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 office door, knocking.

"Come," said the unapproachable voice from within, in a tone familiar to any student who had seen him so angry he was beyond yelling. Inside his office the second chair was pulled close up to his desk, smack central, and seemingly lower than usual. The Potions Master is not seated, but hovering, his back to the door, wide robes and cloak spread as if on an unseen current of ice-chill air. There is no command to sit, and he does not move to turn around.

Jack makes an obscene motion with his body before entering the office, a mock orgasm shudder, then putting on his game face, he enters the office. He looks around, sees the chair, and Snape, and remains standing, and silent.

"IT isn't meant for decoration, you know. You may be here a while. I suggest you avail yourself of it," Snape says, seemingly addressing his bookcase and making no attempt to explain what 'it' is. One hand reaches up and a finger trails idly across the old, musty looking spines before resting on one. Swiftly the book is withdrawn, and Snape sits down in his own chair, holding it beneath the table in his lap where Jack cannot read its title. He opens it and licks one finger before slowly turning a page.

Jack sighs, a soft one, and sits down in the chair, suddenly weary, and not up for the fight, he leans to the side, chin resting in his palm, and he says, "Just shoot me and get it over with. I know I am not worth your time or effort at this point. I fucked up. Did my time with Filch. Let's just get it over with...." he says in a soft voice, full of dreary resolution.

Now Snape looks up from his reading, then snaps the book shut with a cloud of dust rising. "Yes, Mr. Grim? You seek to tell me my own mind? I wonder what gives you such an... unusual position." The book is placed on the desk as he continues to stare at the browbeat boy before him. "Very well, but answer me this. Why."

Jack remains in his position, and inhales and exhales long and slow before continuing. "Why am I not worth your time, or why did I beat the crap out of that dolt Baddock? You tell me which sin you are inquiring about Professor..." he said, with not hint of cheek in his voice whatsoever, just asking a question.

Snape's eyebrow raised, but he merely said in his silky voice, "Both." He blinks, slowly, lazily, and settles his head slightly at an angle, looking for all the world like he is listening intently.

Jack takes a long breath again, and then replies. "You have bigger fish to fry than me Professor. I am just your latest infatuation. You don't like me because I don't fit into the convenient mold of a Slytherin. I am not painfully dull or unimaginative like Malfoy and his Toadies, and there for predictable, easily malleable for you. I don't cause any real trouble, save for the fight, yet you still feel you need to grind me down." he pauses. "To WHAT do you want to grind me down to Professor?" he asks, then continues without enough pause for your answer, "As for Baddock. I don't care who it is, you don't talk to women that way, not in front of me. Different house, race or creed, you show them respect or you keep your flipping mouth shut." he says, punctuating the sentence with a slow blink and nothing more.

The vaguely amused smile broadens into plain delight at this outburst, glad to see that Grim hasn't suddenly lost his spine. "First of all, Grim, you neglect something. Perhaps you are merely jus one more fish in the pond, but, to mix metaphors you cannot appreciate the work of art seeing both the big picture and the smallest brushstroke." He watches to see what Grim's expression will reveal, but doesn't let him speak. "As for grinding you down; what, and rid myself of the only break in the monotony of *this*?" He gestures vaguely with one hand, managing to encompass more than just the room.

"Grind, no. Direct, possibly, but I assume that is no longer fully possible." A wistful note there, gone in an instant. Then he settles back, cradling his hands on his chest. "And as for petty name-calling..." he does not finish the expression. "Very well. You have already cost this house enough points, Mr. Grim. What you do is entirely up to you, as long as it stays private and does not affect this house. I shall say this one and once only, Grim. So listen carefully." Snape leans forwards, eyes dark and suddenly dangerous, "Don't. Get. Caught."

Jack returns the dark stare with one of impassive, apathy, "I never do get caught, unless I don't care, and WANT to... " he says with a deadly serious tone to his voice, and then gracefully rises from the chair, "I shall say I was suitably flogged in the dungeon by you sir, and now shall return to my meal if you have no other services you wish me to provide you this afternoon." he says, again, looking bored.

"You wanted to get caught?" Snape snorts, then adds sotto voce, "And I though Albus had found the most wretched of his dependents already..." "Go, Grim. Go unless you want to wash that attitude out-- and you would be, could I suffer your presence any further."

Jack nods, rising from his chair and turns to leave. He smiles a grin unseen by Snape, and walks toward the door, reaching both hand up to finger shake out his long hair as he goes, draping it back over his shoulders.

Snape's eyes close lazily, not feeling as irritated as he had before. Until he realized he still had the other boy, Baddock, to deal with. A boy who had by all accounts come out completely the worst with not only the new boy, but one a full year younger. He sighed. That wasn't going to be as fun at all.

2002-07-26 19:51:00,
Man's Best Friend,
OOC Sex Madness, just because. NOT relevant to the Game Plot.

Sirius shifts to his NORMAL form, wanders into Snape's Office, sits in his chair, and pops open a bottle of mead to sip at while resting his boots on the desk.

Snape strolls in, cloak slung over one shoulder. Knocks feet from his desk and grabs at the mead. He grumbles, "Share."

Sirius slowly replaces his feet BACK up on the desk, and watches Snape slurp at the Mead. He then reaches into his coat pocket, and pulls out a pack of fags. He slips one between his lips then offers them to Snape, "Rough day?"

Snape steals a fag and sits on his desk, right up against Sirius' feet. Draws. Exhales. Stares. "There's another kind?"

Sirius lights up, and does the sexiest of French Inhales, and looks up at Snape from under his long bangs. "I have my good and my bad days. You make your own misery Snape. Always have..."

Snape said, "You think I do this on purpose?" Snape snarls, looks down at the mead and murmurs a spell, sending the liquor so strong the fumes make his eyes water.

Sirius leans forward, placing his hand over Snape's, and steers the mead to his lips for a long drink, then leans back again. "Yes. I do. It's easier this way. No attachments, no love. No strings. Free and easy. Mobile."

"No strings?" he mimics a pout, the expression looking ridiculous on his face before he snorts derisively. A deeper swig and he pushes off from the desk, ignoring the papers, essays, notes, fluttering to the floor behind him.

"Nope. Never known you to have a lover except for your girlfriend Palmala...." he snickers, and finishes his cigarette, dropping it into a stale student potion, which promptly flares up in the cauldron.

Severus throws the empty mug at Sirius' head without turning around, making his way a little muggily into his office, and from there to his chambers, waving his hand vaguely and murmuring the keys to the wards, leaving the doors swinging open before him.

Sirius lets a low long chuckle ring out, easily dodging the mug, and after a moment, gets up and follows the path taken by Snape.

One long hand reaches up, the work-heavy robes falling back leaving only the white undershirt sleeve clinging to Snape's thin wrist. A twist, a flick, two fingers, and the door slams shut in Sirius' face, the smirk visible on Snape's face even through the door.

Sirius nearly misses getting his nose crushed by the heavy door, and he laughs softly. "Oh, feeling shy are we?" he calls out. Then getting an idea, he shifts to dog form, and sits by the door. He starts to whine, and scratch at the door.

Snape growls in response, and, suddenly inspired, says softly, "Lanua canis" and a dog-flap appears in the door.

Sirius looks at the door, cautiously looking for a hidden guillotine blade, and seeing none, he goes through to the other side. Once there, he sits near the door on a rug, wags his tail back and forth on the cold slate, and gives a single happy bark at Snape.

Snape refuses to look at the dog-shape sitting on his rug, calling "Claudio" and healing his door before sinking into a high-backed, ancient-looking chair, dragging a footstool and an old, dangerous looking bottle along with an Accio or two.

The large black dog smiles, and with a nimble gait, jumps up onto the large bed just beyond, circles three times, digs at the comforter a bit with his front paws, then lays down. He rests his head on his front paws, and looks over at Snape. "Woof" he barks softly.

"Oh shut up," Snape says, but with little conviction. "I am trying to get drunk and you are not helping very much." He shuffles into the chair, struggling to get comfortable in the stiff chair-- his own choice, obviously, and resettles his footstool, again, in an attempt to the ache in his knees.

Sirius makes a half growly, whiny sound, that sort of noise dogs make when they "talk". He doesn't sound convinced.

"Tired. What part of that don't you understand?" Severus snaps, still feeling a little awkward about practically talking to himself and knowing that he really SHOULD just bloody well ignore him. Puppy-dog eyes imagined, he sighs and says in a voice as far from inviting as possible, "At least make yourself useful, then," he says and kicks the footstool away irritably.

The dog then makes a sound that can only be described as a laugh, then gets up, stretches and jumps down onto the floor. He noses his way under Snape's feet, and lays down on his side. Being the size and shape of a Newfoundland, he makes a very warm and plush foot stool indeed. Again, he makes that growly talking sound again.

Snape snorts and tips back the bottle, eyes closed as he leans back. Eventually he lifts his feet from the fluffy black pillow, to the surprise of Sirius, only to kick off his shoes and socks and press cold, bare feet against the Animagi's side, wriggling them into the thick fur, not looking nor asking for permission.

Sirius turns his head, and snaps at the cold pale feet, then after nipping at a big toe playfully, lays his head back down, and lets out a long sigh.

A snort of what could have been laughter comes from Snape and he lowers the hand holding the now-empty bottle over the arm of the chair, fingers barely gripping it by its slick, wet neck. He starts digging his toes in and working the dog's side with the balls of his feet, moving to follow the spine and reaching with one up the neck and between the ears. "Like that, don't you?" he asks, slightly slurred.

Sirius makes a low rumbling sound in his throat. Yeah, he likes that. He has aches uncounted from his years of youthful abuse, and imprisonment. He then closes his eyes, and makes a soft "woof" sound, and rolls onto his back, baring his hairy belly.

Snape obliges, eyes half-lidded as he slides further into his seat to gain the extra reach for his long legs, ignoring the discomfit this puts his poor spine in, overused to rigid stances and postures. Snape concentrates first on the broad chest, then letting his feet slide to either side and rub gently where the stomach meets his front-legs. "Of course you do," he purrs.

Sirius remains on his back, his muzzle parting, and his long red tongue hangs out as he breathes a bit faster. Laying here by the fire in all this fur and getting rubbed is warming him up nicely. He gives a soft little howl, and flickers his ears to show his appreciation.

The two long, thin feet are warming up too, no longer icy to the touch. Somewhat reluctantly he slides them down so that they straddle the supine dog's form and he slowly drags the insides of his feet along the furry flank, resting at the haunches a moment and pressing them together, rubbing them there a moment, enjoying feeling the strength behind those powerful legs.

Sirius arches into the rubbing, the lower part of the dog abdomen just as sensitive as a humans. He pants a little harder, and wiggles a bit from side to side. Again me makes the rumbly growl sound, and looks up at Snape with curious eyes. Curiously enough, this dog has the same pale eyes as it's human incarnate.

The professor is now slunk deeply into his seat, arms sprawled over the high sides, the bottle very precariously held. His head is snuggled into his shoulders, giving the odd impression of a boneless doll, belied only by the active feet and the hitching, unsteady breath coming from between just-parted lips. His eyes are still closed as he continues the circular movements awhile longer, dark lashes fluttering on deathly-pale cheeks. The lips press together in thought a moment and then his eyes, even darker than usual but still with an intense, deliberate focus. One hand slaps his knee twice, before slumping back over the side, feet stopping whilst he watches to see if Sirius will obey the unspoken command.

Sirius cocks his head slightly, seeing the motion of Snape's hand on his thigh, and with a reluctant sigh, he rolls over, then walks over to sit by Snape's Chair. He sits up, then rests his large front paws and head on Snape's lap. He noses at the pale hands laying idle with his cold nose.

Snape shakes his head a little, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the cold, wet doggy-nose a second with a rueful smile, then he drops the bottle, leaving the remaining contents to spill over the floor and leans forwards in his seat, wrapping his arms about Sirius' torso with a little difficulty and lack of coordination, feeling the paws scrabble against his knees for purchase as he leans back, almost toppling from his chair with the weight but managing to settle back down with Sirius half-sprawaled rather undignified in his lap, barely fitting on the chair.

Sirius struggles to get settled in Snape's lap, shift his paws around carefully, trying to be graceful, but the lap of the Potion's Master is not very steady, and he slips once, stepping on soft bulges in Snape's crotch before he manages to curl up, barely in the man's lap. He rests his head on the arm of the chair, and let's out a long, contented sigh.

Snape rumbles deep in his throat, and he rakes the fingers of one hand up the dog's skull, letting his thumb scratch behind one ear as he shuffles slightly, painfully hard from the intoxicating brew, but letting the rhythmic movements keep some rein on his actions. The other hand rests on the dip of spine just between the hips, palm spread there and fingers crawling down one side.

Sirius makes little soft moaning sounds as he is scratched and rubbed. As the lower part of his back is touched, one of his hind legs begins to kick in involuntary reaction to his canine G spot being stroked. His belly rests on Snape's groin, warming it more through the material covering it.

Snape whuffs in laughter as the claws scratch a little, but not too hard to break his skin. His hands increase the pressure a little, pushing the body against him and pinning him in place but continuing the caresses, now working the neck with skilled, swift hands, kneading the muscle and tendons mercilessly.

Sirius continues to make happy little growly sounds, deep in his throat, and his hips make intermittent bucking motions as he is further stimulated. His mouth opens and he pants harder now. If Snape were to look under the massive dog, he would see a pink emergence appearing from his furry sheath.

The hand by Sirius' upper half trails around to the front, brushing past the muzzle and against the neck, his thumb pressed into the edge of Sirius' mouth, running along the teeth there. His other hand digs deeply into the fur, struggling for purchase as he bends over to catch one ear between his teeth.

Sirius shifts around in the unusual and confining grip Snape has on him, and he whines softly. He opens his mouth farther, panting, then lapping at Snape's fingers near his maw. He shifts again, this time sitting down on Snape's lap, tail swished lazily to the side, and his hind legs splayed out over Snape's thighs. Another rumble growl follows as he tugs against the tooth grip on his ear.

Snape speaks round the hold, his voice low and barely recognizable. "What?" he finally manages to get out, releasing Sirius and only restraining him gently and so that he will not fall. He stares at they grey eyes, impatient.

Sirius struggles, and jumps down from Snape's lap, he shakes his head, and then turns to face Snape. He moves forward, thrusting his muzzle forward between Snape's thighs until he finds the hardness lurking there. He feels Snape's thighs move farther apart, then nuzzles again, more urgently this time.

Snape bats at the inquiring nose, but not really hard enough to push it away. "Don't think I don't bloody know," he slurs, rolling his eyes at the laughter in the still-human eyes. He stands, a little unsteadily and stiffly, and starts making for the bed.

Sirius shift back to the form of a man, and rises to his feet, he clears his throat, letting Snape know he is no longer "alone", and then languidly shrugs out of his coat, and drops it onto the floor. His Henley sweater follows, leaving him bare chested, and then he moves forward, gripping Snape around the waist from behind. He moves his mouth near to Snape's right ear. "Well... if you won't mount me..."

An involuntarily shudder runs down Snape's spine, but otherwise his voice remains calm. "Took your time joining me," he hissed, not acquiescing, but not fighting either.

Sirius' skilled hands reach around and work at whatever fastens are on Snape's trousers, and once they are undone, he slowly slides them down the length of the Potion Master's legs. He breathes heavy on the backs of the other man's thighs, then runs a trail with the tip of his tongue from just under Snape's left buttock down the the back of his knee as he waits for him to step out of the pants now around his ankles.

Snape presses against the warm body behind him, wobbling a little in this stance, needing his feet braced to keep him upright. He supports himself with one hand on Sirius' shoulder to lift one leg, waiting for assistance.

Sirius obliges the wobbly stance by standing and with a feral grunt, bum rushing Snape forward so that this hands rest on the bed for support and makes the stripping of Snape that much easier. One the pants are discarded, he steps back, removing his own doubly quick, and then again embraces Snape from behind, nestling his own rampant manhood between the soft pale rounds ahead of him. He pants near Snape's ear, then bites down on the flesh just beneath it.

Snape is too far gone to mind, much, pushing back to feel as much of Sirius as he can, letting the pain of the bite thrill through him and embracing it, grunting in mingled pleasure and pain. "Fuck me," he says in a guttural command, still unwilling to give up control even in this position.

Sirius is beyond human speech at this point and he merely nods and gives a soft growl as he bites down on Snape's collar bone with his front teeth. He lets go of the hold only long enough to reach back to retrieve something from his coat pocket, and then apply it to himself, and with a probing shove with his thumb, Snape's anus. He works the lube into the t tense pucker, around and around until it is lubed, but not necessarily relaxed. With a grunt of lust, he pulls his thumb back out, and then replaces it with the probing tip of his cock. "This what you want....?" he breathes.

Snape nods violently, letting his hair fall forwards into his face. He pushes his legs back, taking a little more weight on his hands, sliding his legs and straddling Sirius backwards, curling his feet behind Sirius' legs, standing on the balls of his feet to press back and against him. "Now."

Sirius gives another growl, and another claiming bite as his hand move down to grip a hold on Snape's hips, and thrusts eagerly in a series of short pumping motions. He groans with each thrust, pulling back then thrusting again and repeating until he is buried to the balls inside of Snape. "Oh... yeah...." he moans near Snape's ear.

Snape is moving as easily as he can with his weight on his arms, his cock straining unattended but unable to reach it. He shudders as he feels Sirius' balls slap his ass and squirms, pain coming from both his arms and his back, blinking the black from behind his eyes. "More, want more," he squirms, gasping as he does.

Sirius obliges him, in spades. Nobody gives a rough rodeo fuck like Sirius Black. Once he sets his rhythm, he moves one hand from Snape's hip, and feels around until he gets a grip on the shaft standing alone. He begins to jack along its hard length. His hand counter times up and down to the strokes his groin makes.

Snape's breath starts coming faster, half-intoxicated and with only half the drug expelled from his system, he feels his arms start to shake under the pressure of holding him up, pulling his head back and splitting his mouth in a soundless scream of agony, bucking in Sirius' hands as he tries to keep balanced.

Sirius leans back, pulling Snape with him, taking the strain off of his arms a bit as he continues to screw him like a demon. He is surprisingly strong, even in the middle of carnal sports. His hand squeezes hard, gripping like a choke hold on Snape's cock as he pounds his fist up and down its length. The slick pre-cum fluid oozing forth provides the needed slickness. Tossing his head back, he lets out a cry of lust caught between man and beast.

Snape doesn't fight the body pulling him back, grateful for the respite more than insulted. He does, however, fight from the hand on his cock, pushing backwards in an attempt to escape the vice-like grip and the knowledge that he is close, too close. "St---stop..." he stutters. "Can't...hold..." he hisses as he turns his head to one side, needing to taste him, anywhere he can.

Sirius feels Snape turn his head, his lips on his cheek, and he then mimics the motion, capturing Snape's mouth with his own. His tongue thrusts past the thin dry lips, seeking the tongue within to assault with his own. He ignores Snape's pleas, he is closer than Snape knows, and his bodies urgent uneven rhythm is the only clue.

Snape accepts the mouth greedily, biting down hard on the bottom lip, out feeling his mouth overpowered too as he cranes his neck at so uncomfortable an angle. The pain and pleasure starts building up to a crescendo beating like a squad of fifes in his ears, drowning any sound he or his partner makes as he squirms again, legs cramping in their position locked behind Sirius' ankles. He curses madly into the fierce kiss as Sirius suddenly presses harder.

Sirius suddenly breaks the kiss, he needs air. he pants near Snape's mouth as he has to let go of his partners cock for a dual hip grip again as he goes over the edge. "Oh god.... Oh yes..... God.... fucking God...." he chants with each thrust as he pumps his load into Snape. He bends his head down, and again bites the slick shoulder near his mouth, tasting blood this time.

Snape is surprisingly quiet as he feels Sirius come inside him, the waves of movement slipping up to the base of his spine, but when sharp teeth find his neck, deliciously close to his throat, the pain is enough to send Snape over the edge, convulsing violently beneath the heavier man, his legs crashing painfully into the edge of the bed, but the only sound crossing his lips is a startled gasp.

Sirius falls down on top of Snape, still thrusting and sucking at the blood smeared on Snape's pale shoulder. Y-yeah... oh yeah... Let me hear you Snape.... Let me hear you groan. I want to hear how good this feels to you...."

Snape's knees give way and he lands emptily on the bead, not caring that his already-bruised shins are resting on the edge or that he is half-draped over it himself. His chest struggles to expand and contract under both their weight, making his rise and fall somewhat ragged. When he has recovered enough oxygen to start easing the cramps and lightheadedness he manages to spit, muffled into the sheets. "Good? I thought I didn't feel good. Only the pain I cause myself, hm?" a rasping laugh, but he hasn't;t the energy to escape yet. "No day is ever not rough when you are here to badger me."

Sirius just laughs near Snape's ear, and after planting his hands on the bed on either side of the fallen Potion's Master, he bench presses himself up, to a standing position then with a languid, slow pulling back of his hips, disengages his body from Snape's, then drops onto his ass on the floor behind him, the slumps onto his back, still panting. "Yeah.... I was born to be the thorn in the worlds' side, and the pain in your ass." he laughs.

"Mission accomplished," Snape grumbles, slowly managing to roll enough to glare at him. "Now if you don't mind, I still have the oblivion that bottle was going to provide..." he says, somewhat snootily considering his current position.

Sirius looks up at the Potions Master, ever stiff, even when not engaged in a randy buggering. He sees the wall of coldness go back up over Snape's face, and with a dismissive wave of his hand, Sirius rolls over and curls up on the rug by the fire. By the time he is in position, he is a dog again, and sound asleep.

2002-07-27 00:57:00,
Welcome to the nutter house.

It's late now, everyone in the Dorm is asleep, dreaming of the Saturday to come, the first of two days of freedom from classes and essays. Jolly. Mine is half done, I will finish it later. Right now, other thoughts fill my shattered mind.

What the Hell is wrong with Snape? I all but challenged him in his office this afternoon, told him where to sit and how, and he just... did nothing. Odd. Odd. Odd. So odd in fact, it's unnerving to me, one who knows how he normally operates.

At the end of our diatribe, when I confessed to him that I only get caught in mischief when I want to, he said the oddest thing to me. "Do what you like in private, as long as it does not reflect on this house, and DON'T GET CAUGHT!" He is giving me carte blanche? To do more of what??

My instincts sense a trap, but to what end? I CAN'T believe I am the sudden sole focus of his misdirected hatred of all mankind, or can I?

He still harangues Neville and Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors as I have seen in my own past, and heard from Harry and his gang, but it does not seem to be to the level of blatant persecution of old.

Something is amiss with the twisted old fuck, I can FEEL it. And just THAT fact, scares the piss out of me. The day that I mentally operate on the same level as Severus Snape, I will need The Kiss after all.

I am planning on running off to Hogsmeade tomorrow. I am "old" enough, and lord knows I need a good drowning in mead. I may stay the weekend there. Regain what small amount of sanity I do have. More tomorrow.

Over and out.

2002-07-27 08:17:00,
Saturday morning amusements,

Well, I am up early, for me, on a Saturday. That is because I have PLANS for the day. I am going to go to the Three Broomsticks and drink until I am rightly pissed. Oh. Right. I am a minor and a STUDENT. Damn. Well, I suppose I should make sure I am armed with wand. I can mix my own drinks then.

Speaking of armed... There is a parcel I need to recover from my room at the Inn I previously occupied prior to my internment at Hogwarts. It is destined for a secret bedroom hiding place I have already created. Albus would blow a vein if he know I had it.

I suppose I shall bring my journal along and see what prattle I come up with once pissed. It may prove an interesting read for later.

Well, here I sit, two pints down, and nothing really worth noting yet. There is of course, Snape. No, I won't go there now. Not on my day off. I must stop thinking about him. I must not linger on the feelings that creep up my spine as I feel him looking at me. Then.. there was that dream...

(journal is shut suddenly, smearing the ink of the last passage.)

2002-07-27 11:54:00,
Saturday in Hogsmeade,

An IC RP with Jack, Hermione, and NPC Harry, Ron, and later Ginny.

Hermione was not happy. Despite the plethora of threats constantly made against him, Harry had agreed to spend the day in Hogsmeade with Ron. Hermione had to go along, as the only one who seemed to have any sense.

It was a pleasant day, the sun was shining brightly and the temperature had not yet climbed into the uncomfortable. Hermione looked around nervously as the friends walked down the crowded streets, keeping an eye out for any trouble

She breathed a little easier when the trio left the open air and ducked into the Three Broomsticks.

Jack had been out of the school first thing in the morning. After a clandestine trip to his former haunt in Knockturn Alley, he had adjourned to the Three Broomsticks for a breakfast of barley, and malt. He was nursing his second pint of ale. It of course wasn't Ale Madame Rosmerta delivered. She brought Butterbeer, but that was easily remedied with a word and the way of a wand.

It was dark inside, not unusual for the pub, but the bright sun outside made the interior seem sinister. It was crowded with various sorts of wizarding folk, and it took a few minutes for Hermione, Ron, and Harry to find a table. When they were seated comfortably in a corner booth, with glasses of pumpkin juice in front of them (it was rather too hot for Butterbeer), they had a chance to truly scan the crowd. Hermione stiffened as spotted the profile of Jack Grim at the bar, his hand cupped around a pint of what she assumed was butterbeer.

Jack was not looking around as he went about his affairs. Which at the moment consisted of drinking, and scrawling in a journal. Under his robes was slung a shoulder bag, the contents of which was nefarious, and illegal. He wasn't too concerned with that however. He would just sit and drink, bothering no one, and they would do the same.

Hermione noted the journal with a smile; he didn't seem like the type. Her mind switched quickly to her own journal, which she grabbed out of Ron's hands before he could attempt to open it. He gave her a grin, and she frowned at him, stuffing it into her knapsack. She waved her hand in front of Harry to get his attention, and motioned towards the Slytherin at the bar. "I guess we weren't the only ones who decided to waste time here," Ron noted. "Think we should say hello?" Hermione shook her head vigorously, but Harry was already halfway out of the booth. She sighed and followed him over.

Jack was oblivious to the goings on around him. He was in his dark little corner, getting pissed, with only his cherished dark thoughts to accompany him. He wrote about the oddness of Snape as of late, as if putting it down on paper would purge the thoughts and unease he got more and more when in the man's presence. Something was rotten, but he couldn't quite suss what it was yet.

The Slytherin didn't notice the trio as they approached, and was only dragged out of his thoughts when Ron made rather obvious coughing noises. Hermione glared at her friend, then turned to Grim. "Er, funny seeing you here," she said in way of greeting. Jack set his pen down and closed his journal quickly, looking at the three of them with an expression of surprise.

Jack responded with the MOST unfriendly of scowls as he was disturbed, and the quickness with which he slammed the journal shut was surprising, and unnerving. Then as if a page was turned, his expression changed. Totally. He smiled, slowly. "Well, fancy seeing the Gryffindor Trio here..." he said slowly and smoothly, looking the three of them over.

Hermione couldn't put her finger on it, but she was feeling the same way she had felt in Potions the day before. Like something was out of place, and she couldn't figure out what it was. Harry didn't seem to notice, he favored Jack with a grin and motioned to the empty chairs around the table. "Okay if we sit here?" He ventured. Ron scowled, but was careful to hide it with his hand. He didn't fancy the idea of sitting with a Slytherin. Hermione poked him with a grin and motioned to the empty chairs around the table. "Okay if we sit here?" He ventured. Ron scowled, but was careful to hide it with his hand. He didn't fancy the idea of sitting with a Slytherin. Hermione poked him behind Harry's back, and the hand went down. He had a forced smile on behind it.

Jack flickered his gaze between the three of them. Forced politeness. He didn't need to read their faces, he could smell it, like so many things and emotions. He gave a neutral, affable smile and nodded. "Sure. As long as it won't damage your reputations being seen with the likes of me.." he said then drained the rest of his mug.

They sat, Harry first, with Ron and Hermione following more cautiously. There was an uneasy silence among the four students. Ron broke it. "What were you working on?" he motioned towards the journal.

Jack turned slowly in Ron's direction and gave the journal cover a single pat with his hand, "Just my journal. It was Albus' idea. He says they can be very helpful when going through strenuous times." he said, then paused. "I find myself writing in it a great deal lately..."

Hermione stared at, musing about it's contents. "Dear Diary: Today I made fun of some Gryffindors, tortured a few small animals, and was as good a Slytherin as I could possibly be. Mum would be so proud!" Hermione amused herself. She looked up to find three faces turned her way. She realized that she had laughed out loud, and how that might look, given the circumstances, and so she gave them an innocent grin. "Sorry, I was just thinking of something, and it was funny..." she trailed off. Jack didn't look offended at all, but Harry looked embarrassed that his friend hadn't been paying attention. He cleared his throat and turned to Jack. "Did you finish the potions assignment yet?" He asked to stir up conversation.

Jack looked away from the trio only when Madame Rosmerta passed by, and he shoved the empty mug in her direction and gave the hand signal for a refill. He then looked at the others, "Can I get you a round? My treat if you don't mind accepting drink from a Slytherin." he said, then turned to Hermione. "I am about half way done with it. I uh.. avoid Study Hall now, work on it in my room."

Ron grinned and gave Madam Rosmerta a nod. She trundled off to fill the order. Hermione groaned. Great. He's buttering us up. Like toast. And then he'll eat us. she complained inwardly. Ron had already struck up a conversation with Jack about the evilness that was Snape, and they were talking animatedly with Harry. Hermione was lost in her own thoughts until Madam Rosmerta appeared with their drinks.

Jack pulled his mug close, but didn't start drinking from it right off. He just listened to Ron prattle on about Snape, and added a few harmless observations of his own. None of the dark stuff he had been sensing as of late. He then turned to the golem silent Hermione, and rattled her tree, "Rumor has it you will be made Prefect of Gryffindor House come the fall term..."

She looked up from her mug with a smile, then chastised herself for it. He wasn't going to win her over with veiled compliments! "Well, it's a possibility," she said curtly, "but there are a good number of candidates-" "Oh, knock off it, 'Mione!," Ron interrupted, "You know you're the best choice they have. Stop being ridiculous!" She blushed a bit, and pulled her mug closer. "Do you know who might get the position in Slytherin?" She asked Jack.

Jack gave her a deadpan look, "Why, me of COURSE." he said, then burst out laughing. The laugh has the oddest ring around the edges. Sounding slightly mad if you listened close enough. When he saw the unamused faces on the trio, he focused his attention on the far side of the room, squinted, and said, "It's that Draco over there?" As soon as all three turned to look, he whipped out his wand, and muttered "Guinness" over his mug, then quickly put the wand away again. He made sure to be looking earnestly in the direction given when the looked back.

Hermione looked, but she didn't see the pretentious git anywhere. She turned back to Grim, who was still looking in that direction. "I don't see him," she said, and took a sip of her butterbeer.

Jack shook his head, looking confused and then took a sip of his own drink. "My mistake, I saw a blonde patch and thought it was that little git Malfoy. He gives me the royal creeps he does, " he said then drank long again.

Ron looked as though he had just finished a giant bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate. It wasn't often you met a Slytherin who didn't worship the ground that Malfoy walked on. "He's Malfoy. You can't expect him to be good." He tossed out with a grin.

Jack looked over at Ron, a serious look on his face. "Not just bad... but.... wrong... if you catch my drift. I am convinced he and his whole frat of gits are nothing more that a bunch of buggery boys carrying on what their fathers did to them." he said in a low tone, then glanced at the resulting expressions.

Both Harry and Ron had decided that this was a new friend, but Hermione was still suspicious. She decided to shrug it off for the moment, as both of her best friends were grinning at the new student, and she was too often the odd woman out. She nodded, then glanced at her watch. It was approaching dinnertime.

She smiled to herself, armed with a good excuse to make her exit. "Oh no," she said, motioning to her watch and putting on her best 'drat' expression. "It's only an hour until dinner back at the school, and I really need to stop by the library for a few things."

Ginny was tired from window shopping in Hogsmeade all day, and decided to stop in to the Leaky Cauldron hoping that she might find someone to chat with. But first she wanted to make one last stop in Honeydukes.

Jack gave Hermione a grin and a wink that let her know he wasn't buying it a bit, but then reached a hand out to her, "Thanks for chatting Hermione. Good luck on the Prefect-ship..." he said softly.

Ron buried his face in his glass of pumpkin juice for a moment. Harry smiled at Hermione, shaking his head gently. "See you at dinner then, Hermione," he called. "Oh, yeah, see you," Ron followed, a little hurriedly.

Ginny looked up. "Oh hey Hermy, I didn't see you coming out." Ginny looked at her face, "You going back already?"

Hermione shrugged, thinking hurriedly of the group in the corner. "Ginny, hey," she greeted the redhead. "I need to head back to the library any ways... would you like to come?" She hoped the girl agreed before she was spotted by one of the boys.

"Hey! Ginny!" Ron called, spotting his sister behind Hermione, who seemed to be standing in her way. "Come and sit with us!" he said, trying not to let his cheeks flush.

Jack winced when he heard Ron call Ginny over. He was sure she hadn't shared the whole Fellatia affair with him. With a low groan, he slouched down in his chair, and reaching over, grabbed a copy of the Daily Prophet from a dozing witch to hide behind.

Hermione bit her lip and tried to think of an excuse to stay, but she came up empty-handed. She gave Ginny a forced smile and said, "Alright, then... I'll see you at the castle, I guess." She left Ginny reluctantly, thinking of all the terrible things she would do to Grim if he hurt her.

Ginny watched Hermione leave and sighed, walking over to the table. Even it was just Ron and Harry, at l east it would be some company. She wasn't paying close attention, just kind of wandering over to the booth, when she looked up right before she was about to sit opposite Ron and Harry and gasped. "Oh...." She quickly tried to hide the fact she was so surprised. "I... didn't know anyone else was sitting here."

Harry smiled at Ginny fondly and said, "What you having?" before turning to order, not seeing the look on her face. Ron was still squirming a little, not really looking at her. Harry turned back and grinned. "How are you today, Ginny?"

Jack remained behind the paper, only his shoulders and hands showing. "'lo Ginny..." he said in a soft tone. Not offering anything further, except to reach for his "butterbeer" which was quite dark now, and drank long from it.

Ginny looked down and sat next to Jack, being the only available seat, but sat very close to the edge. "Hello...I er think that I'll have a butterbeer." She tried to stop her urge, but she shot a sideways glance at Jack any ways.

Harry ordered as Rosmerta left the table she had been serving and then he ducked down to try and read the Quidditch scores on the back of Jack's paper.

Jack was looking at the paper but not really reading it. Damn! Why did this girl make him so uncomfortable. He knew she was head over knickers in love with him, or what she THOUGHT was love. Something he was in NO position to return whether he was Jack or Sirius. Nor could he tell her this outright. It was simply another cross to bear, and he sighed without realizing it.

Ginny heard Jack sigh, and bit her tongue to stop herself from saying something, instead she turned to Ron and Harry. "So what did you two...er three, do today?"

"Oh, this that and the other," Ron smiled at his sister. Harry leaned over and whispered melodramatically in her ear; "He's been practicing on the Quidditch pitch for the Keeper's position." He winked and grinned at his friend's flushed face.

Jack didn't answer, he knew she didn't really care what he did, and most likely would not believe him if he told her. She would be certain he had just come from a rut with Fellatia even if he had a Communion wafer still on his tongue. "Keeper eh? Tough position that, " he commented. "I may play for Slytherin House next year..." he added in a bored tone.

Ginny nodded. She was at a loss of things to say. She knew anything she would say just wouldn't come out right. A part of her really wanted to make up with Jack, but a very small part. Most of her just wanted to scream at Harry and Ron for hanging out with a git like this. Yet she knew that if she said anything, people would just think stupid of her. So she tried to subtly find a way to leave.

Ron punched Harry playfully on the arm. "Gerrof," he rumbled, but turned to Jack. "Yeah, it is rather tough. But not as hard if you aren't built like a Seeker." Harry threw up his hands, laughing. "All right all right!"

Suddenly Jack set the paper down on the table with a slap, and slid back in his chair. He looked tired, weary and reached into his pocket as he made to leave. "Well, I guess Hermione has had enough of a head start so she won't think I am stalking her. I am going to wander about in the dark..." he said pulling a galleon out of his pocket and dropping it on the table with a 'clink'. "Thanks for the company all..." he said with a smile to each of them, then shouldering his hidden bag more securely, he headed for the door of the tavern.

Ginny watched Jack leave, a part of her was screaming to run after him and say SOMETHING, be it horrid or nice. She just wanted some closure. She was not one known to hold grudges against someone because she was genuinely friendly to everyone. She sighed as she saw the door close behind him.

Ron's stomach grumbled loudly. "God I'm starved," he complained. "Don't see why, you bought enough sweets..." Harry replied, pretending to fight being dragged from his seat. "Come on, Ginny, let's go grab some lunch eh?"

Jack squinted in the brightness of the midday sun, cursing it's existence even though for years he sorely missed it's presence in his life. He set off down the street, hands in pockets, not paying much attention to where he was headed at the moment. He really didn't care. He just wanted... Solitude.

Ginny looked up at Ron and Harry. "Er, well actually I already ate, so I think I'll just head back to the castle and see you two at dinner or something." She said kind of quickly, looking pleadingly at the door. Ginny had a desire to talk to Hermione right now, she seemed to be the only one who understood her. She also wanted to take the long way back to the castle, along the shores of the lake so she had some time to think things over.

Ron shrugged. "See ya later," he called, and Harry waved, still mock-protesting his rough treatment.

2002-07-27 20:20:00,
That was..... odd.

Well, I am back. Sorry for the smeary exit before, but as I was writing, I was set upon by Harry and his crew. Couldn't let them see me ruminating about Snape of all things.

Anyway... after we parted ways following a strained conversation, I spent the afternoon walking around Hogsmeade, and found myself visiting places from my past, my youth. Places I had hung out with when I was running with James and Remus. I didn't PLAN on doing this morbid tour, it just, happened. Prolly the amount of alcohol I had this morning. Anyway, once I realized what I was doing, walking on the dead side, I headed back towards Hogwarts, and dinner with the Slytherins.

That was a couple of hours ago, and things got weirder yet... After dinner, I snuck out for a smoke, then went wandering around the halls I know are little used at night. It's funny, even after Azkaban, I still crave solitude. Maybe it is worn into me now, I don't know. Anyway, I was walking around, and found myself outside of Snape's office.

Not odd, I LIVE near him now. Albus was standing outside of the door, saw me, and put his finger to his lips. THAT was odd. He seemed to be... listening to something going on inside... I wanted to ask, but then at the same time, didn't want to know. You know what I mean? Anyway. I am hungry again. Damn munchies. I may sneak down to the kitchens later and get the elves to whip up something sweet to eat.

More later, I suppose.

Over and out.

2002-07-28 08:30:00,
Off to town....

Well, another early start for me today. I need to get out. Call it an itch, call it an animal need, call it the fact I need to get hammered again.

I am going to go into Hogsmeade, Gallows Lane to be specific. I should be left alone there. More later.

Over and out.

2002-07-28 14:05:00,
Sunday morning coming down...

IC RP by Snape, Padfoot, and PrefectGranger: Rated R for violence, language.

Jack Grim again left Hogwarts early Sunday morning, not as early as he had on Saturday, but early enough that most of the castle was still snoozing, or getting breakfast. He was not dressed as a student today. Instead he was dressed in black clothes of a more Muggle look. Black jeans, an ancient black Muggle rock band tee shirt, and work boots. His wand was hidden on him of course as he walked down the streets, hands jammed in pockets.

He reached Hogsmeade around nine in the morning. Most of the shops where still closed, but not the pubs... However, this day he wanted to make sure his weekend indulgence wouldn't be disturbed again, and so, he made his way to a Knockturn Alley-like section called Gallows Lane, and to the pub of choice, The Laughing Skull.

Hermione dodged a small boy whose arms were full of various candies, careful not to bump into an elderly wizard in crimson robes. She paused to catch her breath outside Florean Fortescue's ice cream shoppe and pulled out her list of needed materials.

She had been running low on ink for a while now, but recent events at the school had prevented her from making a quick stop in Diagon Alley for a refill. She didn't like the inks on sale in Hogsmeade, too often they were rejects from the joke shop, disappearing or changing colors mid-essay. She bit her lip and ran a finger down the list of other materials; new quills, some potions ingredients, a book she had wanted, and (of course) a present for Harry's upcoming birthday. She pocketed her list and headed back into the crowd.

Severus Snape stiffly walked through Hogsmeade, not really wanting to face the crowds, but with no alternative. He made short but sweet visits to the places he needed to go, heading directly for the items he wanted in the shops that sold them before exiting equally swiftly. He was grateful for the way the crowds gave him rather more personal space than normal and he slunk through, trying to look as proud and in control as he could and ignore their stares. Eventually he had finished with the shops in the main part of the village and there was only a few of his more esoteric things which he needed.

Jack went into the small pub near the center of the dark and foreboding street he until recently called home, and took a stool near the end of the bar. The ghoul on duty gave him a narrowed, glowing gaze as he wiped dirty glasses, making them LESS dirty. Before he could argue with Jack over the minimum drinking age, Jack slapped two gold galleons down on the bar, and growled, "Flagon of Mead".

The ghoul slipped the money into the till then went to fill the order. He returned with a full bottle of Blood Mead, and a battered pewter goblet. Jack served himself, and drank long from the first goblet full.

Hermione shrunk her new purchases with a wave of her wand, and stuffed them in her knapsack. She had bought everything on her list, save a few potions ingredients she hadn't been able to locate in the village proper. None of the shops around the main square had had powdered manticore hoof or shredded kniffler skin. Madam Rosmerta had clucked disapprovingly as she pointed Hermione in the direction of the less than decent shopping area. She looked down the dark alley with distaste, noting the numerous cobwebs on the shop signs, and the nefarious characters populating the lane.

Severus Snape headed into one shop with familiar ease, merely an old and battered looking door with no sign near it or windows visible. The majority of people walking past didn't look at it; their eyes seemed to slide off of it, and they paid no attention when the black-clad figure ducked under the low door and went inside.

It took almost no time at all for Jack to finish the first Goblet of mead. He poured the second, then looked at the bowl of peppered nuts that had been set before him. Hell, who NOT make it a balanced breakfast? He dug into the bowl, and tossed a handful into his mouth to chomp down and swallow. He let his mind wander. No journal with him this time. Just him, the mead, and idle thought. He took another long sip of the mead, and smiled.

Hermione swallowed nervously, trying to look down at her feet as she traversed Gallows Lane. She had accidentally made eye contact with a wizard earlier; he had flashed yellow teeth and offered her something she would probably be blushing for hours just at the thought of. She thought better of this tactic when she almost walked into a cart, and decided she would just avoid eye contact. She looked up, just in time to see Professor Snape disappear into an unmarked shop.

The shopkeep looked up at Snape, fixing him with a crooked stare. He snarled a greeting, his battered face twisting in recognition. "Ach, you again. Wharrisit this time?" he asked. Snape struggled not to look disgusted as he replied, "Just a touch of hemlock and some of your Inigo-extract." The fastidious professor tried not to touch anything in the grimy shop, keeping in the center of the room despite his better judgment.

Hermione decided to wonder about Professor Snape's reasons later, she wanted desperately to get off of the Lane. She ducked a hand reaching towards her, spun, and pushed open the first door she saw. It was musty and dark inside, and surprisingly quiet, considering what it was. Hermione strained her eyes to see into the interior of the pub.

She could make out a few shapes, but nothing more. A pair of goblins opened the door behind her, and she moved out of their way quickly, taking a seat next to someone at the bar. The ghoul behind the counter raised the equivalent of an eyebrow, and continued polishing glasses. Hermione rummaged through her bag in an attempt to resist any form of eye contact.

The small man shuffled about his shop into the back and came back with a few things in a dark paper bag. He handed these over to Snape, who tried to take it without touching the man's fingers, using his left arm rather stiffly. He made it disappear swiftly into the folds of his robes and pressed the coins down onto the countertop, the correct money, with a clang. He turned. "'Old up, we got some things you might be int'rested in..." the keep called, but Snape merely curled a lip in disgust and left.

Jack looked at the door of course when it opened, and his gut tightened at the sight of, Hermione?? Christ! What was she doing here? Did a man have to go to Azkaban to drink in peace? He keep his eyes from her as he felt her sit down next to him at the bar. He was pissed. Harry's friends be damned this was HIS territory. "You don't belong in here you mudblood whelp. I have a potion I can make from your skull if you would like to stay..." he muttered in his most deep and foreboding tone without moving a muscle.

Hermione jerked away from the sound of this voice. This was simply too much; she had been propositioned, almost groped, and now insulted. Without a word, she closed her bag and stomped off towards the door, and towards Hogwarts.

Jack let a grin cross his face. The mead fully in his system by now, and more of "himself" was at the fore front of his split psyche. He hated to do that. OK, he rather enjoyed it truth be told, and to celebrate, he poured himself more mead, and chewed more of the nuts.

Snape stepped out of the shop suppressing a shudder just in time to see a familiar blur fair running back to the main part of the village. He frowned; his eyes must be deceiving him. He mentally ran through his shopping list and figured the last ingredients could all be procured in one place. And a good thing too, he was beginning to really feel the strain of keeping up appearances- something just as necessary here as in Hogwarts- but perhaps more deadly so.

It didn't take long to finish his errands, anyway the majority of the things he needed to replace could only be bought in Knockturn Alley and that would take up all of next weekend when he had no duties. He had none today, either, thanks to Albus, but he had to admit he was not up to it. With everything he needed, he started heading back to the castle, passing the pub as he set off back.

With the flagon of mead empty, and the best of numbing buzzes rattling around in his tormented mind. Jack Grim slid down from his stool, and moved toward the door. He summoned a pair of sunglasses with a word, and placed them on before stepping out into the brighter light. The glasses helped, but did not fully counter the change in lighting and he was temporarily blinded as he came out of the pub, and headed further down Gallows Lane. There was more debauchery he had in mind for the day, that was to be sure. So, distracted as he was, and partially sun blinded. he didn't see Snape approaching him at that very moment.

The Potions Master was in a great deal of pain; his arms had been exposed to a large amount of different potions and poisons during his-- lapse, but he had refused to see Madam Pomfrey and relied upon his own skills to deal with his injuries. His arms were bound but still throbbing, especially with all the effort he had been putting into appearing normal and unhampered in front of the potentially dangerous inhabitants of this part of the village. He walked stiffly, concentrating on his appearance as he let his senses guide him mostly through the sparse denizens. He saw but did not register the figure of Jack Grim, merely sidestepping to avoid him just like he had the rest.

Jack walked along, barely aware of what or whom passed by him on the cracked paving stones, and it was only when yards of black fabric brushed against him did he look up and make a comment. "Hog the whole bloody fucking walkway why don't you?" he muttered loud enough for the passing man to hear, but did not turn around to look directly at him. Hell, one anonymous threat had already worked well for him this morning, why not two?

The words hit Snape's sleepwalking mind before the voice did and he turned with great speed, right arm rushing out with adrenaline-fuelled power to grab the other about the throat and push him up against the wall, eyes blazing suddenly.

Jack let out a strangled curse as he was grabbed and lifted up and slammed against the rotting side of a building with a numbing "thud". Rotting or no, stone still hurt on the back on one's head and spine. "You're dead! You're bloody fucking dead!" he spat as he fumbled in his pants for his wand then as he opened his eyes and gazed ahead, he made a heart stuttering discovery, "SNAPE!" he hissed, freezing in mid motion of arming himself.

Snape's eyes were still burning, and his face looked distant, crazed for a moment before he blinked, and something fell before his eyes. His chest was still rising and falling fast and he didn't let go of his grip, merely slipping it from the boy's neck to hold him by the collar of his T-shirt, still pressing Jack up against the wall so his toes only just touched the ground. His arm was shaking slightly, "Grim," he hissed, his voice not his usual slick, cultured self. His fingers tightened their grip a moment before uncoiling with difficulty, but not standing back, still hemming the boy in.

Jack looked up at his most hated of enemies, and lifted a hand up to rub at his throat as he drew his wand slowly with the other. This was it. Mead or not. Snape or not, it was killing time. "That is the last time you will lay a hand on me you twisted old fuck...." he hissed with equal venom and turned slightly to the side, trying to give himself enough space to raise his wand and utter the curse.

Snape was still fueled on endorphins kicking in to counter the pain of his sudden abuse of his still-sore arms. His eyes dark with something, he curled his lips into an angry snarl, rational thought fleeing under the still-lingering g effects of the curse and his exertion. His right hand released Jack, arming himself in return with one smooth, well-practiced and instinctive flick of his wrist. The long, black wand was raised, the professor standing braced on the balls of his feet, catlike, in a blink.

Jack was armed simultaneously and with his wand aimed at Snape's heart, or where it should have been. He glared, focused all of his hate into one square inch on Snape's black shrouded chest, and spoke the words he had longed to issue for years, "Aveda....."

"CRUCIO!" Snape roared, the first spell that came into his pain-mad mind, the agony in his own tortured mind and body feeding the yelled roar as it sparked from his wand-tip to smack into Grim. The other witches and wizards still in the street- some of them watching from a distance- suddenly drew back, willing themselves invisible from these two duelists.

Jack was beaten to his deadly utterance by mere syllables, and when the spell hit him full force, he went stiff, then dropped to the dirty ground below, twitching in mind bending pain. His mind blanked, and images of other horrors filled his mind. Crucio was not only attacking his body and nerves but his mind and soul as well. James and Lily's dead, mangled bodies, the destroyed Godric Hollow home, Azkaban, the death of his family, all that was bad in his life bombarded him with as much pain as the curse was ripping through his young frame. His cries of pain were wordless, plaintive howls, more animal than human.

As the youth before him dropped to the ground, Snape was hit by a wave of answering pleasure, the agony he had inflicted hitting him like the Hogwarts Express, straight to the pit of his stomach and his head. Ecstasy and the knowledge of the pain inflicted hit him at the same time, the legacy of Voldemort's 'gift' to his Death Eaters still thrilling through his veins from the night before. He threw back his head and howled, bloodlust chasing his own pain away for the first time in years.

Jack was aware of so much pain, and anguish, the fact that his breathing, his heart was being affected by the curse. It was like being slowly smothered. A childhood phobia now coming to attack him. "No..... more...." he managed to scream, but was that vocalized in his mouth or mind? In reality, it came out as a gasp in the material plane, but as a begging scream in his mind.

Snape's black eyes were glazed as he stared down, warmth reaching his cheeks as he looked at the pleading, writhing figure. Oh, he was enjoying this, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly. He needed more. Memories of past victories flooded through his mind and he wondered what he wanted to do next, staring down at the stricken student and enjoying the replying buzz that hit him when Jack saw him advancing. Oh, this would be good.

Something deep inside Jack, again more animal than human kicked in. FLEE. RUN. The animal part of his brain was screaming, and as the first wave of the attack started to ebb, he planted his palms on the stones, and tried to lift himself up. He slowly lifted his head, looking with blurred vision around for his wand. He blinked, spotting it's slender form not two feet away. With a summoning of all his energy, he made a weak, flailing grab for it.

The old ways were sometimes the best and Snape decided some mental torture would do nicely right about now. He saw the boy moving-- good, he still had some fight, he could play for longer-- and let one foot rip out to kick Jack near the kidneys, knowing that not only would it cause a great deal of pain, but also it would send him sprawling on his face and humiliate him even further. His head spun with opportunities- plans- but he had to try and keep his attention so he could prolong this, make it the oh-so sweet delicacy for slow savoring that it should be, and not break him too soon. "That's right, face down," he hissed when words came back to him.

Jack let out a whelping cry of pain as toe of shoe met his lower back. This stopped him momentarily from reaching his prize, and he curled up into a fetal position, seeking to protect the softer more vulnerable parts of his body from more physical abuse anyway. "Please...." he heard himself say with a mouthful of unstoppable drool. Jack pleaded, Sirius was trying to move toward that damned wand.

Snape was incoherent, the pleas reaching his ears but registering as little more than noise, nice noise, but noise. He waved his wand in a lazy arc, easily weaving a delicate web of magical threads about him, designed to cause pain if the victim moved at all. And he intended to move his victim. Oh yes he did.

The invisible bounds tightened around Jack, he could feel them closing in, and then the Claustrophobia fear hit. Dammit where was THAT coming from? He screamed in his mind, then realized, it was one of Jack's most buried fears. Jack now struggled to move against the restraints, and then the scream followed as the binds burned invisibly into his skin and soul like vines of pure Hellfire.

Snape smiled, wickedly. He didn't care if he'd get sent to Azkaban, he didn't care what tortures he'd suffer for this: it was more than worth it. He stalked closer, willing himself just to watch as the boy writhed, even though it caused him more pain, and the pain made him struggle even more. Delicious irony; he could almost taste it. Snape was aware of the eyes on him, hidden but watching despite the revulsion he felt and despite the kicks it gave him, he decided he didn't want to continue this in public, dropping to his haunches by Jack's side, leaning in so he was close enough to whisper in the boy's ear.

Jack was only barely perceptive of the form moving closer to him, then a scent reached his nose. Sirius' nose. Hate, black hate and power, sex, death. It was all there. He snapped, pure animal fear took over and his body shuddered as he fought to roll away, to get away from Snape, and to do, what? Shift! Run! His mind screamed the instructions but the magic spell... was forgotten, erased from recollection by the mind splitting pain. He was trapped.

A full smile split Severus' lips for the first time in years, but it was malicious, a mockery of delight. Grotesque. "Stay still, Jack, stay very still indeed. I think it is time you and I had a little... talk... about what it is to be a Slytherin." He let the fingers of one hand trail down the boy's spine, passing through the invisible lines of power and strumming them like an over-strung guitar. "You're coming with me."

Jack heard the words, Sirius did as well, and at the demonic touch that stroked down his back, he lost control, utterly, and piss ran hot and fast down his leg. "N-No.... God no..." he managed to wail between choked gasps.

Something warm and wet puddled about Snape's booted feet, and he looked down to see the steaming yellow urine. The smell hit his large nose sweeter than roses and he laughed, deeply. "You'll do more than piss, you know, Jack," he murmured as he brought his mouth closer to the student's exposed and bared neck.

Suddenly a booming voice echoed down the grimness of the nearly empty alley way, "SEVERUS!" was the first word uttered aloud, then when Severus looked up at the unexpected interruption in his pleasure taking, the second word was spoken, "STUPDEFY!" came the command, striking the crazed Potions Master directly between the eyes like a laser sighted shot.

Snape was curled ferally over the prone body when Albus called his name, and even then there was no flash of recognition in his dead black eyes. He snarled at the interruption, before realizing he could make the night even more fun- and was hit by the Stupefy spell before he had a chance to blink. Sweet, dreamless sleep closed his eyes and caused his entire body to go limp, flopping over the squirming student bonelessly.

2002-07-29 14:26:00,
Sometime later...

It was days later, but Jack didn't know that, neither did any other part of his partitioned psyche. He lay there, calm now after the three days of nightmares and tremors his body endured after the attack on him by Snape. Albus sat nearby, always ready with a damp cloth, or a sip of water to administer. Getting the Mentismorphus potion down the sleeping boy's throat had been a chore, but necessary. He could not let him return to Sirius. Not yet.

Albus looked over at the calm form, sleeping now. Wondering what the man-boy would be like when he awoke. He had found him unconscious underneath the stunned body of Severus, and then had brought them both back to Hogwarts.

Severus had been disarmed and placed in an oubliette, safe from others on the outside, and himself. Jack was laying here hidden from the rest of the school in a side chamber of the Headmaster's quarters.

Albus wiped at the pale cheeks of the sleeping boy yet again, and then brushed his fingers through the now snow white bangs he wore. While Harry had his scar from his encounter with Voldemort. It now seemed that Snape had marked his victim in a like manner. The whiteness of the hair stood out against the pitch black of the boy's hair, and he could only wonder if he would have the mark in... other forms as well.

Suddenly, the silence of the antechamber was broken by the sudden intake of breath from Jack as he sat bolt upright in the small bed. Then came the scream. It was long, loud and full of the terror and volume he has not been able to summon before when in the throes of Snape's powerful curse.

His eyes were wide, pupils dilated and he looked frantically around the small room for... what? Security? Safety? Snape? he at last met the Headmasters calm eyes and the end of a wand. "Obliviate!" was the last thing he heard before falling into a quiet and restful sleep.

2002-07-29 16:40:00,"
Home again, safe and sound?

Jack awoke again, this time, it was different. He was laying on his bed, his belly felt full, and he was, calm. He quickly sat up, heart racing, but why? The bed curtains were torn aside with a resounding "Scritch!" and he looked around the room. The other four beds were made up neatly, and he was the only one there.

A look to the window told him it was nearly midday, and the clock on his night stand told him it was Tuesday. Tuesday? Hadn't he been in Hogsmeade on Saturday? Jack blinked and ran his hands through the long bangs of his hair, and slowly slid off of his bed. The floor was cold under his feet, but somehow, soothing.

He felt the need to really pee, so he walked sleepily into the bathroom, and leaned against the wall with one hand as he relieved himself. When he was done, he went to wash his hands, and the sight of himself in the looking glass gave him cause for minor alarm.

"What the bloody hell is THAT?" he swore aloud as he flicked at the white hair now garnishing his head just above his eyes. Jack frowned, and turned is head from side to side, and the more he looked at it, the more confused he became then, there was a flash in his mind's eye. Red light. Pain, then blackness.

Jack shuddered and with a last look, turned away from the reflection in the mirror. "Great.. bloody well great..." he muttered as he tromped down the stairs from the dorms into the Slytherin Common room and what ever hazards lay in wait for him there.

2002-07-29 22:38:00,
Meet Draco Malfoy,

A Dual IC Post with Draco and Padfoot

The Slytherin Common room was nearly dry of life except for a couple overly studious first years, himself..and the newly arrived Jack, tromping down the stairs with what seemed a rather large chip on his shoulder. He looked devastated, Draco guessed from perhaps a restless night, though he guessed it had a lot to do with the events that took place the previous Sunday morning. The white shock of hair making up his bangs were the proof of such. He had currently been working on some homework, but this pull his attention. A soft grin sneaking over lips as he closed the book, standing and watching Jack with interest. "I rather like the new look, Grim. High contrast looks rather good on you, don't you think?"

Jack was in the process of giving Malfoy a neutral wave as he entered. Respect for the Alpha Sinister in the place, then he made the crack about his hair. Jack added a sneer to his expression and then collapsed down in one of the overstuffed stairs, and give him the 'backwards victory' hand sign before reaching into his robes, and pulling out a pack of fags. "Right... I suppose this will make me a right wonderful bird magnet now..." he said as he put one between his lips, then offered one to Malfoy.

Jack lit his cigarette, inhaled and blew the smoke up at his now snow colored fringe, and sighed. "Beats the hell out of me. I woke up this way..." he said, voice trailing off a bit as that nasty memory flash came to mind again. He quickly pushed it aside, and with a wave of his wand summoned an ashtray that would suck up all the smoke.

A languid brow was raised. "Woke up that way? Quite a story. Are you going to keep it, or try and turn it back to your original color?" Of course, knowing the origin of that white shock of hair. But of course, he wouldn't tell Jack that. It would simply spoil the fun of everything developing! He finally slid into the chair was he watched Jack with intense misted eyes, slightly speckled with blue.

Jack shrugged, and inhaled again. "I will leave it for now... It's not THAT big of a deal to me." he paused, then gave Draco a whiplash grin, "Why, do you find me fetching now that I am bicolored?" he asked, then laughed heartily and picked up a book laying on the table and read over the title without comment.

Eyes closed in that matter-of-factly way, giving him more elegance and arrogance then he possessed two seconds before. "Perhaps, but I keep wondering if your bangs is the only hair now bicolored." Grinning deviously as eyes sneaked open to glance to the boy opposite of him. "Care to fill me in on my curiosity?"

Jack smirked at Draco, a dangerous flare showing in his pale eyes, and he set the cigarette down in the ashtray. He then leaned back in the chair, and unbuttoned the top of his jeans. He cast a glance at Draco, measuring his reaction before continuing any further. With a lift of his eyebrow, he then looked back down and unzipped his fly just enough to lift up the fly of the jeans and peer down into them, showing Draco nothing. "Hmm.... interesting....." he grins, but does not elaborate any further unless prompted.

He mocked that curiosity as he leaned forward, threatening to get a peek, before coyly being caught and resting back against that chair. Smirking softly to himself and towards his little reply. "Interesting? Please, inform me on what is so interesting. I'm truly dying to know..and you know, secrets are just impossibly kept within this house." Giving a slight pretend pout as he was refused a direct answer.

Jack rezipped up his pants, snapped the top closed then flipped his robes back down as he resumed sucking on his cigarette and then did an elaborate French Inhale. "Sorry. The mighty monster only comes out where there are nice warm, and wet places for it to go." he said, then crushed out the cigarette, and stood up. "Besides... you could just ask Fellatia. She's been... how should I say this?" he said, then paused, chin in hand as he thought for a clever colloquism to say. "She's been for a ride on Space Mountain..." he said with a grin, then leaned against the wall near the fireplace. Watching Draco for his reaction.

The reaction he wished to express would be that of dead laughter, but he had long since learned how to keep such reactions under wraps. A grin coursed over his face however. Slightly rolling his eyes under that 'clever colloquism' previously uttered. "I have come to believe that Fellatia has the record for most times riding on Space Mountain." Musing silently as he watched the other student like he did many when stumbling upon a catch. "Perhaps, but if I'm not mistaken..you were caught with Fellatia before waking up to discover such a new hairstyle. Either on your head, or elsewhere."

Jack's expression became one of surprise now, and he watched Draco closely. "Caught? With Fellatia? Where did you hear that?" he asked with a bit of laughter in his voice. "I know I don't talk about my... encounters. It shows bad breeding and manners..." he said idly picking at the moss in a crevice of the fireplace stone.

"Like I said before, secrets can never be kept within the halls of Hogwarts. You should know that better then I!" Slightly turning within his seat as Jack shifted his position within the room. "It's just like, I don't talk about my encounters, but almost everybody is versed in them. Hell, even to the point that I wonder why I even try and keep such a secret. So come now, I'd rather like to be clued in upon a secret that I'll love to be the first to know."

Jack grimaced and waved his hand at Draco in a dismissive fashion. "Nothing to tell man. My patch is as black as they ever were, Fellatia I am sure didn't give me this," he said pointing to his new white spot, "And right now, I am too hungry to care about any of this garbage..." he groused.

He let his head rest against the knuckles of his fingers. Watching the other becoming obviously irritated with his prodding into something secret. But that was Draco for you, even when trying to be befriend another. "No, I'm sure Fellatia did not give you that. I don't think she could be that good." Snickering softly, perhaps more to himself instead of towards Jack. Upon that last comment, Draco glanced up towards the clock, it was rather close to breakfast and he was becoming just as hungry. "Hmm..breakfast sounds like a wonderful idea. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Jack looked at Draco for a moment, his eyes appraising the younger Malfoy closely for the first time since he landed himself in this house, this situation. Something in the back of his mind clicked on, and he recalled that this WAS one of the players he was supposed to get close to, for Harry. He worked up a smile, then said, "What about Gruesome and Ghastly, your breathing bookends? Won't they get jealous if you come to the table with a new mate?" he grinned.

Draco rolled his eyes as Jack mentioned dumb and dumber. He shook his head as he rose from his current seat before speaking up. "I wouldn't be surprised to learn if they didn't know the meaning of the word jealous, let alone hold such an emotion within those brains that can barely hold the ability to speak." Grinning softly as he stepped closer towards the door. "So, I wouldn't worry about it. Now then, on to breakfast hmm?" Expressing the etiquette that he had been forced to learn.

Jack laughed softly, and nodded, "Sure. Whatever you say Malfoy. I figure I have lots to learn from you, being the new snake in the pit..." he said and moved toward the door of the common room that led to the exit behind the mirror.

"Yes, yes. I have been around the block numerous times. I can let you in on the tricks of the trade, along with some juicy gossip if you so wish. I may ignore Pansy Parkinson like the plague, but once and awhile, she squeezes in useful information, even if I have to sometimes question her ability to get such..news." Laughing, pushing the door open..allowing Jack to pass through before he followed.

Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets as he fell into step beside Draco. He was a bit taller than the pale haired boy. In fact he was almost taller than most of the boys in the school save for some of the 7th years. "So... do you play Quidditch?" he asked idly as he walked along. "Fellatia thinks she can get her brother, Marcus to get me on the team as a Chaser or Beater...."

"How long have you been here now?" It was a rhetorical question of course, but he had to be a smart ass most of the time. "But to answer your question, yes, I do play Quidditch. In fact, I'm the seeker." Grinning with pride at proclaiming such an honorable position. Eye brows raised as he heard that Jack might be joining soon. Looking pleasantly surprised. "That would be wonderful! I'll put in a good word for you."

Jack gave Draco a sidelong glance as he walked along with him, "I've only been here a week or so..." he said, then immediately felt like an ass. He shook his head in disbelief of what he had just said, and kept walking. "Thanks. I can use any plugs around here I can get..." he added, and then looked around the halls as they walked along, almost as if reminicing.

A smirk sneaked their way upon his lips as he heard Jack answering his rhetorical question. But he didn't comment on it, as much as he possibly wanted to. It wouldn't be smart to put down the one person you were trying to impress as a decent friend. "Anytime, I have a lot of contacts within this school." And to think, he was only a 5th year. Imagine such contacts within his last year. "If you need anything else, within reason of course, just ask. I'll be more than willing to give you a hand."

Jack looked over at Draco, and held his hand in an offering of friendship. "Thanks, I appreciate it. It's nice to finally get a welcome here. I get the distinct impression that Snape hates my guts, and I am not sure why..." he said, then his voice trailed off a bit, as if he was thinking something over, then once again, pushed it away from his mind. "I just don't get it." he added quietly.

That hand, being offered in friendship, reminded him of the time when he offered the same hand in friendship to Harry Potter..and had been rejected..and quite harshly at that. But he wouldn't do the same, no matter how much a bitch he might be. Taking the hand with a firm shake. "Hm...Snape doesn't like many students. I'm supposedly his favorite, but even then..I don't feel like the favorite." Slightly feeling sorry for what Snape had performed on Jack, that wasn't acceptable for anybody to go through.

Jack returned the handshake with equal grip and strength, then nodded slowly, "He's mental that one. Scary so. He's like a volcano, ready to blow and any time, and man, I don't want to be there when he does..." Jack says as only one who has had his memory altered, and cleansed of just such an occurrence.

He nodded softly as they continued their way towards the Great Hall, it didn't take much to know that his memory had been altered to forget such a memory.. and sometimes, he wished for that pleasure when his father was still waist deep in the exact dealings that Jack had been exposed to. "The good thing is, he is rarely seen within the public eye..I wouldn't worry about him blowing up too much with a crowd around."

Jack shuddered, and he wasn't sure why. He remained silent on the remainder of their walk into the Great Hall, then followed Draco to the Slytherin Table on the far side of the room. It was funny, he didn't have the habitual drive to go over to the Gryffindor one like he had the first few days he had been here.

He allowed Jack to be quiet and followed as well in that silence. Heading over towards the Slytherin table to settle himself within his usual seat. Giving the usual morning greetings and evil glares to the Gryffindor table. It seemed to be built into the daily morning routine. Then on to the mindless chatter that he answered with the occasional "yea..uhuh..sure..yea..I understand.." About as neutral as you got. Then again, it was needed with Pansy..who could talk anybody's ear off. Giving a miffed glance to Jack, a sigh to ensue.

Jack looked across the table at Draco, sitting directly across from him rather than unseat the human bookends from their places. He thought the would absorb most of any wild shots taken at Draco if it ever came to that, and he would be out of the main line of fire. He gave Draco an amused smile, and his own neutral replies to Pansy while Fellatia watched her new trophy from nearby, seated with her clutch of friends.

Draco caught the eye of Fellatia trained most indefinitely on Jack. Grinning from her, towards Jack. Leaning forward just a bit. "Even if you did keep such encounters secret, I think she would have spilled it sooner or later. I think she must be right behind Pansy in the gossip department." Taking a sip of Orange Juice before taking another glance at the girl. "Congrats Jack, you're Fellatia's new boy toy." He wanted to add, "Along with the rest of the Slytherin House", but he halted.

2002-07-30 08:47:00,
Breakfast at Hogwarts,

An IC Group post with Padfoot, Draco, and Hermione.

Hermione used her shoulder to push through the doors to the Great Hall, careful not to drop any of the books she was carrying. She used her chin to hold down the top of the stack, and made her way carefully to the Gryffindor table. She dropped her stack of books with a heavy 'whump', in front of a very startled Harry. She gave him a quick smile, then sat, grabbing a slice of toast as she did so. Harry scooted the books a few feet to the left in order to actually see Hermione. She took a bite of her toast and glanced around the hall.

Draco was where he always was, sitting within his usual seat at the usual table occupied by the Slytherin House. Talking over a plate of eggs, toast, bacon and other such breakfast items. Grinning that grin towards the other across the table. The new and improved Jack, new hairstyle and all. Befriending him was turning out to be a big success..and he was definitely a better conversationalist then Crabbe and Goyle who were situated at the end of the Slytherin Table. That was a big bonus for such a friendship.

Jack was listening to the conversations floating around him with a mild amount of interest. Pansy would lean over, and whisper something in his ear, and he would shrug a reply. Only Draco's direct questions got any semblance of an answer from Jack. Fellatia was of course watching him with eagle owl eyes, ready to scratch out those of any female that dared to look his way. Jack seemed oblivious to that however, and then laughed at an obscene remark made by Malfoy before casting an idle glance in Harry's direction.

Hermione's eyes paused on the Slytherin table, which she usually ignored. Draco sat at his usual spot, laughing and conversing with the rest of his house like some king of old. She shook her head and spooned a bit a porridge. It stopped half way to her mouth as Draco leaned over and revealed the person sitting directly opposite him: Jack. The boy shrugged off Pansy and looked in their direction; Hermione quickly looked away and towards Harry. "Look who's back," she said, motioning towards the Slytherins. Harry looked over his shoulder then turned back to her. "Oh, right. He and Malfoy came in a little while ago." He went back to his breakfast, and Hermione looked thoughtful.

Draco looked up as a sharp voice called from the entrance. "Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Hooch called. He stood up, flashing a lazy grin to his classmates, and walked over to the Flying teacher. "Mr. Malfoy, I really must insist that you schedule practices with me in the future, rather than simply marching your team out onto the pitch. That was irresponsible, and not becoming of..." her voice trailed off as they left the Great Hall. A few students laughed, but were silenced by Crabbe and Goyle's menacing looks.

Jack received the grin and wink Draco aimed at him, and remained where he was. There was food still in front of him, and some deeply buried instinct kept him there eating until it was magically removed. He gave Draco a salute as a good-bye, then went back to eating. Pansy continued her prattling, and Jack was then given the job Malfoy had previously had of acknowledging her diatribe with noncommittal answers.

"I wonder what was wrong with him," Hermione mused out loud. Harry looked up from his porridge and swallowed. "Why don't you ask him then?" Hermione gave him a look, he just grinned and set down his spoon. "I'll ask him, then." Harry said.

Hermione reached across the table and grabbed his arm as he tried to stand. "Don't," she hissed. he gave her an odd look, and calmly pulled her hand off of his arm. "Really, Hermione, I'm starting to think you don't like him," he said, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. Hermione groaned and stood. "It's not that I don't like him," she answered, gathering her books, "I just don't trust him."

Jack finally finished his third helping of, everything, and with a polite farewell to his house mates at the table, he rose to leave. He needed to ... be alone. Fellatia was at his side claiming an arm and gripping it like a hawk at roost, and whispered into his ear. Jack smiled, and whispered back, and whatever answer he gave her was sufficient enough to get her to relinquish hold on him until later. Jack waved to the rest of the Slytherins, then left the Great Hall, hands in his pockets, and headed for the front door of the Castle.

Jack was blind sided by Hermione, the walking library, and did issue a sharp retinue of curses before he saw the culprit. "Hermione!" he said in a surprised tone, then shaking his head, crouched down, and started to gather the fallen tomes into a stack again. "You should bewitch some poor sod into carrying all of these for you..." he mused, "Use that Servatus potion or whatnot..." he continued, not looking at her, just the stuff he was gathering.

Harry helped her up, and Hermione brushed dust off of her robes. "That's ridiculous," she said, horrified at the suggestion. "That's like using the Imperious curse. I would never do that!" She picked up a book by her foot, then crouched down to help Jack gather things.

Jack shrugged, then without another word, slid the pile of books over toward Hermione, and then glanced over at Harry. Harry received a smile from the Slytherin. "Well, perhaps you will be her beast of burden until her beaux Weasley returns from his Holiday..." he said from behind a grin, then continued on his trek out the door of the school and across the grounds.

Hermione just stared after him, speechless.

2002-07-30 12:50:00,
Who am I?

My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim. My name is...

Damn. I am out of ink.

2002-07-30 13:51:00,
We meet again....

A Dual IC Post with Snape and Padfoot.

Jack sat near the lake, partially shaded by the trees overhead as he wrote in his journal. It was a singular phrase. Was it affirmation, or damnation? It was hard to tell. Five words. Repeated over and over, filling page after page. "My name is Jack Grim. My name is Jack Grim." Lather, rinse, repeat.

Albus Dumbledore walked like he owned the place- which he did, more or less, and pride was visible in his every movement, every smile. It was an easy, friendly grace that burned from deep within, his face open and smiling at the sun. The man besides him-- no, not besides-- to the left and a pace behind- did not look half so happy. He struggled to walk erect, as if he wanted to do nothing other than shrink from the world that he had been away from so long. He didn't know how long, time had been lost to him in that thankless place. But now he followed, head down, eyes front, mind torn.

Jack paused in his writing, and looked out over the lake. The ripples were soothing to watch, highlighted by the summer sun. He set his journal aside, and closed his eyes as he leaned back, resting on his palms planted in the grass. He let his mind go blank, hoping that would unlock the nagging thing that was creeping around at the very edge of his mind. Like when you've forgotten to do something, but can't recall what. A moment, and numb arms later, he resumed his cross-legged sitting posture, and collected his journal, looking over the latest entry, and muttering to himself.

Albus stopped, suddenly, and Snape almost came crashing into him. He let off a reel of curses under his breath, but the Headmaster merely smiled at him and went off to looking into the middle-distance. Snape scowled bad-naturedly and then followed his gaze, forcing his eyes, weak from who knew how long disuse, to see what he did. He did. He didn't notice when the other wizard slowly slipped off.

It was warm, warmer still under the yards of black fabric Snape swathed himself in by habit and he never had liked the heat or the sun at the best of times. But now he saw, over behind a curve of the lake, the source it seemed of all his discomfit this year. Grim. He stared a moment, mesmerized by the gulf-- literal, it seemed- between them before he finally caught up with himself and turned to look for Albus, the plea for oblivion already parting his lips, straining to get out. But it met nobody and escaped as a half-strangled sigh. Alone. Again.

Jack sat there looking at the journal until his vision blurred, and with a frustrated motion, he snapped it shut. Gathering up his quill, ink and journal, he stuffed them into his book bag, and then got to his feet. He paused, leaning back languidly in a long stretch before turning, eyes cast downward and mind wandering as he headed back for the castle and his next class.

Snape was still transfixed, as though frozen, petrified. Part of him wanted to run away, an even bigger part wanted to run right after him, but in the end the quarreling halves held him in a stasis, suspended. Before him stood the vast building that was Hogwarts, where he was supposed to teach, but right now the buttresses and walls seemed higher and more forbidding than those of any prison. Any. He choked; to head back would be another boundary to cross. But it would not break anything inside, not this time. How did he know whether he went there as one man's slave or as another? He was just a pawn in this matter, waiting to be sacrificed. Waiting... Waiting.

He closed his eyes, and something was waiting there, but instead of the castle, or the faces of those who thought they had known him, or even the faces of those whose death he had tasted, it was something else that floated before his mind, driving everything out. And the feeling of youthful, too-black hair brushing across his face.

Jack was lots in his thoughts, so much so that he didn't notice his steps, or the path he took until he was in the hall leading to the dungeons. He paused, looking around the deserted stone arteries of the castle, and seemed to be listening, or waiting.

Snape entered the school suppressing a panic attack as he crossed the threshold, his skin burning where he felt the pupils, the staff, the ghosts, hell, even the pictures looking at him, their eyes boring into him until he felt there was nothing left to hide, nothing left anyone did not know except himself. He needed to get away, away from the crowds. He hurried rather too fast to keep much decorum on his way back to his office and chambers, moving as if led by some invisible force. His feet slipped down, down, further into the cold, into the dark, away from the crowds and he felt the exposure slowly ebb... He stopped, purposefully, half off one step and listened. Good, nothing but the sounds he made. No one... no one? A whisper, at the edges of his hearing, gone in an instant, and possibly never there at all. Well, he couldn't stay here all day; questions would get asked. He forced himself to take the rest of the steps at a more natural pace, but still rather too swiftly.

Jack was at the end of the hall, between the mirror that led to Slytherin House and the one leading to Snape's office and rooms. He was jarred out of his daydream by, footsteps? He blinked, turned, and then felt his heart begin to race as a dark flowing form filled the passageway from which he had just come. Jack felt faint as an overwhelming wave of panic came over him, and before he was seen by the approaching form, he turned to the mirror and gasped, "Belladonna, belladonna! BELLADONNA!" which had been the password the last time he had entered the House on his own feet, four days before. It was now, changed however.

Snape was now grinding his teeth together, willing the distance between himself and his room to disappear-- one of the few times Disapparating would *really* have been worth it. The stones beneath his feet jarred his spine painfully with each footfall, knees protesting his abuse as he landed, flat-footed but silent, causing as much pain as he could. Cold. The closer he got to his room, the colder it was, the heat from the sun before fading and leaving nothing but the headache pulling at his temples.

He stopped again as a thought struck him: what would he do when he got to his rooms? Sit in a chair, plan some lessons, read some books, like nothing had happened? Could he do that? How could he; something HAD happened... He was about to turn tail and run- he didn't know where- when a voice caught his attention not too far off. He didn't catch the words or the owner of the voice, he hadn't thought he'd hear anyone speak again and his mind was rusty. He slowly advanced, not knowing whether he wanted to or not.

Jack swore violently when the password didn't work, and a rage driven fist met stone. "Fuck it! Fuck it fuck it!" he repeated over and over as he pounded the wall again and again. Punctuating his profane sentences with pain. Snape's form was forgotten, all that mattered was he was locked out. He could not get inside where he wanted to be, where he belonged, the ringing in his ears reached a crescendo, then stopped as an image flashed before his mind.

Cold, wet, thunder and lightening. A boy, no him, pounding on a closed and locked door of a house. The rain had soaked him through to the skin, and the mocking light of the lightening lit up his futile attempt at entry while the following thunder drowned out his cries. Jack blinked, the memory was gone and for a second he stood there frozen, trying to identify the source of the memory. Was it him, or the other?

Cries first of rage then of anguish reached Severus' ears, so familiar, so real, so... tactile he could reach out and grab them, the first thing that touched his mind after an eternity of ghost-images and fleeting forms. He didn't know what to do, the blood thundered loudly in his ears as he felt himself walking forwards, striding with steps long and straight and no longer crouched low. He couldn't stop himself. Fire burnt inside his chest as he closed the distance with unerring speed, bearing down on the boy still with his back to him.

Jack fell against the mirror, and the rage now purged was left with confusion and utter despair. He wanted in. Where it was safe, from what, he didn't know, but he wanted to be inside. He leaned his head against the mirror then slowly slid down until he was resting on his knees, head still touching the mirror. As he fought to force down the staggered breaths and the sobs neither side of his personality would let come, his body shuddered under the emotional strain.

"I just want... in..." he said softly, and continued to lean against the unanswering piece of glass. "I don't know the right word...." he added as if that would do any good against the magickal wards. Then, he paused, head lifted up from the resting place on the glass, now steamed and moist from the contact, and he listened. Footsteps, again. Quick and drawing nearer, now. Nothing.

Snape halted, his toes mere inches from the form crouched in front of him, so hot he could almost feel it radiating off of him and crossing the distance between them, so hurt, so afraid, so... pained. His robes fell forwards, brushing against the form below. He thrummed, feeling more alive than he had in years, not the world-weary heavy sensations or the half-felt things from days so monochrome as to fade into one... Alive... He stopped, in a whirry, and realized he needed to know what he was going to do next. Dark eyes closed slowly, stayed closed, and he breathed, deep and long and full. "Zephyr," he rumbled, releasing the word which would open the mirror before him. His eyes opened and he saw himself- saw Grim.

Jack was looking into the mirror now, seeing the reflection of Snape towering behind him, and his own form smaller and unsure before him. He winced, just slightly when he saw those thing lips part to issue... what? Nothing more than the password of course. What else would he say? As the word was uttered, the mirror began to slowly move outward, and Jack had to backpedal to avoid catching the frame of the mirror in the center of his face. He forgot things were reversed, and that backing away from the Snape before him would take him right into the real one behind him, and tripped on a black toed shoe and landed against the startled Potion's Master in a flurry of black material.

Snape was standing steady, braced, in control. He met the eyes that stared at him with an inner calm, eyes only wandering slightly to take in the rest of the face and linger for the briefest of moments on his hair before returning sharply. Not the calm of stillness-- but one of realization. When the door opened he realized he hadn't planned for that; it had been so many years since he had been down here that the thought of going in wasn't really forefront in his mind. So when the small bundle of limbs shuffled backwards he didn't have time to react, merely stiffen, slightly, as Jack bumped up against one leg and lay back, leaning for a second. His breathing quickened- (damn the boy, he'd opened the door already!)- but he hoped that Jack hadn't noticed or would take it for umbrage.

Jack scrambled, again his youthful agility coming into play and he stepped to the side with surprising nimbleness, and scooped up his bag before looking up at Snape again. He had the oddest expression on his face. Not fear, not cheek, but neutrality. "Sorry, Sir. Professor Snape, sir." he said, sounding all at once like Longbottom, full of apologies and excuses as he looked up at the slightly taller man with his pale eyes opened wide. "I... didn't know the password... I was..." he stopped then, genuine confusion crossing his face. You could see it in his eyes and face as he tried to reason just WHY he didn't know the new password. "I guess I just... forgot it." he reasoned at last, then looked up at Snape again, and in a voice befitting Oliver Twist at his most piteous state, said, "Thank you sir..." and moved to step into the portal.

Snape ducked his head, slightly, and his hair cast about his face, curtaining it and hiding his face briefly from view. He stepped back, no, glided, and turned without saying a word to the over-talkative boy he slid into the shadows that were his home and headed straight for his chambers.

Jack watched the Professor turn without another word and whoosh off to his rooms nearby. Jack pondered on this for only a second longer before going inside of Slytherin House to a noisy common room, and prepared for the rest of the days' classes.

2002-07-31 14:02:00,
Welcome back Severus....

An IC Post by Snape, Draco, and Jack.

Jack watched the Professor turn without another word and whoosh off to his rooms nearby. Jack pondered on this for only a second longer before going inside of Slytherin House to a noisy common room, and prepared for the rest of the days' classes.

Draco was within a 'deep' conversation with a small group of first and second years. More then likely scaring them of the unknown, telling them little horror stories about their current home. It was a type of hazing, if you would call it that, though..maybe it was just out of a sadistic pleasure he enjoyed. However, his little pleasure in frightening the younger Slytherins was halted as he saw a rather shaken Jack stumble through the portal leading from the hallway to the common room. That was where his little rumors/stories ended..and he left the first years to their own doings. "My Jack, it looks like you've seen a ghost." A figure of speech, seeing as how the halls of Hogwarts were filled with harmless ghosts..and they couldn't scare a bug.

The door to the Potions Class shut behind Severus Snape, close on the heels of his robes. It sounded a little different, perhaps? He stood and looked around, trying to get his bearings in this room which was supposed to be-- well, home. Cauldrons, books, equipment, funnels, phials, jars, scales.... all here. Something was subtly wrong, however, and he couldn't put a finger on it. His 'good mood' shook a little as he headed for his office, wanting to see what else had changed.

Jack saw he was being looked at, and you could see the mask of assurance slide back into place. He pushed the Mirror incident from his mind, like so many things, and swaggered over to sit in a chair near Draco. He eyed Draco's group of listeners, and cracking a self-confident smile as he pulled out his trusty pack of smokes and lit one, remarked, "New recruits?" he asked, letting the little ones fill in the blanks themselves, and leaving Draco with a wide open field of possible answers.

A brow lifted in a questioning glance, but he didn't try and push out an explanation from Jack. Especially with so many other students within the room. Instead, he let it go, for now, as Jack sat down by him and the semi circle of first years. Grinning demonically from Jack towards the others, even seeing some of them flinch away as if Draco were truly a snake ready to strike. "Rather..tender fresh meat. I'm just telling them of the little 'perks' of Hogwarts."

Further inspection proved nothing visibly changed, but still an aura of something clung to the dungeons and Snape felt very much alienated. He quickly started brewing something--- he didn't know what, just let his hands move-- to reassure himself, set his marl back upon the room with the smell of something made by his own efforts. He glanced at a clock. Still some time before he had to faces the masses. Still time to...?

Jack got his cigarette lit, took a long hit from it, and you could almost see the relaxation wash over him, "We got Potions in ten minutes..." he commented as he glanced at the serpent surrounded clock on the fireplace mantel. "We don't want to be late for that, eh?" he asked Draco with a lift of his own eyebrow. Then to sweeten the pot. "Snape is back..."

At that single name that Jack said, the first years gathered before them looked thoroughly rattled. Seems Draco made Snape his number one character within the grand majority of his stories. Soft talking between them started up..and Draco allowed it as he nodded towards Jack with a heave of breath. "Good point, with his first day back..it wouldn't be smart." Standing up to retrieve his books and homework from the nearby table. "I'm ready when you are."

The draught Snape had been working on turned out to be one of his favorites-- something he had learned from a fakir many years since and not one you read about in many books, or even wizarding journals. The ingredients clung to the unwary and would stain the fingers for days, not to mention the lingering smell... but he had memories about this one. Perhaps not so much fond, but memories nevertheless. He busied himself with the preparation as the smell wafted through the rooms.

Jack nodded and make quick work of his smoke, and the disposing of the tell tale evidence before dashing up to his room to collect his books, and return to accompany Malfoy to class. He took in a deep breath and could only wonder about the random feeling of dread and panic that surrounded the notion of Potions Class now.

Once stepping into that classroom, it was instantly different..and sometimes, change was good..but right now..it made him shutter. He didn't think Snape would be the same, but exactly how drastically different would he be after such an absence. Eyes examined the classroom as he settled his books on the usual table. A frown crossing over his features, a glance to Jack before settling into his seat.

Snape didn't enter the room on time. Not like his usual punctilious self. He came in, slowly, his usual pallor seeming a whiter shade of pale, enhanced by the deep ebony of his robes. He looked up at the class, as if they were a nuisance. Which, of course. They were. "Class. Today you will be brewing a warding potion. Would anyone like to tell me what that is?" he said, sounding infinitely bored by the entire affair.

Jack returned Draco's glance as he took his "new" seat to Draco's sinister, and set his supplies down as well. He looked around the classroom not sure what to expect, and then, dismayed a bit at what he say when Snape entered. Jack sat stock still, hands folded on his desk, and sat like the rest of the room was. Holding it's collective breath.

There was an abrasive air about Snape when he walked in. Something he wasn't sure which way to take. The absence from class seemed to have a very large impact on his very being. Eyes tore away from the Potion Master and over to Jack. The attitude in which Jack was portraying himself was just as extreme. But perhaps on the other side of the spectrum. Seems the rest of the class sensed this as well.. not even the supposed "smartest" students in the school dared to clue in what a warding potion was. And he'd be damned if he would be the one to answer.

Even Hermione looked a little taken aback, but why she held her tongue was anyone's guess. Snape raked his eyes over the students, openly staring at him for the most part. Well, he'd got their avid attention-- and they were watching him more intently even than those on their first day did. When suitably warned of course. "A warding potion does as it says," Snape said with a disgusted roll of his eyes, but they did not meet any other students' eyes themselves. "They can be applied to objects or to people, and they keep what they are targeted to away from the object. To make a powerful one can take months, but we shall start with a more simple version." He pointed to the blackboard. "Copy those down."

Jack jumped right to work, whipping out a quill and setting it to parchment almost faster than Hermione. His overly neat style of lettering rapidly filled paragraph after paragraph in an effort to not be the first done, but not the last by a long shot. He cast a glance over at Malfoy, and gave him a slow smile, it's meaning ambiguous, then glanced over in the Gryffindor direction, and a the back of Harry's head.

Draco wasn't the quickest to jot down the notes..but it was done. To cross Snape down would mean a lovely trip to the guillotine, if Snape had one. He returned the glance towards Jack, a slight brow raised in his direction. Questioning his reasons for being so overly studious even for being a Slytherin. He was putting Hermione to shame!

Neville Longbottom was almost knocking over his inkwell in an effort to get the notes down, looking almost anaphylactic. His hands shook violently, knocking the nib against the glass. Snape glared at him and the left hand suddenly rose up to quiet the jitters. When they had all done, Snape sighed; "You may begin."

Jack started to take his supplies out of his bag, then looked over at Draco. He leaned a bit closer to whisper, "He didn't pair us off.... Odd, don't you think?" he observed.

Very, it was odd. They were usually always paired off with people that they didn't agree with. But today, they were keep as individuals. Draco leaned back with a whisper. "Perhaps he wants to tear us to shreds one by one?" Keeping secretive for his own good. But it might not help, being almost dead still within the room..but how could teenagers go a whole class without the semblance of speech?

Snape began to stalk the aisles in his usual manner, but his pace was off. Slower. More jarring. "The ungulent works best when used to repel organic objects. So for this lesson you shall try and repel..." he paused, "a feather."

Jack could not help but snicker at that, along with most of the class, despite how well they knew Snape's reactions to such outbursts. "A Feather." he repeated silently, glancing around the room for the general consensus of the others. It was about the same level of astonished amusement.

Even a smirk from Draco's lips. Grinning at such a thing to repel, he was sure that within the not to distant future, he would be fatally injured from an ill raised feather. "Beware the feather.." Snickering softly towards Jack.

Snape scowled deeply, it seemed even audibly. "Much as pride in one's work is an attribute I like to instill, I should council you all to think more closely about your own rather paltry abilities. I would be surprised if half you could repel even a feather." A sneer. "Such is the level I have to sink to."

Jack snickered back at Draco's comment, but by stomping on his one toe with the heel of his boot, he managed to chase the merry mood aside, and begin work on the task at hand. Draco's words, "Beware the feather." continued to roll around in his head, and he could not rid of the grin on his face, but he managed not to laugh or giggle again.

Of course, Hermione was the first to get the potion done, Jack close behind on her heels. Draco was perhaps the fourth or fifth done.. and already finding boredom in waiting for the other to catch up. Perhaps it was the fact that Snape wasn't bellowing for them to hurry up like he usually did. He leaned over towards Jack, inspecting his potion. "I hope you did it right, or you might just face the wrath of the feather..or other such frightening objects."

Snape took his position by the door, trying not to batter down the walls and shout at the students in his class, desperately fighting the urge to ram something into their seemingly impervious skulls. He stared at his desk rather than at anyone working, and then it hit him. Or it didn't. Someone had been messing with his door! That's what wasn't right... the draught...

Jack cant help but snicker at Draco's comment again, and looks over at him. "I want to learn to repel Fellatia.... Do you suppose this will work if she is wearing feathers or you turn her into a canary?" he grins.

"SILENCE!" Snape hurtled at the two Slytherins. "Detention, both of you." He glared at them, daring them to talk further. Then he continued, as if he hadn't just reprimanded his own house. "Apply the ugulent to the inside of the jars provided."

Draco almost jumped as that voice snapped in their direction. Making him sink slightly towards the desk, a wounded dog that had just been beaten by a switch. Growling softly as well, for detention would prove to be insufferable. Scared of the possibility of more by simply talking, he did what he was told.

Jack sighed, softly, and rolled his eyes, "Terrific" he thought to himself. At least he would not be alone in his punishment, and that, was strangely calming. He could only wonder what detestable things they would have to do to appease Snape's ire. Shaking his head, and brushing his bicolored bangs out of his eyes with a blow of breath upwards, he waited to test his potion against, the dreaded, feather.

Snape's sudden rage vanished as soon as it had appeared, but he skulked to the front of the class with a definite air of annoyance. Slytherins and Gryffindors now stared openly at him, and he hated them for their stupidity. A few rattled commands and the students began trying to put the feathers into the jars.

Damn feather, yes, it was the feather's fault for this detention. Blame it on something inanimate. A glance from the corner of his eyes was placed towards Jack, but only a second before returning towards that potion and feather at hand. Doing as they were just told to do, putting the feather in the jar. How completely mindstakingly hard.

Jack's turn was next and under Snape's icy cold stare, and his feather, like most students and Snape, couldn't get away from the potion fast enough. Jack looked at the feather floating away from the jar with a childlike wonder, for a moment, frozen in an innocent state of rapture.

Some feathers refused to do anything but sit in their jars, but the majority either hovered inside, not touching the walls, or floated a little above the openings. Snape did his best 'see' glare at everyone, then caught the moony-eyed Jack going gaga over the simple trick. He snorted derisively. "Right. Now that is quite finished you may clear up. Your next assignment shall be on the importance of the little things like detail. And long. If you have to ask how long, then you have a problem."

It was a wonder how much a little potion could cause such wonderment in everybody's faces, including his own. Watching the feather refusing the touch the potion coated jar as if it would be it's death. Of course, there were those who failed, Neville included. When the assignment was muttered, he heard the entire class groan in anguish.

Jack snapped out of his haze, hearing the assignment, and quickly noting it down before starting to gather up his things. He looked over at Draco. "What do you think we will have to do for him?" he asked in a low tone. "Clean the beakers in his office?"

Draco sighed as he thought about the detention, knowing it would be something tedious..and it's purpose was suppose to build character. But for all the detentions he has served, he never felt a pinch of character build. "I wouldn't be surprised if he made us clean beakers with toothbrushes." As he gathered up his books, shoving them into his bag before turning towards the exit..and out of this room.

Jack, once packed up, stood and waited to follow Draco out. How odd that was, and looked down as they passed Snape and his ominous perch near the door to the classroom.

"Bring your *own* toothbrushes then, Malfoy, Grim," Snape uttered without looking up from his now resumed seat at his own desk, looking intently at the stool in front of him like there was nothing more interesting in the world. No. Nothing.

Jack let his head fall back and his groan heard aloud as he gave Malfoy a slap to the back of the head as he followed him out of the classroom. "Thanks Draco..."

2002-07-31 18:40:00,
Ugh...

Well, Snape's first day back as Potion's Master was par for the course. Not that I recall him being gone, really... but yet he was... Odd. Odd. But then, I am putting down all this missing time in my life down to the dual existence I am living. I am more Jack than anything now. Other parts of my being have been so far supressed that I often have a hard time recalling well known memories. Good or bad.

Anyway. Potions was interesting. Snape was as irritable as if he had a bad molar. He was certainly back on his game by the end of class when he had us brew a Warding Potion to ward off, you guessed it, the dreaded and deadly FEATHER! I am serious, a Feather Warding Potion.

Well, Malfoy and I found this far too amusing and were arsing around got ourselves assigned to Detention. This was bad enough, but Malfoy had to open his mouth and comment on my idea that Snape would have us cleaning beakers. He added that most likely that would be the case, only with toothbrushes. Snape heard that of course, and told us to bring OURS to detention with us.

Great, spectacular... I may have to learn a curse or two to throw Malfoy's way. Wait, I DO know a few.... Or at least, I DID....

But other than detention, the missing time and my lovely new white forelock, (which the girls find quite fetching. Hm....) and the weirdness I am getting from Snape. Life is just a bowl of chocolate frogs.

Well, dinner is soon, that will mean sitting with Malfoy and crew again. He's not really that bad. So far. God, Harry would have my bollocks for earrings IF he knew who I was friends with, and that I was actually finding him, tolerable.

God, I need a smoke.

2002-07-31 22:18:00,

How could I have forgotten? How could I recall?, Today is Harry's Birthday! My God, how could I of ALL people forget?? 

It had totally slipped my mind until I heard him and Hermione talking after dinner. She got him a customized Quidditch set, monogrammed and everything. You have to like that girl. She's spot on. Anyway, that doesn't excuse my lapse.

I suppose I could use the excuse of what I have been going through as of late, but still. It's late, but I am suddenly finding myself in my own mind, and I NEED to get him a present. I will wait a while longer then sneak out via the tunnel I know so well and hit Hogsmeade. I can be back in a flash, and owl it to him.

2002-07-31 23:37:00,
Happy Birthday Harry

Well, I made it back and just in time to miss Snape on his nightly rounds of looking for... what else, students out of bed. Or maybe he was looking for something else for a change. No matter. The present is wrapped, cost me a pretty galleon, but he is worth it. I just need to scrawl a note and give it to an owl to take to him.

Dearest Harry,

So sorry for being so long in writing. I am well, doing well, and am close enough by to keep a watchful eye on you. Here is your birthday present. I probably shouldn't be giving you this, but you need shoes that will go with that marvelous cape of yours...

These are called Boots of Destiny, and despite their lofty title, are usually put to nefarious use. Place them on your feet, then say something. You will be silent and unheard by those around you as long as you are wearing them.

Use them well. Use them SMART.

Much love, and Happy Birthday,

Sirius