack cannot see his weakness. 

Albus lays the boy down on an empty bed, then pulls a curtain around the three of them for privacy. He smoothes the damp hair of Jack's forehead, and speaks soothingly to him. "There there Jack. We will get you all fixed up in no time. I have your medicine right here..." he says as he pulls a phial from his cloak, filled with a pale green liquid. He removes the cork, and then lifts it to the boy's lips. "Here Jack, drink.." he urges. 

Snape is now standing, if close to a wall, at least free from it. His eyes are not still, however, looking around for Madam Pomfrey, then at the liquid-- professional interest of course. He tries to distinguish it by sight, viscosity, smell, but nothing in his vast repertoire springs to mind. The color in his cheeks fades a little and his stance becomes gradually steadier, but he looks away from the bedridden boy after staring at the antidote long enough, avoiding their eyes and clearly uncomfortable to be here. 

Jack swallows a bit of the potion, then reacts the bad taste, and fights, regaining full consciousness again. His eyes snap open and he spots Dumbledore, the Hospital Wing, then Snape leaning against a wall like a hungry Vampire. "Professor...." he starts to get out, then Albus pours the rest of the potion down his throat. 

"There, there Jack. I know it tastes bad, but we can't have you falling ill with your allergies again, can we?" he says with a smile. 

Jack nods, slowly in agreement, still making a face from the taste. "Water?" he manages to choke out a minute later after is all swallowed. 

Snape looks up to Dumbledore for cues, and when he sees none, he heads off to the sink to pour a glass of water, taking the opportunity to get one for himself and take a few sips before returning and placing it on the bedside table. 

Jack looks up at Dumbledore as Snape departs to get the water, and Albus leans in close. "You seemed to have not only forgotten your weekly dose Mr. Grim, but a small amount of Narcissism to give you a more subtle warning of an impending 'reaction'. He said with a smile and a wink. 

Jack nodded, "Thanks," he said in appreciation as Snape returned with the water. Reflexively, he looked in it before taking a sip. 

The Potions Master scowled deeper as he watched Grim check the water, turning on Albus with ferocity; "As Head of House, did nobody think to inform me of his medical history? 

Albus looks up at Severus, from over the rim of his half-moon glasses, and smiles softly. "Did I forget to mention this to you? It must be because of all the... excitement at the sorting ceremony for Jack. But yes, he does have a rare allergy that requires a weekly dose of a remedy that I have been brewing for him." 

Now the Slytherin turns an ashen shade, first at the dangerous risk his superior- his trusted superior has taken with the boy's life on his behalf, and second with the implied slight of his being unable to cope with brewing the potion. Thunder plays across his dark eyes and he swells a little, before something else... and he subsides, sullenly, nodding. "Yes, Headmaster." 

Albus pats Jack on the shoulder as he notices the boy falling into a deep slumber, and covers him up before turning to the Potions Master. "Well, no insult was meant on your skills of course Severus," he says, as he is able to so easily read Severus' moods. "I thought that with all your other more pressing duties...." he says, letting his voice trail off, then continues on letting Severus fill in the blanks. "...that you didn't need this paltry chore as well." 

A sharp glance to the side at the now-sleeping boy and the professor's voice is now low, but not threatening. "Indeed, Professor." He looks about to say more, but then bites his tongue. "I will need to brew some more Rejuvenatus, now." He looks up, asking permission. 

Albus looks up, giving something quite unnerving to Severus, a worried look. "Perhaps.... Sleep is what you need more Severus. You are mortal, don't forget that.... Potions can only do so much..." he says softly. 

Outright surprise flickers across the junior teacher's face for the first time in many years. He swallows. "Perhaps. Please inform Madam Pomfrey that I shall complete a fresh batch for her by tomorrow, the remainder is still in the Hall..." He blinks, twice, and then walks off, struggling to keep himself contained under a real or imagined watcher, pacing slowly away. 

Albus watches the Potions master walk off, and he shakes his head slowly. "Poor Severus." he says softly, then after covering up Jack, and leaving a note for Poppy. He leaves the Hospital Wing.

2002-07-22 17:55:00,
Reporting to Snape,

A Dual IC post by Padfoot and Snape:

Jack signs out of the Hospital Wing, and gets from Madame Pomfrey four phials of his Allergy Medicine left for him by Professor Dumbledore. He pockets them in his robe, and still feeling a bit shaky, he heads for his dorm. He has been informed that lunch will be waiting for him there, but first he is to alert Professor Snape he is well again. "Good thing I am eating AFTER seeing the slimy git..." he mutters as he walks down to the dungeons. 

The Potions master is in his habitual haunt, curled over his desk by the barest minimum of candlelight, a dingy color which barely manages to illuminate the study space nor do any favors for its occupants. The only noise is the dip-scritch, dip-scritch of a pen across parchment, the worker not seeming to move otherwise. 

Jack pauses outside of the office door, listening of course. He doesn't hear anything right off, but knocks twice anyway. "Professor Snape?" he asks politely, the potion in full force again.

"Come." Snape's voice is decidedly neutral with a hint of boredom and exasperation peppering the edges.

Jack inhales, steadying himself for something that is BOUND to be unpleasant, and goes into the office. He sees Snape at work, what else, at his desk, and takes a seat in the chair before the desk. He sits silently, waiting. 

Snape sets down his quill with meticulous care, smoothing the feathers a second with his long fingers. He does not need to adjust his pose, merely his eye-level and he does so by looking at the student before him with affected disinterest. "Mr. Grim?" 

Jack sighs, still looking tired. "I am here to report I have been discharged from the Infirmary, back to my house, and have been excused from classes for the day...." he says, producing a note from Dumbledore, and handing it across the desk. 

Without blinking the professor's tapered, pale hand reaches out to take the slip from the boy's broad, warmer one, deathly-cold despite the work they have been involved in they brush against his fingertips. He takes the note and unfolds it carefully, eyes slowly slipping over the page. He nods, once. 

Jack actually shivers as those cold digits pass over his, and he vows to soak them in bleach upon return to the dorms. "So, if you have nothing else for me to do Professor, I will be retiring for the day..." Jack says as he starts to get up from his seat. 

Snape's breath hitches ever so slightly, almost too quiet to hear. "Yes, Grim. There is something..." his lingers over the sibilants a moment, drawing it out inexorably. 

Jack pauses, and looks over his shoulder at the Professor. Looking at him now, closer, he can see, and SENSE, something is amiss with usual biting and acerbic Potions Master. He'd never ask though. Why INVITE abuse? "And that would be, what? Professor?" 

"I want assurances, Grim. That this will not happen again." He taps one finger idly, then scowls at it when he realizes what he is doing. "Also, I am in charge of your safety, I am responsible for you. Wherever you got the insane idea I was trying to kill you from I do not know nor do I care. But it may make life difficult. Do you think I would be so stupid as to poison you, when I am the Potions Master?" a snort. "Then again, perhaps you would. From now on I want to know that even without me looking after your sorry hide you will not be half-dead or in trouble every five minutes." 

Jack gets a look on his face that borders on confusion and laughter, he says with a polite smile and tone. "I NEVER said anything to anyone about you trying to kill me sir. I have only been in your house a couple of days. Honestly! Why on earth would I make up such a tale?" he asks, looking GENUINELY confused. 

"Perhaps you were delusional, but you were certainly acting like you thought I wanted to rip out your throat yesterday, Grim." His frown deepens as he considers this, and he shifts a little in his seat. "Some actions speak louder than words," he concludes, not bothering to hide the fact that he is reading Jack's face intently. 

Jack takes in a long, slow steadying breath, and replies. "If you are referring to when I was in the throes of my allergy attack Professor. When they are that severe, I border on hysteria. It was not meant as a direct slight on your reputation or intentions toward me." he says with a straight face, and not a blip on the lie detector. 

Snape is now heartily amused, a fact evidenced by the sudden flash in his eyes and a quirk in his lips. "Perhaps," is all he says. Now he affords himself the luxury of leaning back in his seat, physically relaxing (if the underwritten lines of tension rippling through him could be judged as 'more relaxed'). He breathes out slowly. "And you also seem to have an uncanny habit of ending up in my way, Grim." 

Jack makes a motion with his mouth, an unconscious slide to the side, dismissive. As if he has just heard that Gnomes are living in his pants. "If it appears to you to be that way Professor, I am truly sorry. I will strive to be invisible, and silent to you from this point on..." he says, then with a polite half bow, he moves toward the door again. 

Snape holds his gaze easily, now clearly mentally laughing- or his form of it at least- at something he alone can see. Calculation builds in his eyes and it is with a lazy snort that he waves him out. "Until we meet again, Grim," deep, basso rumbles rise from his belly and throat. 

Jack gives Snape simply a polite nod, and retreats from the office as fast as possible. Even with his old psyche shrouded, he can FEEL something is very wrong with Snape, and the dynamics between the two of them. Pushing it from his mind or go nutters thinking about it. He retreats to the sanctity of his dorm bed, and after stripping down, and drawing closed the curtains, falls into a deep sleep. 

Snape is not peaceful, far from it. His thoughts whirl maddeningly loud and fast, bluff, double-bluff, counter, riposte, blow, block... follow the though through, en garde. Touche.

2002-07-22 23:04:00,
The Dream...

As I sit here now, calmer with my second cigarette between my lips, polluting my lungs, my breathing and system is beginning to calm. A bit... I have had nightmares my whole life. Comes from a fucked up childhood, and 12 years in hell. This one was different. I could SMELL it.

It was all amorphous, cloudy like, and the only sound was the thudding my heart beat like some sick soundtrack to a B movie. I was supine, restrained, naked. All around me was black, my body covered in the sweat of fear, and my unbelievable cock was rampant and pointed skyward. 

Then there was a touch, cold, tight, gripping my throat, not enough to choke off air, but enough to give threat and impose domination. A black fog was over my eyes I realized now that I wanted to see who held me and where. I struggled, and my scream escaped as a whimper that sounded like submission. The hand tightened, slim fingers stroked the underside of my jaw then I felt the heat of a bare form pressing down onto mine.

Breath, heat, near my ear as I am gripped elsewhere, hard, and milked for pleasure. But not my own... My mind screams, my body arches, but I cannot fight the lust. It overrides the fear, and my young body betrays me, bucking obscenely in compliance. Then as it continues, so close to completion, lips, cold and dry press to the wetness of my throat. A hard, sucking kiss, a bite, and I come. He laughs. I knew all along it was male, I could feel the stab of his meat against my thigh like a bobby's club. As I arch my back, shooting seed, he collects it, I can feel him milking me into... glass. 

I fight again, but the result is no more fruitful than before. The darkness remains, the cold stings against my wet skin, then my cock is left alone, still twitching with sexual energy, still oozing seed when I feel hands on my knees, pushing them up toward my chest. The restraints at my ankles gone! I try to move and find I am numb, something blocks the nerve impulses to my legs until I feel him nestled between my thighs, and target my rectum with his cock. He pauses only a second before mounting me. It is done quickly, his head is wet, lubed with something warm, viscous, and with his hands gripped to my youthful thighs, he thrusts his meat home. 

I scream out again, and two of his long fingers slip past my lips, down into my mouth to penetrate me doubly as he rapes me. The touches before were slowly sinister, seductive, but now the veil is dropped, and he savages me, all the while his mouth is near my ear, calling me by his love names, "Whore... slut... toy... " Each word is punctuated with a full retreat and deep reentering thrust. I am called Whore thirty times before he pumps his spunk into my ass, then he laughs. 

He laughs because I have come again, spilling all over his belly and mine. I am his. Whore, slut, toy. His laughter gets closer to my ear, then he bites down on the side of my neck, sucking hard. This will leave a mark for all to see, to match the latest invisible scar left on my soul. Then it reaches my nose, the smell. His scent, smeared onto me, mixed with his fluids and mine. Acrid. Bitter. Black Hate. I will never forget that smell.

It was then I woke up. Smoked these four cigarettes, and wrote this all down. Why? Fuck if I know. I just know I need a shower to wash the spunk off.

Analysis? Oh please do.

2002-07-23 10:00:00,
The story thus far....

For those of you new to this game, Padfoot's Story so far is thus:

We are playing in the current date and time frame, just prior to Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. Sirius had been hiding out in Knockturn Alley until Albus Dumbledore came up with a way to get Sirius closer to Harry. He would brew a potion that would alter Sirius' age and appearance to that of a 15 year old student, Jack Grim.

Friction between Jack and Professor Snape started when they collided in Hogsmeade one day. The conflict has further been exacerbated by the sorting of Jack in to Slytherin House, despite the fact Sirius was a Gryffindor previously, and the odd buried feelings Snape has about the boy.

2002-07-23 13:29:00,
Watchdog on duty.... after a fashion.

An IC post from Padfoot, Harry is NPC at the moment.

Still shaken from the nightmare of the night before, Jack sat on the steps of the castle as the sun rose the following morning, sneaking a cigarette. His mind was still reeling from what he had dreamt, felt, smelt... He shook his head, clearing his mind of that, and returned to work on his note to Harry. In it he told him all the usual. He was fine. Still in hiding close by, eating well. The usual. He again asked Harry to send him word of anything unusual, and signed it, "Affectionately yours, SB" before rolling up the scroll and tying it to the leg of a hawk he had summoned. "Don't rush the delivery..." he growled at the bird as he fed it a dead mouse, and then toss launched it up into the air.

A while later Harry returned with his friends from their Transfiguration class. Hermione had to do a Prefect Duty and Ron still hadn't finished his History of Magic essay. He saw the hawk waiting by his bed, casting the occasional glance to Hedwig and undid the note, rummaging in his stuff for some of his treats to give to it, idly wondering if hawks liked the same things as owls did. The bird accepted it and flew out the window. Harry sat down and read it. Then he looked out after the bird. Yes. Perhaps flying might help...

After he had finished his cigarette and destroyed the evidence. Jack decided to further enjoy his Day Off from Classes with a walk around the grounds. He headed for the deserted Quidditch Pitch first, and climbed the tower where the Gryffindors would sit to watch the matches. Looking down at the aged wood, he saw the carved initials that were still there, but weathered by time, JP, SB, RL, PP. With a growl, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. He pointed it at the last pair of initials, and spoke, "Reparo arboretum" and the wood where PP had been carved, repaired itself, no trace of it's existence left beside the other three. Jack smirked, and pulled out another cigarette.

Harry held his Nimbus under his arm, wrapping his arm about the wood and reveling in the familiar feel of it. The note was heavy in the inner pocket of his robes, making it feel difficult to walk, combining with the slow loops and rolls his stomach was doing even before he left the ground. He needed to do this, to get lost in flying. To get lost. With one swift, well-practiced movement he swept his broom down, swung his leg over and kicked up and off the ground.

Jack was reclined on one of the benches, as he looked up at the sky, and clouds over head. A nearby "whooshing" sound caught his attention, and he quickly sat up, sharp eyes scanning the Pitch below. His eyes narrowed, seeing the form on the broom, and he watched, keeping his head low. A moment or two passed, then he recognized the form on the broom. "Harry!" he called out cheerfully, then horror struck him as he recalled just WHO he was. Who he was SUPPOSED to be at that point. Quickly dropping down, he hid, cursing himself a strong blue streak.

Harry threw himself into his flying, lying so flat along the handle it was difficult to tell where boy ended and broom began. His eyes were half-closed, wind whipping his unruly hair about his reddened features, but not blocking his view. Faster and faster he went, running a course around the edge of the pitch, pushing his broom as fast as it would go. He was merely a blur when he passed the stand for his own team, but he still heard his name shouted. "Whu-wha?" Shaken from his concentration he sat upright, pulling the handle upwards and halting it with a breakneck jerk. The momentum carried him forwards and he was forced to adopt a wide, slow curve downwards to the stand, his hands burning from the effort of stopping.

Jack turned, and looked around, not seeing Harry anywhere nearby, he stood up slowly, and brushed out his robes. As he did so, he saw Harry circling around the stands about 100 feet from where he was standing. He froze. Unable to move. The inwardly buried Sirius did not want to leave, he wanted to stay, and talk to Harry, the only truly friendly soul he knew these days. Jack smiled, and lifted his hand up into the air, "Over here!" he called out in a pleasant tone.

A look of confusion crossed Harry's face for a moment, seeing Slytherin-green in the bastion of his house, but he said nothing as he hovered closer, bending his knees to land and dismounting the broom gracefully. He continued to worry the handle a little as he smiled, somewhat anxiously but friendly enough. "Hullo Jack. Long time no see... Is there a reason you weren't in class before?" he looked a little unsure, as if the question might be awkward, but grinned lopsidedly through it.

Jack smiled warmly at the younger boy, and rubbed his hand through the messy back length of his pitch colored hair. "I uh... was sick, last night. I forgot to take an Allergy Potion and had a bad reaction. Snape ended up finding me and taking me to the Hospital Wing. I was there most of yesterday, then when I was released, they told me to take today off and get some fresh air. So, rather than sit in the Slytherin Dungeon all day, I came out here."

Harry smiled more warmly at that, and it reached his green eyes. "Oh. I hope you weren't too bad." He shuffles a little, resettling his weight and peering up at the boy a little, even though he is none to short for his age. "Erm, do you fly? I mean, I saw you in the Quidditch shop, but I haven't seen you training yet..."

Jack cracked a wide grin, belying his true nature beneath and said, "Well, I am sort of out of practice. Didn't fly much while I was in the United States. I haven't bought a broom since coming back. No one has asked me to try out for the House Team yet anyway..." he said casting a glance at Harry's Broom. "That is sure a sweet Firebolt. I heard they are quite pricey...."

Harry listened intently, a look of intense sorrow and dismay crossing his face as he thought about being unable to fly again and he ached in empathy. His fingers clutched reflexively tight about his Firebolt, but within a moment the doubt on his face passed. "Would you... like to have a go?" he asked, almost shyly offering his broom out to the other youth.

Jack smiled in a soft way, and shook his head slowly. "I would LOVE to Harry, but I know how dear a broom is to it's rider. I am sure that one was a gift from someone who loves you a great deal. I wouldn't want to risk damaging it." he said, then ran his hand over the mirror-like shine on the wood. "This looks brand new, I can tell you take great care with it." he pauses, then laughed before continuing, "Besides, what would they say if the Great Harry Potter let a Slytherin ride his prized broom?"

Harry laughed at that, and the tension about him seemed to dissipate as he pulled his broom back to the fold all-too eagerly. "Perhaps not such a wise idea..." he agreed, humor lighting his face. "But there's no objections to you training with school brooms, is there? And who would think it odd for us to be... racing, maybe?" There, the first sparks of challenge and enthusiasm now, a little rivalry and pride in his voice.

Jack wiggled his eyebrows at Harry, then said, "Or better yet.... I could dip into that EMERGENCY Money my aunt put in Gringotts for me.... and go to Hogsmeade..." he said in a sly tone of voice as he elbowed Harry softly in the ribs. "You done with classes for the day Potter?" he grinned. "Up for a bit of mischief?" he added with a twinkle in his own eye.

"Broom would be tricky," Harry said, trying not to feel guilty about leaving his friends behind and to enjoy the sensation of being so rebellious. "I'm sure we'd be spotted and we're not really supposed to..." his eyes narrowed as he stopped following the thought through and stopped weighing things up. Suddenly the risk of being caught- or turned in- was the least on his mind. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, his too-honest face betraying his thoughts. "I suppose it has to be the Willow," are his over-measured words.

Jack smiled, and clapped Harry on the shoulder, "I will let you lead the way. I only READ about the tunnel in the Prophet after that whole... Sirius Black thing," he said, taking care to surround his name with the suitable amount of distaste. He even added a shudder for measure. "Just looking at his picture gives me the creeps."

Color slowly returned to the boy's face, but it was still guarded. "Yeah... I see..." he mumbled, trying to recall if anything like that had been in the paper, and that, if it had, why was the tunnel still open? He shrugged. He really wanted to get out, even if Jack HAD just reminded him of why in the shape of one godfather. "Right, let's get down first," he said and started walking, watching to see if Jack followed.

Jack nodded, a bit more solemnly, upset at himself for baiting Harry that way, and said nothing more as he follows the Gryffindor down the long flights of stairs.

2002-07-23 17:42:00,"
Seems like old times, old places.

Jack held the gleaming new Firebolt in his hand as he moved along the abandoned hallways of Hogwarts. It had been a fun afternoon in Hogsmeade with Harry, and even though it had caused him a bit of worry as he made a withdrawal from the Black Account at Gringotts. Everything went without a hitch.

The Goblins it seemed, if they KNEW he was Sirius, didn't show it. He supposed as long as he had the correct key and combination, they couldn't give a shite. That was all behind him now however, and after a successful trip to the Quidditch supplies shop, he was now the newest proud owner of a Firebolt broomstick. He'd never had anything CLOSE to this wonderful in his youth, and it was a dizzying feeling. As he held it in his hand, he marveled at the feel of the wood in his hand. It was sensuous. It was almost obscene the way it felt in his hands. The whole shape of the stick was phallic. No WONDER Harry held on to it like it was his dick. It felt almost as good.

Jack shook his head, his long hair falling rakishly around his shoulders as he tried to put THOSE thoughts out of his mind. The teenage hormones raging around in his blood were going to be the death of him and this covert operation if he wasn't careful... He was glad for the solitude the halls were affording him right now. It was dinner time, and since he and Harry had pigged out in Hogsmeade, he didn't need to eat again. Harry on the other hand, had gone to join his house mates, it seems he couldn't bear to be separated from them for great lengths of time. Jack laughed softly, thinking about that. He had been the same way with James, Remus, and on a lesser level, Peter. They had lived in each others pockets for the better part of 7 years.

Jack was lost in idle thoughts of some night flying he was planning to do when movement ahead of him caught his eye. She stepped out of an alcove looking quite fetching in her green and silver Slytherin Robes, and the winsome grin she gave Jack was crystal clear in intent. "Funny finding you here, and not in the dining hall..." she said as she fell into step beside Jack and looked over at the broom he was carrying. Jack smiled. He wasn't sure if he could recall her name, he was still learning the names and faces off all his Slytherin House mates, but he had seen her around, she was a sixth year, one year ahead of him at this point.

"I wasn't hungry..." Jack said, and watched as she reached over and gave the handle of his broom a long languid stroke of her pale hand. "I don't think I've ever seen such a nice... shaft on a broom before..." she cooed as she lowered her eyelids partially over her ice blue colored eyes. "Really?" Jack grinned in a leer as he stopped walking. She did likewise, stopping only when she was chest to chest with him. "My name's Fellatia," she said in a soft voice, reaching a hand up to rest on his shoulder coyly. "Fellatia Flint. My brother is on the Quidditch Team for Slytherin. He's the Captain."

Jack let his eyes wander over her form. It was young, ripe, and curved in all his favorite ways. "I have heard of him..." Jack said slowly, leaning his head slightly to the side to gaze at her long pale neck. She did likewise, and moved close enough to place a light kiss on the side of his neck as her hands gripped his shoulders lightly. "Have you heard about me?" she whispered, just before giving the side of his neck a playful nip, sending an exquisite shudder through his entire body.

"Not a... thing..." Jack replied, barely suppressing a moan at the touch. He was already primed for this sort of sport, and it wouldn't take much to get the game rolling. "I don't think we've even met."

Fellatia turned her head to look into his eyes directly, one hand remained on his shoulder, and the other, her right, moved downward between his body and hers. Searching, moving through folds of robe material until she found the snap at the top of his jeans, and gave it a quick disarming pull. "Well Jack Grim.... would you like to get to know me?" she purred, this time, moving her lips close to his. She smelled of lilac, and something else that was vaguely familiar.

Jack felt his blood boiling, and his head swimming, he was nodding before he knew it, "Yeah, I would like that," he said breathily, just before she covered his mouth with hers in a savage lust filled kiss. Jack in response, put an arm around her waist, and pulled her tighter to him while still holding onto the Firebolt in the other. The snog was a long and wild one, moments later, Fellatia broke it to come up for air. Her eyes were electric with desire, and Jack's expression mirrored hers.

"Find a better place?" Jack asked between slow pants. Fellatia nodded, and taking his free hand in hers, she lead him back up the hallway, down another, and to a dead end corridor, (that in fact was near the entrance to Gryffindor Tower), and into a large broom closet that she apparently knew well. Jack could only grin, he knew it just as well. Once the were secluded inside, he barely had time to shelve the new broom above his head before he was locked mouth and hip with her again. Jack moaned softly as she tangled her tongue with his, and two pairs of hands explored, searched, and peeled away layers of robes, and clothing. Jack pulled away from her just long enough to grip his wand, aim it at the door and utter a strong locking spell. Once that was done he used his free grip to peel Fellatia's robe back and off of her, then started on her button up shirt and tie.

Fellatia was faster at her task however, and just as Jack had made work of the buttons, and pulled the shirt open, she had opened his robe, unfastened and unzipped his jeans and jerked them downward as she descended to her knees on the closet floor before him. Jack paused, and let out a moan as her hands then gripped his underwear and yanked them down, freeing his erection. "Oh God..." he sighed as his hands reached down, stroking the rounds of her breasts through the silkiness of her bra.

"Yeah.... This is what I was looking for...." she chuckled as she gripped the base of his cock in her right hand, and began to stroke him. Jack let out a cry of anguish, and stepped back, tripping slightly and then landing on his butt on a step stool. This only improved the height and angle ratio, and without missing a beat, Fellatia laughed, then pumped him again, "Like that do you Jack?" she purred, and all Jack could do was nod in eager agreement. "Y-yes.... Oh God yes..." he whimpered.

Fellatia continued to slowly wank him off watching him pump his hips up and down eagerly. "Tell me Jack boy.... How long has it been since you were with a girl? Malfoy says you are gay..." she taunted. Jack shook his head furiously. "No.... I'm not gay. He was flirting with ME..." he gasped, hands kneading into the soft skin of her breasts.

"Hm.... I always THOUGHT he was Daddy's little faggot," she growled then leaned forward, and slipped her mouth over the head of Jack's cock. She slid him deep into her mouth, then slowly retreated, listening to him moan with tormented ecstasy. "Oh God, Oh God.... please.... don't stop...." he begged her, his mind reeling. Fellatia went back to jacking him off slowly, and speaking to him in soft tones. "Well Jack, I like you... A lot of girls like you.... But I told them I get you first...." she said as her hand slid up and down his shaft. "I want to see you on the House Team too Jack. Would you like me to arrange that for you?"

All Jack could do was moan and nod at his point. Sex for Sirius has ended thirteen plus years ago unless you count self abuse, and he was lost to any rational thought now. "Yes..... Yes... I love Quidditch...." he panted, eyes screwed shut as he fought to not come right then and there as she stroked him.

"Good. I will talk to Marcus then... " she purred, "But you have to be MY friend Jack. You have to do ME a favor first..."

"Anything..... Anything..." he gasped as his hips lifted again and again to match her hand strokes. His heart was pounding and sweat was running down the sides of his face and the center of his back.

"Good. I will keep that in mind for later Jack... But I think you know what I want you to do for me now..." she said, then leaned forward, and slowly slid her mouth down over him until he was deep inside the wet heat of her mouth.

"Oh.... Jesus..." he moaned as his hand moved up to grip her head as it bobbed up and down on him. "Yes.... oh yes...." he chanted softly as if in prayer as she went down on him. It was only a moment longer before he arched his back and gripped her hair tightly as he came. "Oh... fuck.... me..... fuck.... fuck....." he panted as he shot his load and Fellatia continued to suck madly on his cock. Jack threw his head back, gasping for air with the long denied release, and was only dully aware of her as she swallowed and lapped at him until she was sated with his seed.

He felt her slip her mouth from him, then move away from him. Jack draped his arm over his eyes as he panted for air, and tried to regain his senses. "That... was... amazing...." he panted, then slowly opened his eyes to gaze as her in the darkness. She was producing something from her pocket, and held it up for him to see. It was a silver ring, about one quarter inch thick with an outer diameter of about three inches. "Whassat?" Jack asked, and for an answer, she ran her tongue around the inside rim of it, then jammed it down over his cock, forcing it down the thick shaft to rest right above his balls. Jack arched his back again and moaned as she put the cock ring on him.

"Insurance." she grinned as she rose to her feet, and stood before him, removing her opened shirt, and unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts with a soft bounce. "It's a charmed Cock Ring Jack. Your dick stays hard as long as you wear it, and you won't knock me up." she said triumphantly as she lifted up her skirt, revealing her neatly shaved pussy, and moved to sit on his lap and straddle his waiting cock. Jack smiled and welcomed her into his lap with a tight hug and a bite to the side of her neck as she slid her wet slot down over him slowly.

Once he was deep inside of her he made a growling sound in his throat, and then grabbed hold of her hips as she began to ride him. Fellatia wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tossed her head back as his mouth found the nipple of her right breast and latched on. Jack suckled her as hard as she had him, leaving a red rosy mark behind before he move onto it's twin.

Fellatia bucked her hips as he thrust upward and deeper into her, grinding her love button against his taut belly. "Yes.... Oh Yessssss...." she moaned as their bodies ground against each other. Once he had finished with her breasts, he turned his mouth onto her neck, leaving a trail of love bites all along the base of her throat as he fucked her. "I KNEW.... you weren't.... a ....fag...." she panted with glee, "You may bugger boys... but you like girls best...." she laughed wickedly as she bounced up and down on him.

Jack only offered a wicked laugh in return, and continued to maul her with hands and mouth as he serviced her, "Well then... I guess you win the bet..." he chuckled.

And so. The evening wore on.

2002-07-23 20:48:00,
Fallout,

A dual IC post with Padfoot and GinnyW

It was three hours later when Fellatia had finally had her fill of Jack Grim. Both were drained mentally and physically by that point, and bordering on dehydration. Still giggling from the hysteria of the pleasure they had shared, they dressed, then after sharing another, long groping snog, prepared to leave the broom closet. Jack brushed his long hair back out of his face, and grabbed his Firebolt. "Ready to depart the ride?" he grinned at Fellatia. She grinned, and nodded, taking his free hand in hers, and placing her other hand on the door knob.

Ginny was fed up of being cooped up in the Gryffindor common room and decided to go for a look walk, heading out of the portrait hole to the left, just wandering aimlessly. She started humming to herself as she rounded a corner.

Fellatia gave Jack a quick kiss again as she turned the knob, and stepped out of the closet. You could almost see the steam that evacuated the small dark room with them, but you could certainly smell the carnal residue that wafted out behind them. Fellatia spotted Ginny first, and snarked, "Oh look, it's one of the poor little Weasleys...."

Hearing the word "Weasley" was no big deal to Ginny any more, she casually glanced up to see what lovely student of hers had mentioned her name this time. When she focused on the fact it was Fellatia Flint, the school whore, she let out a loud gasp seeing she was with JACK of all people, looking as if they'd just....'THEY COULDN"T HAVE!' she thought to herself.

Jack DID in fact have a stupid, "Yeah, I've been shagged silly" look on his face, that is until he spotted Ginny standing there gob smacked, and hurt. No doubt about that. His grin vanished, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Fellatia beat him to it. That was bad. "Aw.... look at the poor little Weasley Jack... She has a crush on you... Look at how she stares at you..." she taunted.

Jack was still too stunned to say anything. His gut was in a knot. Fellatia didn't miss a beat however, "Well he's TOO GOOD for you Gryffindor wankers!" she hissed. "He belongs to ME! And he belongs to Slytherin! He is WAY out of your league little one, so just keep on walking..." she said with acid tongue and walked on down the hall dragging Jack behind her. Jack looked back at Ginny over his shoulder, pleading with his eyes. "Ginny.... I...." he called back.

Ginny couldn't believe what she saw. She opened her mouth to say something, but her eyes filled with tears and she ran the other way, not stopping until she was all the way out of the doors and standing in front of that lake. She started to sob, and sank down at the base of the tree. 'How could he....well she was right, I'm nothing, I'm a nobody!'

"GINNY!" he called after her as she ran off. Fellatia turned on her heel and glared at Jack, hate in her pale eyes. "What the hell are you doing? Are you fucking her too??" she spat at him. "No!" Jack railed back, "It's not that at all!" "Well, WHAT then? Are you a Gryffindor lover or some shit?" she growled. "No!" Jack replied, realizing he was quickly skating out onto thin ice here. "I have her in one of my classes, and YES, she likes me." "So WHAT?" was her retort. Jack continued, "She is in my POTIONS Class, you twit. She's my lab partner. What do you think will happen if she tells Snape what she saw?" he hissed back at her.

Fellatia paused, seeing the danger there, and knowing the Swoon Effect Jack had on all the girls she knew, she could only imagine the effect he would have on the Weasley. Her face curled up into a cruel smile. "Fine. You go chat her up, and make sure she keeps her mouth SHUT." she ordered, then suddenly her face and manner were all sugar again as she held Jack's jaw softly in her hand and kissed him again. "I will see you later, Jackie boy..." she cooed, then walked off. Jack watched her go, then turned and ran off in the direction Ginny had gone.

Ginny sat under the tree, furiously picking at the grass and sobbing so hard, she could have sworn people from miles away could hear her, but she didn't care. "HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID!" she yelled, and looked down at her reflection in the water letting out a scream and throwing a rock in the water. She curled up under the tree.

Jack had just exited the castle, and engaged his fine hearing when he heard Ginny scream. He quickly mounted the new broom, and sailed off in the direction the cry had some from. "There you go again Black, thinking with your dick and getting your ass in a sling..." he berated himself under his breath as he flew around the grounds until he spotted the small form near the lake, illuminated by the light of the full moon. He turned the broom in her direction and flew over, landing about 20 feet away. He picked up the broom, and called out, "Ginny?"

Ginny quickly sat up when she heard her name and yelled furiously, "Go away whoever it is, I don't care, I don't want to hear it." Ginny hugged her knees and refused to look up, or make eye contact with whoever it was that was wishing to speak with her.

Jack looked down at the ground, he felt like crap. Lower than he could ever recall in his entire life. He continued walking until he stood right next to her. "Ginny... I don't expect you to forgive me. I'm not even going to ask..."

Ginny continued to stare at the ground while tears were flowing down her cheeks. She felt betrayed and used, and she knew no matter what he said, she was going to get him back for it, she just didn't know how. She decided it would be best to say something, so she opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a shaky, "I....I...." and she started shaking uncontrollably.

Jack dropped the broom on the grass, and sat down behind Ginny. He put his hand on her shoulders, and opened his mouth to talk, but found that he couldn't find the words. "Ginny..." he said at last. "I am so wrong for you.... I wanted to tell you, but you found out this way instead," he said softly.

"Don't touch me," she said barely audible. "Just a lousy, no good Slytherin..."

Jack recoiled from her as if he had been hit with a whip, but this cut far deeper. "I am NOT just a lousy Slytherin!" he retorted, suddenly angry, and on the defensive. "There is more to me than you will ever know. You can't judge me!"

She turned around as quick as he had pulled away. "AND WHAT DO YOU CALL WHAT YOU JUST DID?! Does that make you ADMIRABLE?! I don't think so...and I can too judge you just as you have judged me to be a poor, no good, little Weasley," she spat the last few words out.

Jack fell back on the grass onto his ass, shocked by her fury, for a second it stunned him. Then he found his voice again. "I don't need you to judge, me or anything I do! My life is my own to do with as I want now! I never said you were poor or no good!" he replied "I was nice to you. Better than most people around here!"

Ginny looked confused for a moment, and softly spoke "Yes, you were nice to me, something I don't find often, and you know what, I'm sure you could find someone a lot better than me to be speaking to right now. So why don't I do you a favor and leave you to sit up on your high horse." With the last few words Ginny stood up, wiped at her eyes furiously and turned her back on Jack, intending to go back up to the castle.

Jack sat there, stunned and wounded for a moment, then got up to go after her. He grabbed up the broom, but she had a long head start on him. She beat him into the castle, and thanks to her wondering around, took the shortcut back to Gryffindor Tower. He arrived, tired and out of breath just as the portrait painting of the Fat Lady had closed. The Fat Lady gave him a long, stern glare, and shivering from past transgressions here, Jack swore to himself, and turned, heading back toward the dungeons.

2002-07-23 23:26:00,
Way to go arse hole.

Well, the evening started out well enough. A late afternoon in Hogsmeade with Harry, a new Firebolt for me...

Then I came back to the school, and got snagged and dragged into a broom closet by the one woman Slytherin welcoming committee. I don't need to go into details, you know what happened. Three hours worth. Jesus Christ. She had this little silver charmed Cock Ring...

Anyway... that was all well and good until we came out of the closet. No, not like THAT...

We stepped out and got busted by Ginny Weasley. Wonderful. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if Fellatia hasn't opened her mouth and tore the girl up. Fuck. I should have said more that I did, but didn't.

I let Fellatia drag me around by my dick until she started ragging on me. I got rid of her, and went to find Ginny. To apologize yes, but yeah... to try and get her not to rat me out. Fuck, like I need THAT coming down on my head from Snape...

Anyway, I found her out by the lake, and well... you know how smooth I am with the ladies? Right. You got it. I made it fucking WORSE. She really hates me now. I can tell, and I can't blame her. But Hell! We aren't going out, and JESUS! I sound LIKE a fifteen year old!!! I am going to kill Albus. This is going to drive me the last acre to insanity...

She ran off, I tried to chase her down and lost her at the Fat Lady. Great. Well, I know cutting her up doesn't work, right? So then I had to sneak back into my dorm. That was an event in itself. Someone set a trap on the fucking mirror. Malfoy I am guessing, and Snape just missed catching me.

He will come after me in the morning. I know it. I suppose that is the only GOOD thing about this plot. He's got his hardon of hate for me now, instead of Harry and his friends.

I AM going to get into heaven after all this, right??? Right. I am gonna sneak a fag, then go to sleep. I hope I never wake up.

2002-07-24 16:04:00,"
Double Potions, a deadly brew.

Jack didn't want to get out of bed today. Last night, in all it's lurid glory, and drama was still playing out in his head. The long shower he took as well didn't help, nor did breakfast. Then following a interrogation session by Malfoy and Co. about what was rumored to have happened in the closet the night before, Jack left with a shove and a snarl and walked alone down to the Potions Class Room for the first class of the day. Double Potions with Gryffindor house. At least he could keep an eye on Harry.

Jack walked down into the class room. He was one of the first to arrive. Before the Gryffindors. That should hopefully get him points in his favor. Looking around, he took a seat in a row near the back. Let the shorter students take the front. With a nod to his House mates, he set down his books, and opened up a roll of parchment, and readied a quill.

As more students filed in Severus stepped from his office into the classroom where he managed to sweep to his desk, feet seemingly not touching the floor beneath that fall of robes and cloak. His hands were in front of him, fingers entwined and letting the cuffs fall about his wrists. Silence, as they enter. Oppressive silence in its nonentity. Eventually Neville Longbottom enters last, broad cheeks red with effort of rushing from whatever delayed him this time. Snape swivels his head around, owl-like, to watch him take the last vacant seat at the front of the class. He starts speaking. "Class. Today I shall teach you how to make a distillation of Servatus. In this class I demand your fullest attention and dedication. Anyone who I feel is lacking in this respect will be sent from my class and will report to the Headmaster, before seeing me later tonight. I cannot stress enough the seriousness of this lesson." He looks about, waiting until each student has met his eye, even briefly. His voice *is* deadly serious, with no sneering irony behind his words.

Jack sat with his chin in his palm, watching Snape with rapt attention. He felt the potion in his system taking him over once again, putting him in "Good Student" mode, and he found that by just letting his mind go blank, Jack took over. He is taking notes, and listening with an acute ear to everything being said, even if his heart is not in anything but pain and anguish. Jack noted the name of the potion, underlining it. With that done, he waited for more direction from the ominous form in front of him.

Snape's painfully neat handwriting curled up and down the board he had pulled down, dictating the ingredients and instructions. "This is a highly diluted, almost inactive version and no, I will not tell you how to make the full thing, nor will you find it in any of the books here. This, mild form, often forms part of the fodder for some more temperamental creatures kept," his nose wrinkles in distaste. "Other household uses include repellents, or medical uses for suppressants. This is so mild the most if could do to you would be to make you a little more drowsy and susceptible to suggestion," he dictated, from memory. He waited as he watches quill hands scribble, Neville's untidy scrawl taking the longest to settle. "Can anyone tell me anything further about it?" he asked, looking vaguely bored at this point.

One hand shoots up before any other has a chance, a narely-wriggling Hermione at the other end. Eyes roll heavenward and back, waiting for another, and when it does not come he nods almost imperceptibly. "Sir, the distillations are indistinguishable from the actual potion except by effects." A smug smile.

"Almost. Almost indistinguishable, but correct. Can any of you possibly think why we should be making something your mothers would be using on the rats in her kitchen, then, other than economy?"

Jack lifted his hand slowly up into the air, this time before Hermione, and waited for the inevitable strike of lightening from the black clad cloud at the front of the classroom.

Snape clicked his tongue against his teeth, barely breaking stride, "Grim?" he said completely inflectionlessly.

Jack folded his hands in front of him before answering, then said in a steady voice. "At full strength, the potion Servatus mimics the effects and control a person has over another person as if he were being directed under the Imperious Curse. The Imperious Curse is of course banned from use by law abiding wizards and witches, and those not under the employ of the Ministry of Magic." he calmly stated, then waited for Snape's reply.

"All correct, Grim. So why should I ask you to brew this version?" he leads, voice silky and with nothing. No barb, no spite... deathly empty. For once he wants to give absolutely nothing away, and not just the appearance of it. The other students crane their necks to look at Jack, some with annoyance, others with interest, Hermione with a mingle of annoyance and respect. Some look a little frightened, by him, or by the potion, it is hard to tell.

Jack cleared his throat, oblivious to the looks he was getting, and responded, "Because to brew the potion at full strength and to put it in the hands of students, and inexperienced, would be a bad choice of action. At this level. The proper brewing and manipulation of the potion can be tested, but without the overwhelming effects." he said calmly, eyes front. He then paused again. Serve returned. Volley?

"Points well made, but a little short of bulls eye," is the best Snape offered. He let a smile curve his lips but not reach his watchful eyes. "Rather I should like you all to acquire some respect for this potion. And also, the taste." He watched as some of the fifth years looked uncomfortable and Ron Weasley shot daggers at him. "That is because, class, if it is ever used on you, you should be able to recognize it. Those of you with more delicate senses, who could make an estimate by eye or nose may even be able to avoid taking it, but at least the rest may know what they are in for, perhaps even if it is the last thing they know."

Jack made a face. He was NOT looking forward to drinking more foul tasting potions. Didn't they ever brew one that tasted good? He continued on with his notes, and looked over at Malfoy who was giving him a wide, wicked grin. He had plans for this shit already. That was easy enough to read. Jack returned the look with a half hearted wink, then went back to taking notes. When he was done, he waited for the cue to start the brewing process.

Snape waved a hand, revealing the ingredients and motioned them to begin. The students bustled about, getting their things and more than a few elbows prodded other people. The Potions Master stormed closer, towering behind one Gryffindor boy who had just been caught by Crabbe and sent him scuttling away. Finally things settled down a little and Snape made his way to his habitual pausing place from his pacing.

As it turned out, Jack was odd man out in the Fifth year class. Everyone had buddied up, and this had left him stag. That was fine with him, as long as it did not attract more attention from Snape. He preferred to work alone. He had gotten used to solitude a long time ago. So once the ingredients were laid out before him, he began the repetitious task of sorting, weighing, and cutting the herbs.

Time drew ever onwards and after finally tiring of what disparaging comments he could muster, the tall figure in black slunk into the shadows, feeling the darkness envelop him softly, softly. He was still in class, still the teacher, but only a small part of his mind was concentrated on that fact. The chill of a draft from under the door blew about his feet, cooling them almost maddeningly until his toes went numb and he concentrated on it, testing himself to see if he could bear to stay there for longer than before.

The cool swept in and his thoughts swept out, out over the Servatus which he could smell, the invisible fumes coiling about the room. Out amidst the cauldrons, where life and death itself could be contained- created. Out amidst his realm. And in that trek he found when his gaze focussed that he was staring at something in particular, but he wasn't all too surprised. Jack was working alone, just off to one side, but in the middle of his field of vision. He was bent over his task, which must have been a little uncomfortable because these benches catered for the first years upwards and he was not a short boy.

Severus knew from experience all about those hard, unforgiving stools which he hadn't changed in all the time he'd been here. All the better to keep them awake. High, too, which restricted a lot of knees and made stretching difficult. But Snape's gaze was locked above that, where the hair fell forwards, the briefest flashes of the nape of his neck that showed when he moved. He was still staring intently when the draft increased and he realized with some disappointment someone was at the door- a telltale shadow- and about to knock.

Jack was fully enveloped in the task at hand. That was one advantage to this spell upon him. It made the tedious task of studies almost enjoyable. He guessed this was done so he could focus on the "Mission at hand" and not getting good marks. What would James say if he could see him now? As he worked, he could tell when Snape had stopped pacing. The steps may be silent most times, but the swirl and swoosh of all that fabric carried a breeze, sound and scent all of it's own. This was lost on Jack for the most part at the moment.

That is until he heard a knock on the classroom door, and just about all activity halted as the comely form of Fellatia Flint entered and she made a promenade to the far side of the classroom to hand a note to Professor Snape. She was obviously taking the long way around, parading her wares for the males in attendance. Her bright eyes flicked around the classroom, and alighted upon Jack. Jack caught her gaze, and if only to preserve his cover, gave her a slow raise of an eyebrow and a smirk before returning to his task at hand. Some hushed whispers that had started, raised slightly in volume.

Snape snatched the note and read it quickly and his expression changed from discontent to sour humor. "Thank you Miss Flint," he hissed, as though he'd like to do anything OTHER than thank her, the look of pure distaste he'd shown upon her entry rising steadily. He did not, however, catch her interaction with Jack. She was well-known to him by now and so he didn't bother much with watching for who was currently on her hit-list. "You may go," he growled at her, crumpling the paper in his hand, letting it linger in a fist.

Fellatia merely smiled at the sour faced Professor, and did an elaborate curtsey before him before rising to her full height again, and with a flick of her hand, brushed back her long dark hair to expose the fresh necklace of love bites on her pale skin. "You are MOST welcome Professor," she smiled in her dangerous way, then turned and flounced out of the room, blowing a kiss in Jack's direction even though he was not looking her way at that particular moment. This was being done on purpose. A defensive ploy. As Fellatia passed the Gryffindor segment of the glass, the whispers became hisses, and subdued cat calls.

A snort followed on Fellatia's heels on her way out, amplified by the generous size of the professor's nose. His eyes narrowed to thin, catlike slits as he bared his teeth momentarily, covering the overt show of aggression with an immediately following bark; "Right. Have you all finished?"

Most of the class made noises in the negative, but since he had been working without the hindrance or distraction of a partner. Jack was further along than most. Save for Harry and Hermione. "Nearly so. Professor" he muttered as the gave his potion another stir, and looked over the top of the cauldron and sniffed.

"Then hurry up, I want you all to have tested a working batch before the end and if you don't get it done soon enough you'll find yourselves out there doing whatever anyone suggests to you without blinking an eyelid!" Sharp, harsh, even for Snape, the voice rattling dryly in his throat as he stormed to the front of the class.

Jack shuddered at that thought. Right down to his Sirius bones he did. He gave his potion some more stirs, and a final look. Then he looked over at Harry and Hermione, they appeared to be done. He was waiting for them to call out they were ready first, then Snape's admonition of earlier came back to him, "Be first next time," So just as Hermione raised her hand, Jack did likewise. "Professor!" was called out in tandem, both in a light alto, and in tenor.

Snape snarled, glanced at the two and then said, "What are you waiting for? Fetch them here!" Hermione and Harry jumped up and carried it carefully between them, not spilling a drop. As they neared the table Snape stalked up and peered at the thin, golden-yellow brew. His nostrils twitched a second and he nodded, looking next to Jack.

Jack stood up, and carefully lifted the heavy cauldron and walked with it to the front of the class. It started to slosh as he did so. He paused, then adjusted the cadence of his steps to avoid slopping all down the front of him or Snape. At last he reached the appointed location and set the cauldron down for inspection.

The same ritual greeted this batch and Snape looked up to a forest of hands, some held straight up (Slytherin) and some less proud (Gryffindor). He fumed as he spoke. "These two will do. Form two orderly lines behind the cauldrons, you must all try this as soon as possible." Spindly fingers called two ladles over to lie in the cauldrons and he waited to watch them drink.

Jack looked up at Snape as he was handed a ladle and cleared his throat before speaking, he could already feel the pre effects of the potion, just from all the fumes. "Professor? Shall I take a sample then serve to the others or shall they dip themselves?" he asked, and some where in the back of his head, heard his Sirius-self screaming.

Snape's head whipped round to pin Jack. "It seems you don't need any already," he quipped. "They can see to themselves." He stepped back, slowly pulling his cloak about him with exaggerated care, watching the students take the doses.

Jack's face flushed red, "Yes, Professor," and looking away, he set the ladle down and stepped back, hopefully out of range of both Snape's gaze and the fumes. He sidled over toward a window nearby, and closing his eyes for just a second, inhaled and exhaled deeply to try and clear his head.

Harry and Hermione had paused only to listen to Snape's response, and Ron was just behind them. Harry smiled at Hermione as he took a draught, trying to keep the displeasure of it from his features for his friends. The potion diffused through him and his cheeks blushed a little, his pupils dilating and his breathing slowed. He looked serene. "Er, you might want to sit, Harry," Ron whispered in his ear, seeing how he was holding up the queue and Harry promptly sat right down cross-legged where he was. Ron went a brighter shade of red and dragged him to his feet. The Potions Master waved a hand, stifling the immediate 'see how the mighty have fallen' and settling for, "That, students, is why you need to be able to recognize this potion."

Jack was watching from the wings and couldn't help but smile at the antics of the others. His wandering eye DID catch something else however. Near the end of the line. Malfoy was standing behind his twin gargoyles and was siphoning off some of the potion into a small glass phial. When done, he corked it, and dropped it into his pocket before moving forward with the line. Jack narrowed his eyes, and pondered his next move. Two halves of him were internally at war.

The last two students were taking their doses, and Pavarti Patil was glowering at the Slytherin Kris who was laughing at the Gryffindors, all of whom had taken the full amount and were looking slightly inebriated. Most of the Slytherins had only half-filled the ladle in their cauldron. When they had taken it, finally, a slow, rhythmic voice came from the front of the class. "You will all sit in your places. You are under Servatus. You will remember this feeling, remember it for the rest of your lives, if nothing else. No one will say or do anything until I give you permission." Snape's mellifluous chant slowly wound down and he watched the students in varying degrees of intoxication.

Jack stood there, stunned for a moment, then watched as the semi-stoned students bumped into each other, walking zombie-like to get back to their seats. His head felt clearer, then he realized, he had better not show that fact. So mimicking the others, bouncing off of Goyle for good measure and sending him into Crabbe, he shuffled back to his seat, and sat with hands folded on the table before him. He adopted a half lidded stoner stare that he knew well, and waited.

Snape moved slowly to his desk, actions easy and unhurried. Slowly he stepped onto the slightly raised dais and pulled back the chair only just enough to give himself access. One leg slid under the desk and he eased himself into the small space, chair close enough to the desk that he didn't need to pull it forwards when he had arranged himself into something approaching a comfortable position. Then-- he closed his eyes.

Jack blinked at the action taken by Snape, and slowly looked around the classroom at the rest of the students. All were sitting like glassy eyed dolls, staring straight forward, not moving. Jack swallowed, then looked at Snape again. Did he KNOW Jack hadn't taken the potion? Was this a test? A trap? Jack bit down on his lower lip and waited a bit long to see what would happen. He mimicked the position of his classmates, and just... sat.

The minutes inched slowly past, crawling gradually up to the time the next lesson would start and the students would have to leave. Snape counted, mentally, but he didn't focus totally on the numbers, the calculations... he knew how strong the potion should have been when made properly, could almost taste the potency when he smelt it... mental calculations weighed up the strength, the fine threads of power, and the mass and constitution of his slightest, most vulnerable student. >>Should be enough time, should be, left plenty of room to spare... Didn't I?<< His breathing slowed, the vapors easing his relaxation and he realized he had left them here when really that would draw out the process. He concentrated- hard- and covered the cauldrons, letting a silent sigh slip past his lips as the air became a little clearer. He hadn't really wanted to do that, but he had to. Another minute, then those he'd seen only taking a small amount would begin to return to normal. A minute more to sit.. Worst came to the worst and he could always purge them... not that he wanted to have to...

Jack was still fighting off the effects of the slight contact high he was getting when Snape brushed past him. Snape paused lust long enough to cover his cauldron now back on it's stand, and then another scent reached Jack's hyper sensitive nose. The Smell. THAT smell from his dream. Panic welled up in him, an emotion that no doubt would have been suppressed had he drank the potion, and he suddenly let out a gasp and stood up from his stool. The table he was sitting at was too low for his long legs and they hit before he was fully upright, sending him back down onto the stool with a thud, and a grunt of low level pain.

The Potions Master was slowly threading his way back to his seat when the kerfuffle, followed by the grunt, caused him to spin, suddenly highly alert, all the last few minutes of meditation driving what control he had managed to veneer over himself into a tangled knot deep in his stomach. What the-? Jack had not schooled his expression fast enough, and when his eyes did flicker open, they met Snape's staring back at him. The professor's face was a study of inexpression and he simply stood, not making a noise. Fortunately the other students, even Malfoy, were still too zoned out to notice, but they eventually began to shift in their seats, stretch, yawn, and look about. Snape looked away, eyes not communicating anything, and went back to the front.

Jack suddenly felt fear, raw, pant shitting fear wash over him, along with a sweat all over his back. He wasn't sure why, but as the others started to recover from their stupor. He set about gathering his things, with trembling hands, and vowed to be the first one out of the door when the bell rang. Once his supplies were stowed, he sat there leaning on his book bag as it rested on the table, his heart pounding, and his ears ringing. Sounds of doom only he could hear.

Snape drew himself up slowly, unfolding like some great black bird, resettling its feathers and he strode to the door, wafting between Harry, Hermione and Jack. He stopped at the door. "Before you go I must check you are not still affected- or there could be some--- unfortunate consequences. Your homework is to write a list of at least ten spells which have potion counterparts such as these and write a comparison of their effectiveness and general usage. Line up." The students, some still a little groggy, headed for the door, looking a bit unnerved.

Jack stood up, more carefully this time, and allowed himself to be shoved toward the back of the Slytherin line, he didn't want anymore attention drawn to him. He spotted Malfoy whispering something in the ears of Crabbe and Goyle and then recalled the flask of potion he was pilfering. Again, he wrestled with his conscience over what to do. Telling Snape now, and he would be branded a fink. Don't tell Snape and he risked becoming a victim of the potion at an unnamed time in the future. Jack ran the choices over and over in his mind until he found himself standing before Snape. Malfoy and company were gone.

As the second-to-last student filed past and headed off, thankfully, to their next class with a few minutes spare, Snape turned to face Jack. "Look up," he commanded, waiting for him to meet his eyes, ready to look for signs of Servatus still lingering---hah. But while the boy's pupils were still wide; his breath fast and shallow. Conflicting reports, then. But Snape, no matter what he thought, couldn't let him go with even the suspicion that he could be influenced. "Stay," he commanded and walked to his desk, sliding open one of the cupboards with the ease of one who knows where everything is by touch alone. "Take this. It should do nothing more than neutralize whatever unnatural thing is running in your bloodstream now." He offers a small, black pill. Foreseeing hesitation he adds, "Safer than what I have just had you brewing." That he suspects Jack hadn't been fully under, he gives no sign, even though he knew that the boy would know he had noticed.

Jack nodded at first, then gave his head a shake, as if trying to clear his head, and sending his hair back over his shoulders in a shimmer of ebony. "Thank you sir," he said quietly, then taking the pill he popped it into his mouth and shouldered his bag before making a beeline for the classroom door, and freedom.

Snape stood by the doorway as the newest Slytherin ran after his house mates, just in time to beat the majority of the crush as the bell went. A throng of Ravenclaws approached, blocking his view as they discussed some treaty from the past, just learned in History of Magic in low but animated tones. They hushed as they saw him, loitering by the doorway, and followed him silently into the Potions classroom. Yet another lesson, but he had a feeling that some sharp words would soon be exchanged, and explanations demanded.

Jack ran down the hall, not to get to the next class, but to the first arrow loop he could find. He leaned into it, and with a skilled tongue, spat the black pill back out through the narrow opening and down to the grounds below. He wiped at his tongue with the palm of one hand, while pulling a flask from his robe with the other. A quick mouthful, swish, swirl, then a spit into a nearby urn, and he felt better. The brandy was nasty tasting, but had a high alcohol content and was the fastest form of mouthwash he could lay hands on at the moment. He stood there for a moment longer, heart rate and breathing returning to normal slowly as he leaned against the wall, and covered his eyes with his forearm. "And I though I had already been to Hell..." he muttered then headed off toward his next class.

2002-07-24 21:34:00,
Boys will be boys.

A Dual IC post with Jack, Ginny, Malcolm Baddock, and Prof. McGonnagal.

Jack came out of History of Magic not really remembering the class at all. He had a page full of notes on Goblin Revolutions, but didn't recall writing them. He deduced he was still stoned from the Potions Class, despite not having drank the potion. He swapped shoulders with his book bag, and followed the few diligent Slytherins to the Great Hall for study. He wanted to get that damn potions assignment done early, he had plans for the evening after dinner. Finding a mostly empty table was easy, and after setting down his books, he set to work, head leaning in one hand as he wrote with the other.

Ginny had been cooped up in her dorm most of the day, she only had one class, transfigurations which she has first thing in the morning. Her mind had been preoccupied with thoughts of last nights events. She had large bags under eyes from having tossed and turned with restless sleep the night before. Ginny grabbed some parchment and her Transfiguration book to get some work done on her research assignment. She made her way out of the Portrait hole, stopping at the library, but frowned at the site of all the students in there. She had higher hopes that the Great Hall wouldn't be so full this early and continued down the hallways until she stood in front of the already open door and stepped into the hall.

Jack was looking down at his assignment, "Write a list of at least ten spells which have potion counterparts such as these and write a comparison of their effectiveness and general usage." He sighed, loudly as he flipped through his book and wrote down the list first. He ran his hand through the front of his long hair, shoving in out of his eyes only until it slid down again. This was a nervous habit, but he couldn't very easily light up in here. He looked up briefly, looking around and noticed the rest of the Slytherins that were in here were avoiding him. Great. He liked it that way.

Ginny looked around for somewhere to sit alone, and walked down the long side of one table and sat down at the empty end of a table with only 3 members occupying it. She dropped her books onto the table and sat down with a heavy sigh, opening the book to start looking up something on transfiguring animals.

Jack was already in a bitchy mood, and when the table jiggled from the dropping of books, causing his writing to go jittery, he growled loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Try shaking the table a bit MORE next time you wanker..." he said, then looked over to the side. His ferocious expression froze, then faded when he say Ginny at the table.

Ginny quickly looked up and met Jack's gaze. She was too shocked to say anything, instead she just started gathering up all of her things, not bothering to look back at Jack, and stood up.

Jack couldn't find anything to say either, and it was then Malcolm Baddock chimed in for Slytherin House, "Yeah, get out of here! Take your poor redheaded ass somewhere else!" he snarked. Jack looked back at Malcolm from his work and snarled, "YOU shut the fuck up you tosser! She may be from another house but you don't talk to ladies that way." he said with narrowed eyes. Malcolm flipped off Jack, and in a flash, Jack was on his feet and charging at Baddock.

Ginny gasped. She was used to the comments, but that Jack would stick up for her shocked her. She grabbed her things, and took the opportunity to run out of the hall. Defending her or not, she didn't want to talk to him. He had still fucked Fellatia.

Malcolm clearly didn't expect Jack to charge him, so when Jack plowed into him full speed, he knocked the wind out of the other boy, and drove him to the floor of the hall. He followed up the body check with a series of punches, the first few went unanswered until Malcolm got over the shock and started fighting back. The more timid of the students fled the area, and the rest formed a cheering, shouting circle around the two Slytherin brawlers. "Fight! Fight!" someone yelled running out of the Hall.

Moments later, Professor McGonnagal come running into the hall. One of the younger students had obviously informed her of the fight. She ran forward drew her wand and muttered a spell, the name of which could not be heard over the shouting, and the two students flew apart. stunned. "MR. GRIM and MR. BADDOCK! Just what do you think you are DOING?" she shouted at the fallen scrappers. "I would have expected better from two 5th year Slytherins..." she paused realizing this wasn't exactly true. "50 points from EACH of you for fighting." She stood there tapping her foot. "If I hear one more word of you two fighting, I will seek the Headmaster about this. For now... Professor Snape will deal with you. Follow me please." With the last word she turned and hurriedly walked out of the hall.

Jack slowly got to his feet, his head still spinning from the stunning spell, and after quickly grabbing up his books and supplies, he fell in step behind Professor McGonnagal, and brushed his hair back out of his eyes. "Shit..." he muttered. This was NOT good. This was so not good. "Jack..ass. that is what you are.... Malcolm hissed at Jack with a stare full of hate. "You're a Slytherin, what the hell are you doing fighting your own, and over a Weasley bitch of all things?" He spat. Jack leveled a deadly stare at the other boy, and bit his tongue. He would deal with him later. Now, He had much more serious things to worry about. Snape.

Professor McGonnagal led the two boys back to the entrance of Slytherin house, just adjacent to the Dungeons, and turned to give them both a stern stare. Jack averted his eyes. That woman STILL put the fear of God into him after all these years. Inwardly, he felt like crap. Like he had failed her. Again.

"Now you two listen to me. You are to go to your rooms and remain there and study until either tomorrow, or when Professor Snape sends for you. I will have your meals sent up, and I don't want to hear a sound out of either of you. Do I make myself clear?"

Both boys answered quietly in the affirmative, and watched as the Professor left. Jack ignored the glare from Malcolm, and he simply uttered the password, and went straight up to his bed. Malcolm was in his dorm, but once Jack was in bed with the curtains drawn, he was alone in his own padded and lined cell. Swearing softly to himself, he stripped off his clothes and laid out on his back staring at the canopy overhead.

Ginny knew she was only headed for more name calling and taunting if she went back to the Great Hall, so she decided to go out by the lake and watch the sun set. She opened the doors and skipped quickly down the steps and walked out to her favorite tree.

2002-07-24 22:38:00,
Another perfectly crappy day.

Well, if the horror story in Potions this morning wasn't bad enough, with Snape having us brew this mind control potion called Servatus, and take swigs of it. (I was told NOT too, but still felt some of the effects). Then after he t turned the whole class into zombies we sat there until the end of the class until he was convinced we were no longer under it's thrall. I didn't pass muster, even though I didn't drink any and he gave me a pill to take. Yeah, I spit that thing out as soon as I was out of the class.

I don't even remember the class that followed, History Of Magic. I took some killer notes apparently. Thank the fates for that at least. After that I went to study hall before lunch to get started on Snape's latest novel of an assignment.

This is where the day really went to shite. I was sitting at a table, and Ginny came in, I didn't see her, only yelled at her after she dropped her books on the table. Great. That started Malcolm Baddock into opening his big mouth. He mouthed off to Ginny, and I snapped.

Next thing I knew, I was on down him pounding the crap out of him. I was gone. Minerva came out of nowhere and stunned the both of us with a spell. Next thing I knew, we were both minus 50 points, 100 total from Slytherin, and she was escorting us back to our dorms to await execution by Snape.

This is where I am now... My meal is on my night stand, untouched. Fuck.... This is never going to work. Not in a million years. I need to get out of here before someone ends up dead.

2002-07-25 22:05:00,
Thank God for small favors.

Well, I got a Stay of Execution today. I didn't have Snape for Potions today, and since all the Teachers are wrapped up in preparation for, and attending Professor Sinestra's Birthday Party tonight, he didn't have the time to deal out what I am sure will be a most unpleasant sentence. I know Snape was told to attend, so I am sure that is why he didn't come looking for Baddock and myself today.

We were put in the servitude of Filch. God, I swear that squib is wearing the same clothes he was wearing the FIRST TIME I went through here. Personal Hygiene is completely LOST on that man. Anyway, he gave Malcolm the job of polishing every piece of brass and gold in the entry Hall, and I got to polish all of the trophies in the case, again. God, I have lost count how many times I have had to do that task. So many times that the smell of silver polish turns me on. But I digress. That was my afternoon and early evening for today.

Tomorrow will be a different story however. Not only do we have Double Potions again, but Snape will have a free Social Calendar. Plenty of time for him to put us on the rack.

I am nearly done with my Essay. I have really put a lot of effort into this one. I know that it could be perfect and he would still wipe his ass with it. Screw it. I just need to make it LOOK like I am trying. Everyone knows how unfair he marks papers, so a failing grade from Snape is not the academic death blow it would be coming from other professors.

God I am tired. Not just physically, but mentally. I am surprised I have not snapped. It must be a curse. No matter what I am put through, the true punishment is the denial of the sweet bliss of insanity.

Harry. That is what keeps me going, and James words to me years ago. "Sirius, if anything happens to Lily and I, you are all Harry will have."

Poor Harry. Two of the best parents in the world are taken from him, and he is left with me. God, I need to stop this and go to bed. Tomorrow will be another slow day in Hell. Until then...

2002-07-26 10:22:00,"
Another Class, more indigestion

I wonder, if anyone ever died from Potion Intake overdose, or from the side effects of ingesting too many different sorts over a period of a short time...

Today was potions again. It went par for the course as far a Potions go. Today's exercise in torture was to pair the Gryffindors up with a Slytherin and have one make a Poison, then the other had to identify it by scent, appearance, and taste, then create the appropriate antidote for sampling at the end of class.

I got paired with Hermione, so at least I knew she wouldn't set out to kill me outright. Poor Harry got Malfoy, of course, but both seemed to come out of the class unhurt permanently.

Another marathon essay was assigned, and as I was trying to leave after turning in my previous tome, Snape commanded me to appear in his office during lunch. My penance for the Brawl in the Hall no doubt.

Maybe I will punch him too, just to see what he does.

2002-07-26 12:29:00,
Wizard's Chess

An IC Dual RP with Padfoot and Snape.

After History of Magic, which afforded Jack the chance for a small nap due to a strategically placed book and resting his head on the desk, he watched as his house mates trundled down to the Great Hall for lunch. With a snarl, he went in the opposite direction, heading for Snape's office. He was in a sullen mood, no surprise there. He wondered if Baddock was going to get called on the carpet. Not likely he assured himself. Before he knew it, he was outside the familiar off