2002-11-01 07:21:00,
Today is the first day...

Of my life as a 17 Year Old. Again. How was my Birthday? Well, I got a note from Blaise, she wants to meet up with me, SO it looks like she may have found out about it...

Snape? Well, after I was interrogated about my trespassing into his Rooms, I let a mental musing about my birthday slip, and he picked up on it. 

I told him I had simply planned to go drink myself into a coma, and he then offered quite Potente Potables of his own. This went along fine until I snarked my way into a silly session of Birthday Spanking that went terribly dark. 

It started out fun, as foreplay, I thought, then he again LOST IT. He put his hand to my ass so hard and repeatedly that I am again having a hard time sitting. After the spanking crossed the line of being "amusing" he suddenly shoved me off of his lap, onto the floor and warned me away from him. 

When I did I go from Sex Toy to Whipping Boy? I would like to know. Something big, and bad is brewing with him. I can feel it. I am being pushed away from him, his anger and the danger I obviously do not see because of it. Dammit I wish he could know I am not truly the child I appear to be. I could help. I know I could. 

Voldemort. He has to be behind this. I am being pushed away for my own protection, my own good. He values me this much? 

I want to cry, and to slap him at the same time. I want to many things, none of which I can have. 

As ever.

2002-11-01 07:43:00,
OWL POST to Remus Lupin

Remus, 

It does my heart good to hear that you want to see me, but I am afraid I will have to refuse your request for an audience. 

This has nothing to do with our past my friend. It has everything to do with the present and the work I am doing for Albus. You have no idea how much it hurts me to not be able to tell all there is to this, especially considering the past. 

I am nearby, watching all of the goings on as much as I can. But because of the method I am using to hide, I cannot meet with you in person. Can you ask me what you need to in Owl Post?

Forgive me Remus, please. There is nothing I need more than to be able to see you, to speak to you, but I just can't.

Sirius

2002-11-01 22:47:00,
Finally Friday...

So fucking what. You would think, that considering the debaucle my birthday was, thanks to HIM, things would have been better today.

I was so wrong. I was clearly ignored in Potions, to the point I am sure it had to be noticed by some one, Gruffindor or Slytherin. When Snape's Golden Serpent, raised his hand, ahead of the Gryffindors yet again, only to be shot down with "Stop showing off Grim. Give someone else a chance..." 

I became sullen and silent like Viktor Krum after that. I left class first, and sod him if I will do the homework this weekend. 

I would like to know what the bloody Hell I did wrong, to deserve this. Cherished? Protected? If this is the case, I think I prefer it elsewhere. I am not good at appreciating cold love. 

If in fact that is what this is, for either of us. 

As ever.

2002-11-02 19:53:00,
Saturday Nights all right for fighting,

But, the would only get me detention, so I have locked myself in my room with a bottle of stolen mead. Yes, I should have been studying today, but with the link closed, by both of us, I went Marauding...

The Passage under the One Eyed Witch, the trusty standby, and soon I was in the basement of Honeydukes. A short time later and a few visits done, I was loaded down with several shrunken bottles of Mead and headed back home to Hogwarts. 

I am laying in bed now, writing this, and will soon imbibe. I have no plans for tomorrow. I may sleep all day. 

Who knows? Who cares?

As ever.

2002-11-03 21:38:00,
A cry in the night.,

An IC RP with Jack Grim.

Jack was laying on his bed, thumbing through a book of Hexes he had pilfered from the Restricted Section of the Library. He was expressing his anger and disappointment in childish ways to be sure. It was almost as if he was trying to incur the wrath of someone in particular. 

He thumbed through the book, perusing the various hexes and curses while sipping at his mead. It was all going along quite swimmingly until the silent call of distress came slamming into his mind. 

Snape, terrified. Voldemort, murderous. 

"Master!" he cried out. Reflex. Adrenaline flooding his system. He sat up on the bed, eyes wide, looking around, then he closed them. Where are you? he screamed on his own, then again he was shut off, but not before an image came through to him. A fine Mansion. Rich elegant. Snape Manor. 

"Snape Manor? He's there?" he asked in a trembling whisper, then moved to slip from his bed, and go to help. At that very moment however, something happened to prevent him from doing that. 

The Ouroboros was moving, and suddenly tightened around Jack's neck with such sudden power and strength, he cried out and reached his hands up to try and free himself of it. It was as if he was being strangled again, and this time there was nothing erotic about it. 

"Help... Help me..." he tried to yell, but it was barely a whisper. He fell back onto his bed, still trying to force his fingers under the metal serpent and push it away from his neck. Master... please... he cried out as he felt his vision fading, and the metal serpent tightened more. 

There came no reply, only the steely embrace of the Ouroboros, unyielding to pulls or pleas. Jack tried to pull air into his lungs but the passageways were cut off. He opened his eyes just in time to see everything turn grey, then black."

2002-11-04 07:45:00,
A Present from the Master,

Who else could it be from? I awoke this morning to find the most beautiful of tomes at the foot of my bed waiting for me. It is a thing of ancient and rare beauty, and while I am not one to get emotional over books, this, is a work of bound art. 

The cover, the pages, the precise setting of the type. I can see where the ancient lead type met fine paper and left subtle indentations with each letter. It pains me I do not have the time to lay here with ti now, alone in my room and read it from cover to cover, but I would be missed in classes, and I have given my word to be better than all in my House in my academic endeavors. 

I shall take it with me, wrapped in a linen shroud and attempt to read through it in any spare moment I have. 

Thank you Master, it is by far the most wondrous present I have ever been given in my entire life. Thank you. As this book now belongs to me, I shall always be yours... Grim 

That is the note I have quickly scrawled to send via House Elf to him before class. I have sent the same message silently, and received a sense of appreciation back. 

About last night? I will ask him, perhaps. I suppose he will share with me what he thinks I need to know, when he is ready. I will wait for the call on that matter. My neck? Bruised in a shadow to match the shape and width of the Ouroboros. Apparently I put up quite a fight against it when I tried to free myself, and go to him. I will have to make sure my collar stays buttoned to day, God help us if Remus sees this latest damage. 

That reminds me, I was supposed to talk with Snape after my encounter with Remus. I can only hope Remus kept his word and kept his mouth shut. 

There will be Hell to pay if he hasn't. 

I suppose I should send a not to Cho. I haven't seen her since our "date", and I am sure she was quite disturbed by how our eveing ended and the things that were made apparent to her. No rest for the Wicked.

As ever.

2002-11-04 10:11:00,
House Elf Note to Cho Chang,

Dear Cho,

I am sorry I have not contacted you before this. I wanted to first of all thank you so very much for spending the evening with me. It was a memorable experience for me, and I hope it was for you as well. 

As for our rather unconventional exit route from our sitting room, all is fine with me, there were no repercussions worth mentioning as a result. I can only imagine that what you saw and experienced created some questions in your mind. If you want to talk with me, feel free. You know were to find me, usually. 

Fondly, 

Jack Grim

2002-11-04 12:58:00,
OWL POST to Remus Lupin,

Remus,

So much of your letter just breaks my heart and makes me want to roar, and cry, and hold you tightly all in the same moment. 

Attraction to the boy, a student is a dangerous sign of your loneliness and need for a mate. I feel the same loneliness, but it is not meant to be for me. For us. 

I know this is not the answer you wanted, but I am sure you expected it. 

I know of the boy of which you speak, I was the one who found him in the woods and directed Harry to him. Danger follows him like a shadow but I see him as no threat to Harry, or the other students. Outside Dark Forces are after him, it is not the other way around. 

As for Snape, I was at first shocked, then amused, as I always was at all of your antics. But steer clear of him Remus. I know things about him, that are going on with him, and his work for Albus that has him on the edge. He is riding a razor's edge of danger and pain none of us could even begin to grasp at, and he may lose control and do something horrible to you. I couldn't bear it if that happened.

It may seem hard to live alone, sleep alone, but consider this, I did it for twelve years, and am still living alone. For the better of many, a few have to suffer. Remember that Remus.

And remember I still care about you like a brother, and then some. It just cannot be as it was. Keep your chin up little Mooney, the sun will shine on us all again some day.

Sirius

2002-11-04 17:51:00,
Come go away.

An IC Rp with Jack and Snape.

It was late in the afternoon, classes done for the day, and Jack was making his way down to the dungeons. He had managed a few moments to look at the book he had been given, but was eager to get to his Dorm and delve fully into it. He looked up from his quick step pace to see he was just now outside of Snape's Classroom. He paused. Master? He sent as softly as one could send a mental calling. He waited. 

Snape was trying, and failing, to work. Nothing he could do was right, and he really didn't want to, deep down. But he had to try. He did. Or else, what was there left? He was busy in a mental self-beration about some stupid petty detail or other, which whilst seemed important at the time, after the distraction he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. A call. Snape mentally sent a non-commital sound, unsure, really. But of what? 

Jack frowned, it wasn't a slamming refusal, or a sunny welcome. That worried him. Snape ran hot and cold, never luke warm I don't want to disturb you Sir. I do want to thank you for the lovely book. I am going to bed to read it now. Thank you he sent, then took a step toward the entrance to Slytherin House. 

Snape wanted... Snape didn't know how he felt, or what he wanted. It was... impossible. How could you resolve two opposites at once? You couldn't... Maybe veer to one, veer to the other, but that was only half the job done. But if you didn't veer, then you were twice damned. It's nothing he finally replied. But don't bend the corners? Anxiety evident there. 

Jack smiled at that, Right. No dog earring of the corners, but I can use if for setting tea cups on if I have no saucer, right? he grinned. A moment later, he sent, What shall we do about Lupin? he sent, using the familiar moniker for the Professor. A minor slip however. 

No, because if you're drinking tea you can bloody well make me a cup and then I'll find something you can use... Snape sent sullenly back, not good-humouredly in the slightest. Then the Werewolf was mentioned, and Snape noticeably winced, and his tone darkened. Oh yes, I did get a call from him... 

Jack stopped walking, and a moment later, he stood outside of Snape's Office door, he knocked, then waited for an invitation to enter. If Snape didn't want to go over this matter, he certainly did. 

The Potions Master didn't feel much like company. Other people sucked. They made things go wrong. They irritated him, abused him, insulted him, annoyed him. So being lonely was not something he understood or enjoyed in the slightest. But.... he didn't trust himself. Silence. He wasn't going to invite him in, or send him away. No more decisions, please, world? 

Jack waited. Silence. Mental and verbal. He sighed, looking down at the ground. He waited a while longer, then turned, and in silence returned to his Dorm and shut himself inside the curtains. He set the book outside him, and stared at it, as if willing it to do ... something. Anything. It of course, did nothing but sit there. Jack idly reached a hand up to stroke along the length of the book's spine, then did the same along the spine of the Ouroboros. It was firm, and still now. Unlike last night. With a sigh, Jack flopped back onto his back and stared up at the canopy overhead. 

Snape's eyes were closed, but he could still see. Why did he feel so bad? Why? He imagined his desktop in his mind to stop him seeing anything else, placed things where he remembered them as being. And lord, but hadn't he stared at it for long enough tonight. Essays. Books. Bottles. Letters. Scrolls. Seals. Lamp. He opened his eyes and saw the fuzzier mental image replaced by the sharper, visual one. Almost perfect. The little game did nothing, however, and there was no pride to be found in the test. 

Books, then. He had memorised some of them, some of the ones he liked the best. Could still... half see them. But not. He knew what they looked like, what they said, what the characters looked like, but he couldn't call up a picture, just the abstract knowledge. In his mind he opened the book currently lying on Jack's bed, carefully turned the pages until the first chapter, page i, and started to read. 

Jack looked to the side, at the book once again. Considering. He bit down on his lip, and his stomach growled. He snorted at the hunger that always seemed to be on edge with him and rolling onto his belly, carefully opened the book. He slowly, carefully turned the pages until he stopped, by providence almost at one in particular at the beginning, and began to read."

2002-11-04 21:40:00,
I need to learn some manners...

An IC RP with Jack Grim and Blaise.

Blaise sat in the corner of the common room gazing into the fireplace once in a while she would look down at her book in her lap and read a bit. The common room was almost empty quite unusual fat this hour. She hadn't seen Jack all weekend nor Adrian, since he was in Ireland. She momentarily saw Montague but really didn't feel like talking to the pompous idiot.

Jack came staggering down the staircase into the Common Room, rubbing his eyes, and looking like he had just woken up from a nap, in his clothes. He blinked as he looked around the room. "What time is it?" he muttered to no one in particular. 

Blaise looked up and sighed and looked up at the clock, "It is eight, Jack" She then glance back into the fire watching it ever so carefully. "Feel free and come sit with me, that is if you want to." She raise her eyebrow wondering if he had heard the latest rumors and was half wondering what he was thinking about them. She also wanted to know about him and Cho, and to give him his birthday present. 

Jack staggered over to the couch she was sitting on, and flopped down near her. "I guess I missed supper, eh?" he said, then let loose with a large yawn, and looked over at her, blinking slowly. "So, what's the news Zabini?" 

"Yeah I suppose you and I both did, I haven't been paying attention to the time really." Blaise exhaled deeply she didn't notice she had missed dinner and she didn't even realized she was hungry. She bit her lip as she glanced up at him, News, news about what?" She had a feeling she knew what news he was talking about. What would she tell him? Part of her wondering if he would be jealous because he wasn't the main objection of her affection. Part of her did like him for more than a friend but only a part of her. And Blaise figured Jack thinks she is completely into him and only him. "Is there any thing new with you?"

Jack sighed deeply, then waved his hand around lazily, "Nothing of note I can think of..." he said, looking at his fingernails in a bored fashion, then back at Blaise. "How about you?" he said with a wicked grin. "Who have you tormented today?" he asked, then summoned a House Elf to bring him and Blaise supper. 

Blaise smirked, "Oh no one important, just a few Slytherin first years and an annoying Hufflesnuff." She grin at Jack, "How about you?" She closed her book and put it in her bag and pulled out a package and put it to the side. "So did you receive my note?" She looked aound the room hoping the house elf would hurry. 

Jack nodded, and looked her directly in the eyes, "Yes, I did. What did you want to talk about?" he asked in a lazy tone. He glanced at a few other Slytherins moving through the room. He glared at them as they dared whisper as they passed Blaise and himself. He thought about the book up on his bed, and realized he wanted to be back up there reading it again. Soon. It wasn't going anywhere. It was HIS now. Jack smiled wide at that thought and a warm feeling stirred in his belly, and ran downward. 

Blaise smiled, "Don't worry it is not what you maybe thinking." She looked up and was also glaring at the Slytherins, "I swear it seems everyone is up in my business lately," she snarled. She looked back at Jack and exhaled deeply, "I have been trying to get in touch with you since Halloweenâ¤?" Blaise smiled she was Planing on torturing Jack seeing how long she could drag it out. 

Jack raised an eyebrow at her slowly. "Really?" he purred softly. "Want to hear all about my date with Cho I suppose?" he grinned, then laid down on his back on the couch like some great lazy beast. 

Blaise laughed, "Perhaps, that was one thing, but the other is a bit more important." She smiled just then the House elf showed up. Blaise took her plate and goblet and looked at Jack. She then fingered her lips, as she tried to decide on what to take a bite of next. 

Jack on the other hand, began to devour the food as soon as it was set down. No time to talk as long as food was to be had. He scooped up fork and mouth full, one after the other, and didn't slow down until three plates had been emptied and he was on his fourth goblet of juice. He pause then, wiping at his mouth with a napkin and looking ferally over at Blaise. "What was that?" he asked as he reached for some dessert, watching her closely. 

Blaise had started to eat as he talk she didn't realize how hungry she was. Or thirsty she was practically done her first plate and had two goblets of juice. She then looked up at Jack, "Well, what was the 31st?" She smiled slightly wondering if he had any idea she knew it was his birthday. Blaise smirked at Jack, "I am sure you know what would be More important than a date with anyone..." 

Jack shrugged as the cake was devoured and more juice was drunk, then he let a monstrous belch loose before answering her. "Halloween?" he asked with a wicked grin. "What else should it be?" 

Blaise was now starting on her second place she looked at jack, "You got to be shitting me... come on, You want me to say it don't you!" Blaise looked at him and shook her head, "Halloween was your birthday wasn't it?" Blaise then looked at him, "As for why you weren't at the Ball we can talk about that after." Blaise smiled as she waited for him to confirm it about his birthday. 

Jack smiled slowly at her, there was the briefest flash of empty pain in his eyes, but it was quickly vanquished away by a slow blink of his eyes. "Aye, it was... forgotten by all, including myself..." he said quietly as he drew circles in the velvet of the couch he laid upon with his fingertip. Around and around. He then flickered his gaze back up to her. "Why? Got a present for me?" he asked with a sour smile. "Snape gave me a wonderful book...." he said wistfully, looking up at the ceiling now. "I fell asleep reading it this afternoon...." 

Blaise smiled, "Perhaps, I do." Blaise picked up the package which held two books inside she hoped that he would like them. She looked at Jack and smiled as she handed him the package, "Here." She took a deep breath waiting to see his reaction, "I didn't really know what else to get you..." 

Jack smiled, warmly now, and he gracefully rolled to a sitting position from the lying down Roman eating style he had affected and took the package from her. "Heavy, isn't it?" he observed, then setting it on his lap, unwrapped the books, and smiled wide as he looked down at them. He slowly ran his hands over the fine leather covers, feeling every ripple and embossment of the leather, and the fine gold embossing there. It was like he was stroking a lover, and his eyes glittered as he read the titles, "Advance Medicial Potions, Philtres and Phials." he purred out the words, then looked over at Blaise. "Thank you Blaise, these are lovely," he said, then leaning forward, he cupped the side of her face in his left hand and kissed her gently. 

Blaise was thuderstruck by Jack kissing her for a moment she kissed him back she then pulled away. She took a deep breath was jack purposely trying to torment her? She looked at him and smiled, "Your welcome, Jack." She took his hand, "I am glad you like... I wasn't sure what else to get you." Blaise took a deep breath and looked around the common room one two other people were in there. Blaise took a sip from her goblet and then placed it down. "Soo, Tell me where were you Thursday, you missed a lot... okay maybe not a lot." Blaise laughed slightly wondering if he had heard anything about her and Adrian. 

Jack leaned back onto the couch, and cradled the book in his lap carefully as he looked over at her with lazy eyes. The full belly and warm room was calming the savage beast. "I spent it talking with Cho. Nothing more..." he said wistfully as he stroked his hands over the cover of the top book idly. "How about you?" he asked with the lift of an eyebrow. 

"Oh, Well you missed an interesting night, and my costume," Blaise smiled slightly. She took a deep breath, "What about me?" Blaise looked around the room and then looked back at Jack. She watched him as he moved his hand across the books. "What would you like to know about me?"

Jack looked at her for a long moment, "I am not sure. You are up to something. I can tell. Plans in motion, plots hatched." he said softly, watching her reaction closely, sensing things she could not hide or mask. "I suppose if that keeps you busy..." he said, then let a yawn escape. He covered his mouth, and his thoughts wandered briefly to Snape. 

"Me up to something, not at all... and even if I was I wouldn't dare tell you of any of my so-called plots." Blaise grinned. "I am not sure if I should be relieved that you didn't ask me if I was 'dating' Adrian." She ran her fingers through her hair, her mind wondered for a moment to the previous night. Just thinking about it amused her. Blaise wet her lips and looked up at Jack and smiled. 

"Adrian?" he snorted. "He's a silly git. Third string Quidditch Hack." he said then laughed. "I can't believe you even share air with his ilk Blaise. My opinion of you has just plummeted." he said with a cruel sneer. 

Blaise laughed, "Actually he is not he is going to be playing in the next official game, and he is not anything like I once thought he was.... your just jealous because the fact I could have feelings for someone other than you." 

Blaise laughed, "Your jealous! You are jealous because there is a possibility that I could possibly have feelings for someone other than you." Blaise looked at Jack and smirked, "Just so you know, I am not 'with him' and just so you know he is not anything like he puts on. like people underestimate me they underestimate him. Oh and one more thing he isn't any string anymore." Blaise leaned towards Jack, "You know me better, don't I get involved with people that are not worthy of my time?" 

Jack just managed to refrain from laughing fully in her face. "Jealous?" he snickered. "You are so deluded Zabini. Friends we are, nothing more, and barely that." he growled "I fucked you once, and haven't been able to shake you since." he said then slowly got up from the couch. "As for getting involved with people not worthy of YOUR time, maybe it's the OTHER way around my dear Blaise." he said, then bowing, blew her a kiss. "Thanks for the books Zabini, have a nice evening..." he said as he turned and headed back to his dorm, chuckling the entire way. 

Blaise glared at him and got up and followed him and grabbed his arm, "You are such a liar, we are friends, you and I both know that. So don't try and deny it." She exhaled deeply, "You haven't tried to shake me if anything you try and keep me close. Jack quit being so fucking stubborn and just admit it." She let him go, "I like having you as a friend, you are a great friend I have told you that many times, but some times I really don't understand you and why the hell you do some of the things you do." Blaise pushed passed him, "Why don't you be truthful to yourself and to me for just once? And this trying to push me away bullshit won't work, because I know the route all too well." 

Jack leveled a deathly dangerous glare at Blaise as she grabbed his arm, and he barely held back drawing his wand on her. He listened to her tired then with calm eyes, and then watched her storm off. Anger gave way to amusement, then to laughter. He shook his head and continued on up the stairs, and into his room. "You are quite a piece of work Zabini, don't ever change..." he mused."

2002-11-06 16:27:00,
Teacher/Student Conference,

AN IC RP, with Jack and Snape. NO S&M for you squeamish types...

In the tunnel, deep in the lower levels of Hogwarts, one Potions Master slept, knees drawn up, hands laced beneath them, face resting on his knees under an inky, murky black halo of hair. His back was against the old stone- but his own body temperature was rarely much above it to make that a problem. He woke, early, as was his custom, but not with a start. A slow, resurfacing into consciousness that left him a little puzzled as to where he was... clear eyes blinked about as it slowly came back. Oh, yes that was why. Surprisingly, however, he didn't feel anything other than a bit sheepish for having fallen asleep there, and when he experimentally rolled his shoulders, he found that they weren't stiff and cramped as he expected them to be. Odd. Slowly he slid his legs down and across the floor- testing, and looked at the crumpled state he was in with wry amusement. 

That would need sorting. The dreams he had been having flitted half-remembered through his mind, and he struggled to grasp them, like a wet sliver of soap. They eluded him, and all he could remember was some vague sensations and ideas... He'd have to think about those later. His internal clock told him what time it was- well before classes, so there was no worry there. He knew he was going to see Albus, but not when he had decided, but he figured that could wait till breaktime at least- to arrange a time anyway. Arching his back lazily, he called out as he decided what to do with himself. You awake yet?

Jack was laying in bed, tottering between sleep and wake, curled up on his side, one hand under his head and pillow, the other tucked bewteen his thighs. He was waking up slowly, watching the sky change color and thinking of only breakfast when the summons came, and the Ouroboros slid happily around his neck once. Nearly Master. Did you sleep well? came the lazy reply. 

I slept, Snape replied. Which was more than he could have said many a night... but now he came to think of it... Yes. He had slept rather well. In a way he only remembered happening a few times before. Maybe he wasn't a bed person then. A good dose of cold water should do the trick, he mused, or failing that there's a few other ways... Snape supressed the need to yawn, and was surprised at himself. Feet braced against the floor, he pushed himself up, sliding his back along the wall as he did so. Don't dawdle, though. We need to talk. 

Jack smiled, picturing Snape or himself in a cold shower was amusing, but not nearly as amusing as other remedies for Morning Male Afflictions. Shall I come to you before Breakfast master? he asked as he slipped from the warmth of his bed, and shivering, made his way to the loo. 

Snape rarely slumped. In fact, he was rarely to be found in any posture that didn't look like it needed a rather stiff rod shoving places to keep it so. But for the minute he indulged in leaving his shoulders pressed against the wall, reluctant to leave, head tilted back a bit to keep that contact too- looking all the while as if he was just about to push off and stand unsupported. Whatever is convenient, Snape thought. Though it might take a fair deal of time. There was more than one thing to think of, even if some were more pleasant than others. 

Since he had showered the night before, Jack skipped that ritual, and quicky got dressed, ignoring his room mates as usual while keeping up a silent conversation. I am dressed now Master, I can come straight away if you have the time. We can eat in your office if you like, or..... that may seem odd if we are both absent from a meal. I have heard the start of rumors. he said as he buttoned a shirt on, wincing at the bruise around his neck, then added a tie, vest and overcloak.

Snape's eyes had been closed to concentrate on the... comfortable feeling, and the conversation, but now they opened as if he could see some answers- something- in the empty tunnel. Rumours? Oh. He supposed he should have expected that. Thought not that long ago the grapevine had been declaring Jack was his son. Not to be dismissed, as he knew from his youth, but not to be taken too seriously. Also something he'd learned earlier on. You will not feel like eating afterwards. I must see Albus, anyway. Hurry, and I will be finished by the time you've wolfed it down. Or not. I do suppose you know what that does to your digestive system... but the grumbling was just his nature, and was hardly voiced as he reluctantly stood clear of the wall and trundled towards his rooms. 

Jack laughed aloud at that last comment, earning him a scathing, critical look from Malfoy. What did he care? Malfoy thought he was mad anyway, so why not add to the illusion. "What are you laughing at now Grim?" he hissed at Jack. Jack merely gave him a smirk and the lift of an eyebrow, "Far too complicated to explain to you now Malfoy, maybe later," he said as he slipped out of the room. Wolfed, sir? he mused with a grin. Odd choice of words considering the personages on staff here, wouldn't you say? In any case, I shall see you when you decide. Have a pleasant day Master, he sent. What could a kind sentiment hurt? 

Just a turn of phrase, or his bloody subconscious interfering again? Self-scrutiny like that would drive him insane again, so Snape banished it for the moment with a grunt. And all too accurate, unfortunately, he mused. Another reason Snape would prefer he didn't go to breakfast. But no. He wouldn't let him shake him. He'd survived him and worse through the years. Survived, yes. Another non-commital sound. Pull the other one, Grim, that one's got bells and Gryffindor classes on... 

Jack laughed aloud again, and shouldering his book bag, made his way up to the Great Hall and sat down at the end of a Slytherin table near the Teacher's Table. He nodded and grinned to those that bothered to look his way, and resting his chin in his hand, he looked down the table and amused himself with watching Blaise and her antics until the food was served. 

Later that afternoon.... In Snape's office. 

Albus had said a lot of things. Actually, when Snape thought about it, Albus had said very little, in comparison to himself, but when he ranked himself as Albus' equal he supposed he would have the same talent. Yes. And wishes were things that neighed and ate oats. Books were everywhere, lying open on pages, pieces of paper supplementing the bookmarks keeping pages Snape thought important. Infact, compared to the normal state of his affairs, it currently looked like one of the Weasley twins' prank bombs had exploded in the room. 

Jack stopped outside of the Office door and knocked three times, "Professor Snape?" he called out, sounding for any that maybe listening, sullen and bored. I am here for the conference Master, was the silent greeting that accompanied it. He liked mastering two forms of communication at once, kept the brain busy. 

"It isn't locked," came the reply, managing a rather good combination of irritation, disdain and a few less easily mastered character deficiencies that could almost have been lodged in the patent office. And here was me thinking you came to clean the shelves, he added, licking hsi thumb to rifle some pages in a book that was shaking a little, but clearly too scared to put up much of a fight. 

"Yes Sir," Jack reported aloud, trying to sound fearful, and nervous, then entered the office and shut the door behind him, leaving it to Snape to bolt as he liked. He crossed the room, then stood before Snape's desk, head bowed slightly, eyes down, and hands clasped behind him. He glanced to the side at the uncharacteristic upheval the room was in, but didn't comment. He took in a long breath, sighed patiently, and waited for direction to come. 

Snape waved a hand distractedly at a seat, finishing skim-reading the chapter he was currently in, before he realised that none of it was useful whatsoever, and placing the book down, open, on the table. It stayed open, but the spine did not look affected. "I expect you're wondering why I called you here," Snape said, before allowing himself another mental aside, before he knuckled down. Which is what has to be said, if convention has any precedence. Long fingers drummed on the desktop quietly, the cuff inching up a fraction, as he tried to sort this out in his mind before saying it for at least the hundredth time that day. 

Jack moved quickly and efficiently into the indicated seat, and sat, hands folded in his lap and eyes on Snape's. "I have a vague idea Sir. Pertaining to Professor Lupin perhaps, and then.... fears I had about my safety and that of my Head Of House the other night past." he said quietly as he felt the Ouroboros animate, and make slow laps around his neck. 

Alright, cut to the chase, and use a hammer for that stake while you're at it, why don't you? Snape mentally winced, but otherwise his facade was intact. Unconsciously, he rubbed the wrist of the hand hanging by his side against his leg slightly, but otherwise made no move. "Why, what threatened your safety?" he asked, confused, brow knitting in effort of thought. Not that he wanted to remember that day much- any of it. 

Jack looked down for a beat, swallowing before replying, he was looking for the right way to put this. "I feared for your safety, Sir, and when I received a call, my first thought was to come to your aid. I however, was prevented in doing this by the Ouroboros." he said in a soft narrative. Then as if to illustrate, he reached up, loosed his tie, and pulled the collar of his shirt down far enough to show the dark ligature marks around his his neck. 

Dark eyes widened a little, and then looked down. Lupin's words were still ringing in his ears, and this was just rubbing salt into raw wounds. And, like Snape always did, he tried to avoid subjects that were remotely dangerous. At least in public. His voice was a little quieter, but that was about the only difference. "Something needs to be done." And right now, I am open to suggestions... 

Jack felt a tensing in his gut at that phrase. It did not bode well, and the silent coda that followed did little to ease him. He sighed, "Tell me what I can do you for you Sir, I shall give any errand my full effort," But please.... do not dismiss me from your hand.... your touch. He added without looking up to meet Snape's gaze, he couldn't face the answer he feared was coming. 

Snape waved an open-palmed hand around the room, to the books lying around, despair summed up in the hang of his shoulders. His gut was clenching, and he tried his best to ignore that too. Not yet. Things needed saying. The easy way out caused too much trouble... "Riddle's... 'pet' will not please him, and he has a tendancy to... spoil that which he is jealous of." Something Snape knew all too well. from both sides. Not that he was proud of that. "I have asked Albus," Snape said, with a tinge of embarassment. The pride had had felt the first time long since disappeared. "But many hands..." trailing, the thought teetering into the abyss Snape felt he stood over. 

"Make light work..." Jack finished, and sighed louder this time. "So, he shall seek to destroy me, and you if you cannot make him what he desires..." he said in dead tone of voice. Jack paused, then looked up at Snape. "The bastard needs to die, once and for all." he said with a stern growl in his voice and a light of anger in his pale eyes. "I will do what I can to bring that about." he said bravely. "Is there any flaw in his invulnerability Master? Something we can exploit to our advantage? He WAS hurt by the bite of your Ouroboros, surely that must mean something?" he asked, the voice now slightly pleading, like a child desperately wanting to believe in a fairy tale. 

Many cooks spoil the broth. the automatically argumentative side of him threw in glibly. But he glid over that. "His style would be..." Worse. Snape knew that. "...different. Unfortunately, I am not so insane as to be able to understand everything he does, so what he would do is..." Worse than I could imagine, most like as not. And, mentally, he sent an almost physical, vehement agreement at what needed to be done to Voldemort, before he slumped a little again in the sight of a method. "I do not know, I have been trying to find that out..." Longer than you could know. "That is a possibility, but why it affected him so badly I have no idea." 

Jack nodded, thinking, then looked up. "He wants it, he wants me. I could go to him, let him...." he stopped for just a second, the bile rising in his throat at just the passing thought of being touched by one so foul, then blinking, he continued, ignoring the nausea. "Let him have at me, and perhaps, it shall strike him down like it did to Maxwell." he said softly. He ventured a look up from under his long fringe at Snape, trying to read his face, knowing that was the most futile plan of all. "I would do that for you, for everyone he threatens." he added. 

NO, came the immediate, shouted answer. A moment, and Snape waited for his breathing to slow a little, not hearing the low, angry growl he was giving out. "No. Aside from the fact that that is a stupid thing to do- a stupid, Gryffindor thing to do," and Snape could make that adjective sound an insult like no other, "It is not likely to work." Pause. Moderate... Nice shiny green gloss. "He didn't die the first time... No. We need to see what it is about the Ouroboros that affects him so." Snape started channelling his own, sudden anger into that furiously. 

Jack recoiled back in the chair at the fury of the mental shout, and curled up into a fetal position, hands over his ears. He trembled. He heard the name of his former house slandered, and that only ground him further down mentally and physically into the chair. He wished it would suck him into a void. Forgive me, please, Master. he silently whimpered, cowering much like Wormtail before his Master when he was displeased. 

Irritated again, but mostly at Voldemort, Snape fumed away from the table, baling his hands into fists. I'm not letting that bastard near anyone, Snape snarled, Not even over my dead body. He winced. That was a very real possibility, actually. Lalala... don't think about that. Don't think about hands on his neck, choking the life from him. Nope. The sudden wash of rage started to slowly dissapate, leaving an empty feeling, a dead feeling, numb. "Just don't... mention that again." 

Yes, Master. came the short reply and he slowly uncurled himself from the ball he was in and leaned foreward, resting his arms on his thighs, and his head in his hands. Why does it have to be this way? Why can't we just be as we want, and be happy? he mused before realizing he was pouting 'aloud' to the open channel. Steeling himself, forcing his feelings along that road aside, he sat up, and stared straight ahead, affecting one of Snape's posture perfect sitting positions. "I await your instructions, Sir." he said softly. 

"I'm afraid my own outlook is rather... biased." To say the very least. He might know a deal more than the majority would about this situation, but his point of view was more than slightly skewed. Which was why he... needed help. As long as he didn't think of it that way- as delegation instead. Of using resources. Yes, that was easier. Slightly. "If you get the time, see if there is anything that may be of use... Madam Pince has a carte blanche in your name... as long as you don't abuse it," Snape said, with a hint of warning. "And before you worry, it is from our esteemed Headmaster and not me." What more could be done at this point? Little, he feared. "Other than that... ear to ground, eye open- and one in the back of your head, is all I suggest."

Snape looked down at one of the volumes that rustled as a slight draft wafted through the room, making the candles flicker a bit. At length he replied, sounding mournful, but resigned; Some things just happen. And the world has a funny way of not wanting me to be happy... But that was quite enough self-pity for one day. For one lifetime, really. Not that it would help. You just have to take what you are given, and work for the rest.

Jack looked up at him again, sadness in his eyes for the both of them. Behind that was an anger at the rest of th word for making them, everyone so miserable. "Aye Sir," he said in a soft voice, defeated. With a slow movement, and his head hung down, he left the office and made his way back to Slytherin House and piles of homework to do before dinner and bedtime. He would think, and plot, oh yes, just like Snape. He would lose himself in his work."

2002-11-06 20:22:00,
OWL POST to Harry Potter

Dear Harry,

Sorry for not writing in so long. I haven't heard from you either, so I am guessing no news is good news? 

I am doing well, still nearby. I heard you took care of that Grim boy, that was very nice of you. Your father would have been so proud of you, I know I am. You are a noble and loyal young man. I wish, and hope that maybe someday I have a child as special as you. 

Ahh.. but listen to me. I am losing my mind a bit again. How are your friends? How are you? Please know you can talk to me when ever you need to. Just send me an owl. I still can't reaclly see you in person, but please know that I am close enough to help out in an emergency.

Be well Harry, and give Professor Lupin a hug for me. 

Fondly, 

Sirius

2002-11-06 21:30:00,
OWL POST to Remus Lupin,

My dear Mooney,

I was so cheered to get such a long note from you, then saddened at the loneliness and pain you are going through. I will try to address each, but please forgive me if I neglect something, my mind is still quite scattered, well, as much as when we were young anyway.... 

Let me start with me. You recall that Albus had me and Snape working together to bring down Voldemort and the Death Eaters? That is what I am doing Remus. Covert stuff, infiltration, spying, information gathering. Snape is under DEEP cover, posing as a Death Eater. 

For God's sake Remus, keep this to yourself, lives are at stake... 

About the Grim boy. Yes, odd name on him, I agree. From what little I hear of him, and his 'antics' he sounds a great deal like a combination of all three of us in school. As far as I am concerned, there were Three Marauders, and a tag along. Don't you agree? I suppose that could be why you are drawn to him. You see the past in the future, and want to walk along with him on that path again 

Am I getting too philosophical for you Mooney? I guess because I have had so much time then, and now to think, I over think things. I am doing my best to find a way that we can meet, but I can only wonder if the obstacles in our way; were they put there for a reason perhaps?

I will always answer your owls as long as you answer mine. Perhaps this is best for us, for now. I haven't changed Remus. I am still the loose and fancy free boy I was in Hogwarts, and my lack of control never waned. When I escaped Azkaban, then was with you... then with others... I can't stop. It's a compulsion I suppose. Does that mean I am 'indulging' now? I won't insult your intelligence by denying I am. The wicked always find a way to continue their vices, don't we? 

I am sorry, this was to be about you, not me. Maybe you should just avoid this boy if he stirs such carnal desires in you. So many people think you a monster already, (those that do not TRULY know you like I do) they would crucify you in Hogsmeade if you were to lay a hand on a student in an improper way Remus. I wouldn't put it past Snape to build the cross and nail you to it. Grim is in his house is he not?

This is even more reason to cut him a wide path. It could be a trap. If he is not a trap intentionally, he could very well be used as such. Merlin's beard! When did I become so cynical? 

I should stop now Remus, or I shall rend this to bits and you will have no word from me. It's my mood. Currently darker than the usual dark moods I dwell in. 

Talk to me more my dear Mooney, I will always listen. 

Fondly, 

Sirius

2002-11-07 12:40:00,
OWL Post to Harry Potter,

Harry!

You kissed Ron???? I am shocked. I never would have expected that from you of all people. I mean. Well. I suppose you know what is best for you. 

I am sorry to hear you are now not speaking with your close friends. I wish there was something I could do to help you win this situation. I suppose I can continue to just listen and offere advice if you want it. 

As for what I am doing. Well, you recall how at the end of last term Albus sent me and Professor Snape on s ome "errands"? Well, it pertains to that. We are both working to gather information on Voldemort and his followers. I cannot say anymore, and I know you can be trusted to keep this to yourself alone. 

Has he asked you to do anything regarding this Harry? If he does, I would ask that you keep me informed. As you guardian, I think I have the right to know. Well, I must get moving again. Take care of yourself. I shall write again soon.

Sirius

2002-11-07 12:55:00,
Writer's Cramp,

It seems I don't do much more than write, both to Harry and Remus lately. That is fine. It keeps my wicked mind off what I would prefer to be doing, and in whose company. I suppose I can't fault him for not thinking of such frivolous pleasures when our lives are hanging in the balance of being able to appease or destroy Voldemort. 

Remus' letters are starting to get to me. The last one had me in tears fully. He is courting me with words and I know if he were to touch me, I would melt and confess all my sins to him. 

But I can't. I have told him to avoid the Grim boy. Me. The tension when we are in the same breathing space is electric, and soon, one of us will snap. I will either touch him, or he will lose control and touch the "student" and he would hate himself to the point of self-destruction if he did.

I truly am a man with no morals. I belong to another, once again. But this time I am owned with a ring for all to see around my neck, even if they do not understand what they see. I am HIS, yet my mind and desires wander. History repeating itself. Did I not have a ring from Remus once before? 

No. I shall not stray again. A funny choice of words from a man that spends part of his life as a canine. I will not yield to that temptation. I will use the thin disguise of Jack Grim's skin to keep from from Remus. It would cost me my heart to betray Severus, and Remus his soul. 

Not again. Damn. Lunch is over. 

As ever.

2002-11-08 21:32:00,
A visit to the Bakery....

An IC RP with Jack Grim and Snape.

Jack leaned back in the wooden chair in which he had been sitting for hours now. He was alone of course, the only student allowed in the restricted section. There were piles of books surrounding him, and with a sigh of defeat, he folded his arms and laid his head upon them. "I don't even know what the bloody Hell I am looking for!" he wailed to no one in particular.

Snape had been working for too long. You learned your limits, after a time, and knew when tiredom and irritability would mean that working further was more harm than good. With difficulty, it was learned. He shut the book with a sigh, covered by the pages whispering through the air. Some progress. Some. He had to be content with that, and see if anyone else had come up with anything... Now that he wasn't the only one working. Albus, he knew, would tell him. Leaning back, he sent out, mentally, tentatively, but with no preamble; Any progress?

Jack was nearly asleep when the summons came to him, startling him and causing him to sit bolt upright and mutter some nonsense aloud. He blinked, then oriented himself, and sulkily replied. Not much Master. I am reasearching the History of the Ouroboros, it's uses and the powers ones of the past have been instilled with. Nothing helpful that I see as yet. He said silently, then got up from the chair with a moan, and stretched out. Great. Now he had to pee.

He knew that already. If there had been any good news, he would have been told without prompting. Or he hoped. The lack of enthusiasm, the apathy he could detect... old friends. Unwelcome acquaintances. That was to be expected. Unfortunately there are no books on 'How to Take Over the World' or 'How to Save the World'... a deficiency I shall me sure to point out next time we have a meeting... Snape glanced at the clock, restless. 

Jack looked at the pile of books before him, and let his vision go unfocused as if that would provide a moment of clarity. Nothing came of course. With a sigh, he gathered up the books and put them all back on the shelves in their proper places. He paused as his stomach growled. He had eaten dinner, but that usually never held off the hunger until breakfast. He would nick something from the kitchens on the way back to the Dorms he decided. Once the books were all stowed back and Madame Pince had inspected and approved of his work, he gathered up his book bag, and yawning left the section. Just at eye level, he passed by a book that quite possibly could have the clue, but for now, it would have to await his notice. I am turning in Master, I can't think anymore. Shall I nick something from the Kitchens for you as well? he offered. 

Books were returned to neat piles, put away, safe. His own notes, too, stuffed inside his journal, closed, put in a hiddern drawer of his desk. He didn't feel much like writing now. He thought a moment; was he hungry? Not particularly. No more so than most nights. Which was why he contantly had to force himself to eat, or others interceded. I think I need my appetite whetting, he admitted, with only the vestiges of a smirk. Or I tend to get distracted... 

Jack smiled wryly at that, and nodding and sending a silent acknowledgement, swept from the library with a quick step, and first to the kitchens, then to Snape's Office. He entered the room with a smile on his face and a flourish wave of a hand as he presented a silver tray laden down with lady fingers, strawberry tarts, eclairs, and on and on. He carefully set the tray down, then assumed his 'at-ease' pose, waiting for the cue to do, anything, mouth wet with hunger. 

Simple were Snape's taste for food, for one brought up in so wealthy an environment. He had never really appreciated the aesthetic value of food- which was there merely to keep him upright, when everything else failed. His eyes wandered over the confectionaries uneasily, watching with macabre fascination as a huge dollop of cream dropped from one cake onto the doilie atop the plate. "Don't let anyone convince you you don't have a sweet tooth... or a few dozen..." Snape said, before looking up. 

"No Sir," he grinned, "Nor you...." he smirked, then leaning forward, swiped a finger through a large dollop of the whipped cream oozing forth from an eclair, and then slowly slipped the digit into his mouth, and made a great show of removing the cream from his finger. Coquetish eyes watched Snape from under his long unruly fringe. 

"I have a taste for this?" One thin eyebrow raised in questioning, his eyes never leaving Jack's. "I have been accused of many things, but I fear I have yet to have that charge levelled against me," Snape admitted, thin lips twisting as he bit the bottom lip in thought, before half-pouting. Though that expression did nothing but look rather stupid on the professor's face, and had he seen himself he would no doubt have been very shocked. But he couldn't, and it was something he mimicked from others. Rather fortunate, really.

Jack nodded slowly, then repeated the action, only this time, he leaned forward, and presented the cream dolloped finger to Snape, holding just an inch from his tensed lips. He waited with an impudent smile, and a slightly quickened pulse. 

The smirk was only fleeting, because Snape's lips parted slightly, leaning in to take that finger in his mouth, but keeping it from his tongue, the sides of his mouth a minute, his lips tightening, but his teeth kept back. Snape's tongue, slightly warmer than the rest of him, slowly dragged across the underside of that finger, scraping the cream off. Acquired taste, I see, though I doubt I could eat this in public, Snape thought, before he started swiping his tongue to clean all the cream off diligently slowly. 

Jack closed his eyes, and stiffled a moan as Snape slowly closed his lips around his finger. His breathing quicked even more and he gripped the edge of the desk with his other hand for stability. Perhaps if there were a more private place, you would find the dessert more appealing in a more appropriate dining location.... he said silently because he knew at that moment, he would not be able to speak without his voice cracking. 

Accomodating as the House Elves are, despite my best efforts, I rather think they would take offence to my intrusion, Snape replied, one hand moving to grip Jack's elbow as he tilted his head slightly to one side, sucking slowly, steadily, even though Jack's finger was already far from covered. He was feeling decidedly annoying, and obstinate. Even for him. Where would Sir, our evident gourmand, suggest? he asked in the tone of a waiter, or maitre d'.

A light sweat ws now forming in the center of Jack's back, and he moaned softly as the digit fellatio continued. He kept his eyes closed, and licked at lips that were suddenly too dry, too wanting. A... proper dining place... Yes.... his mind said slowly, Someplace.... flat. Yes, we need a flat surface with enough room for the feast, he said silently, then sighed aloud.

The desk was between them, regrettably, but it seemed to rather fit the stated requirements rather adequately. Eyes closed, he pushed a pile of notes to the edge, where they toppled a moment, before falling to the floor in a disorganised mess, leaving the plate alone. The other side a second later, but Snape had the presence of mind to halt the inkwell before it smashed, picking it up brusquely and placing it blindly behind him on the chair as he stood up, stopping his oral attentions only long enough to nip at the fingertip. Cleared. I assume the place setting follows? I am afraid I am wanting a tablecloth... Scrupulous to a fault.

Jack smiled at Snape's finger and then nodded at the request. Yes Master, I shall provide the table cloth and the place setting, he replied, then with a reluctant pull, recovered his finger, and then slowly turning his back to Snape, unclasped his cloak and slipped it from his shoulders. With a flourish like a Toreador, he flipped the cloak around himself, held it at his waist for just a beat, then bending over, spread it out upon the large desktop. He smoothed it out with his hands, then looked up at Snape for his reaction. Suitable? he inquired. 

Well at least there are no flowers... Snape mused, braced on the balls of his feet, leaning forwards against the desk to take his weight. Knees bent ever so slightly, he rocked forwards and back, head tilted to one side as if in appraisal. Two fingers rested on the platter, twirling it half-way, then back. His lips slightly parted, he said aloud, voice gruff, before looking up, "Well then, what is the first course?" 

Jack's eyes slowly rose up to meet Snape's, and his mouth curled up at the corners as he reached a hand out to grip the tray and selected an eclair. He lifted it up and slipped it into his mouth partially. He held it there, then lifted the tray up to Snape, thus clearing the desk save for the cape. His tie was pulled loose, and moved aside, the shirt unbuttoned next, then shrugged away. He left the tie on, then languidly moved to lay out on the desk on his back. The eclair still held in his teeth. 

The tray was accepted with a casual grace that belied the Potions Master's usually stiff movements, and placed on his chair as well, for lack of anything closer to hand. A quick count let him know just what was there, before he turned back, to face the desk. Would it be a cliche if I said 'Good enough to eat'? Snape mused, resettled himself, and put one hand to the desktop. His eyes flashed to Jack's neckline a minute, assessing, before he put half his weight on one hand, fingers curled up underneath, and took hold of both strands of the tie, just under the knot, in his right hand. He pulled up, slowly, gently, lowering his head to nudge the eclair against Jack's mouth with his nose, before pushing his closed lips against it, tip of his tongue tasting gently. 

Jack felt his head lifted gently by the pull upward of the tie, and then Snape's mouth so close to his. Jack bit down on the eclair, then left the remainder held in place by his lips while he slowly and carefully chewed and swallowed his biteful. Your turn for a bite Sir, he sent watching ever so closely. His body was as tense as a string on a guitar, waiting for the barriers to be broken, the line to be crossed. 

Thin lips parted again, slowly, and the eclair was pulled slowly, inextricably backwards. Eaten with care, and swallowed exaggeratedly; once gone his lips were pressed against Jack's unmoving, resisting the temptation to lick the last traces of cream, amongst other things. Finished, he crowed. 

Jack's mouth remained still, he would be the first to break, though the ache and arousal all over his body was like laying on a bed of razors. You choose the next treat then Master, he replied. I am famished, he added then lifted his hands up and ran the tips of his fingers up his sides, stroking his ribs then folded his hand and laid them under his head as a pillow. He waited. 

Snape deliberately brushed his lips firmly over the others as he tilted his head to one side, concentrating his physical and mental voice on summoning an iced bun, eyes narrowed as he carefully brought it to hover just above Jack's face, lowering it carefully. I don't think that stomach of yours will ever be sated, he pondered, casting a glance downwards.

"No...." he whispered, eyes focused on the bun, so much so he was nearly cross-eyed. He licked his lips then parted them, and lifted his head up to attempt to take a bite from it. Almost there...

Snape took the bun between his own teeth, then, lips curled back from it, tongue pressed to the back of his throat, holding it just out of reach. Then take what you want, he teased, eyes issuing a challenge.

Jack's eyes flickered with a dangerous, animal light, and as his head was lifted, he moved a hand away, and out and down slowly. His eyes never left Snape's as he hand felt along the edge of the desk, then found where Snape's body contacted it. He moved his mouth closer to the bun while his seeking hand slipped into the copious folds of robes, and sought.

Snape held his head still, and the bun too, letting Jack reach for it this time. He was struggling to keep it in his jaws without drooling a little, though, breathing through his nose audibly. He pulled his stomach in as the muscles there clenched involuntarily, and he shifted his own hands in a little closer, one on either side of Jack, just above the hip. He blinked, slowly, lazily, but his gaze never dropped once. 

Jack bit into the bun at last, taking a large chunk into his mouth. Before pulling away, he held onto the bun, and growled softly, tugging on the bun playfully. His hand kept moving, seeking. Ah... Hip, thigh, belt. Down now, lower. 

Snape growled back, but deeper, eyes flashing as he pulled back. Mine, was the half-laugh, and he shook the hair from his eyes where it was obscuring his vision. Knuckles flat to the desk, he slid the fingers of one hand between the fabric of the cloak and Jack's bare back, surprised, as ever, by the heat there. One leg jostled restlessly as he traced the movement of Jack's exploring hand, a muffled, happy grunt issuing forth as he pushed his hips forwards ever so slightly, needily. 

Jack smiled as his hand moved around, then in the folds of fabric, found the object he had been seeking. He gripped hold firmly, yet gently, and caressed, squeezed. When the chilly hand was slipped under his back, he sucked in a surprised breath, but as the touch warmed, siphoning warmth from his body, he let out a long sigh, then made a purring sound in his chest. Did you ever doubt that fact, Master?

Snape automatically stilled, breath stopped a moment as he felt Jack take hold of him- but after a short pause he started to relax somewhat. Not that it adequately described his state right now. He chose not to reply, or think about replying, using just his fingertips to rub over the bones at the base of Jack's spine, his long fingernails lightly scratching skin in the process. With a little difficulty, as he was leaning forwards, he swallowed a small amount of the bun- feeling it stick in his throat, before using his nose to push the rest past Jack's lips. You'll need your strength, was all he thought aloud. 

Jack bit at the bun again, taking a large bite, and smearing more of the icing over his lips and nose. He made no effort to lick it away. He chewed on the pastry, and continued his milking motions slowly with his hand. But, you know the young can survive on less food and rest than their elders... he teased, then sighed happily again. His lower back, right above his tailbone was a sensitive arousal point for him, in either form. 

Ah not so, Snape countered, with rather a glib, smug tone, letting his eyes half-close. You're still growing, your metabolism isn't settled... and you go haring around more than I do. Snape used his tongue, flat, to swipe from one side of Jack's mouth to the other, not cleaning all that effectively, and continuing along the jawline to behind one ear. But I admit man cannot live by bread alone... He was geting frustrated standing, leaning against his desk, but he stayed there, using two fingers to slide down along the curve of spine, pressing firmly, until his fingertips bumped up against waistband. 

Jack purred again, Ahhh... but it is the folly of youth to regularly burn the candle at both ends, only to rise the following morning to do it all again, he sent, punctuating his point with a firm squeeze of his hand, and then an increased pace in his petting motion. When Snape made the comment about bread, he couldn't help but chuckle softly. Since I brought forth this course, perhaps Master would like to set the next? 

That's if they get up in the morning, Snape grumbled. And then they only stay up to indulge in frivolous activities... A nip to one earlobe, and then he was questioned. Rich voice low and almost a feline purr, he replied aloud this time. "Perhaps I could if you weren't all over the dining area. Though it seems such a shame to disrupt the centrepiece..." Shifting his weight to one foot, though, he leaned a shin against the desk's edge, slightly cushioned by the robe there, and put some of his weight on his knee- testing. 

Jack nodded in agreement. I could simply re-arrange the Centerpiece Master, if that would be more pleasing to you, he sent with his trademark smirk on his face, then leaned up, and mimicked Snape's motion of earlier, tracing his tongue across the slash that was Snape's mouth. Bitter lips covered in frosting. Delicious. He gripped his mentor tighter, and pulled slowly, but firmly, drawing him closer. 

Snape followed, content to be led for now, and braced his hands on either side of Jack's head, turning his own slightly to one side. Second leg followed first and he was perched precariously on the edge, effectively straddling Jack, thinking all the while; I'm afraid I'm fresh out of flowers, which we'd only have to find a place for, and although I could charm some papers into those little animal things Filius does so well, I fear it isn't worth the effort... in conclusion, we'll have to find our own entertainment. And decoration. Settled for the minute, he summoned another cake, and squeezed it suggestively, letting the jam dribble across pale chest. Sticky...

Jack smiled triumphantly as Snape joined him on top of the desk, hovering over him. He chuckled at the flowers comment, and then watched Snape's handling of the next pastry with curious eyes. He let out an odd noise of surprise and mild disgust as the jelly was dropped onto his chest. "Damn.... now I need a bath..." he muttered in faux anger as he let go of the bulge in his hand long enough to seek trouser closing, then zipper. 

"Its much too far to walk, and I'm the one who caused the mess," Snape said with an overdone air of concern. "It is only right and fair that I should rectify the matter." Hands on shoulders pushed Jack further along the desk, (which, fortunately enough, was of generous size) the robe bunching up about him a little in the process. His tongue pushed past his teeth again, as it scenting the air, before starting a long, thin trail down, along his bare chest, stopping near bellybutton only when he was sitting so far back on his heels he worried he would fall. Of course, that's assuming I am both right and fair...

Jack watched Snape with an amused expression, then when his tongue was drawn across his chilled and sticky flesh, he shuddered, and let out a long slow moan. You are always right.... Master.... But never play fair... he replied, finding that even mental conversation was difficult now. He paused for just a moment in his manipulation of the closures, then refocused, and slipped a warm hand past waistband, and under siken shorts. Grip, squeeze, stroke, repeat.

Snape wanted little more right now than to lose himself in that rhythm, and any longer and he likely would. Hypnotic. Fair... is foul... he thought, but didn't finish the line, biting down hard under ribs instead. If he didn't distract Jack, this was going to be over too fast. Not that he'd admit that.

Jack cried out, arching his back as the bite. It was hard enough to go beyond ticklish and he could swear it felt like Snape had fangs. "Oh God!" he moaned aloud, and gripped his Master harder in his hand, but stopped stroking. He closed his eyes again, panting. He was just as hard as Snape, and eager for this to go beyond playing with cakes and pastries. 

Snape kept the grip with his teeth, licking at the flesh between, a low, deep growl coming from low in his belly. I think the main course is ready, he thought, even that voice sounding dark, and wanting. I do hope you aren't already too full... Hands moved to hips, slid under thighs, and started lifting them up. 

Jack let a shuddered sigh escape when Snape continued to hold the bite he had on him. He gripped the table with his previously idle hand and his grip slowly began to move up and down again along Snape's shaft. I.... need refilling.... he thought, then a silly addendum, I shall be the eclair, you the Pastry Chef... he mused with a twisted grin. 

No hats though, Snape complained, sounding more and more strained. There was still red, gooey jam over most of Jack's torso, and a quick, open-palmed scoop along one side provided an ample amount. The Potion Master's left hand lost no time in slipping between parted legs, smothering thighs, balls, and arse in a strawberry mess. A gentle squeeze, and one long index finger slowly stroked in, and out. 

Jack managed to laugh, "No Sir, no hats..." he sighed, then let out a gasp as more of the cold jelly was smeared on him, then added to more, delicate areas. "Oh.... yesssss......" he sighed, speech suddenly catching in his throat as he was penetrated and stroked. His breaths became pants, and he stopped all movement except for the arching of his back, and the further parting of his legs for a moment. Dully he recalled the attentions he had been giving, and he ran the ball of his thumb over the slick head he held, smearing around the wetness he found there, then teased at the slit with his thumbnail carefully. 

If they were trying to play one-up, Snape reckoned they were succeeding at this point. He slid a second finger in, curling them inside, determined not to let his breath hitch. "Like... strawberry then?" he asked, impishly. 

Jack nodded quickly, then bit down on his lower lip as another digit was inserted and twisted in just the right fashion to reach the perfect spot. "Oh... yes..." he panted, lifting his hips up now. He was eager, primed, ready. Take your pick. Tell me what your favorite flavor is..... Master... he thought, then snickered again, Then fill me with it.... he thought in a tawdry manner, pressing his thumb down harder as he swirled it around and around on Snape. 

"Making that.... would take too long..." Too breathless for his liking, now. Damn the insufferable little... "I guess we'll have to settle for seconds..." Three, now, roughly, and quicker. He wasn't going to push it too far. No. Judge it just right... I'll just have to taste it later, he threatened, other hand finding Jack's shoulder and holding on tight. 

"Ung!" was the only sound Jack could make as he felt the third digit added, and he was serviced with them in and out quickly with the stickly lubricant. It was not enough thickness to put him in any real discomfort, but pushed him into a higher level of impatience arousal. He hand left the edge of the desk, and wantonly he gripped himself, and began to stroke eagerly, moaning aloud as his other hand did likewise to his Master. "Oh.... God..... God...." he muttered, hips beginning to buck up and down in time to his hand strokes. 

To have come all this way and not even set out what he'd bloody accomplished... Snape tried to pull back from the hand around his cock, hating himself for it, and managed to hiss between gritted teeth, "Wait... wait you've got to..." Eyes closed. Clenched tight shut, so hard that lights flashed behind them. Lip bit down on hard enough to hurt. Don't fall off the edge... literally and metaphorically for once. Choked out, "S-s-stop..." 

Jack hardly noticed when Snape pulled from his grasp. Fine, he could concentrate on... breathing? The Ouroboros has suddenly tensed around his neck, cutting off air, and directing his attentions from self satisfication. When both of Jack's hand flew up to grip at the metal viper, it's grip eased. He panted, and opened his eyes, looking up, confused, at Snape. 

Snape wasn't meeting Jack's gaze right now, catching his breath a moment, and trying to keep his head from swimming. His lungs and his groin were competing to burn the most, and he sucked in a lungfull of chill air, before ceasing his anal attentions, and slipping his slick fingers out. You ssaid you... needed thisss... Snape thought, mentally slurring his sibilants, pausing a moment. 

Jack looked up at Snape, for just a second, a cold jab of fear ran through him. Had he caused the Ouroboros to choke him just then? What about the other night? His head spun for a moment with the thoughts, then he heard the silent comment. He closed his eyes, letting himself forget about such dark thoughts as the hand was slipped from him, and Snape purred in his mind. Yes, Master.... I will wait.... for you.... he replied, sure now why the punishment was sent. 

Good... Slim hands moved to hips, now, lifted gently, held still. A sudden burst of static as he filled his mind with anything but thoughts about now- no matter what those thoughts were, and he pushed himself inside with one slow, measured thrust. The shouting in his head got louder as he sought to hide from tight, sticky warmth. In an odd moment of near-sanity he wondered at how he'd managed to get his prick covered in jam, and laughed. Settling down onto a more even keel, he slowly started to withdraw, tacking Jack's length in his hand and stroking it at the same speed. 

Jack made a soft keening sound in his throat as Snape slowly pushed into him. It was still a tense entry. Note to self, jam not a good lubricant... he thought to himself as he felt the slow entry, then retreat as he was gripped and stroked. "Oh..... Master..." he moaned, then bit down on his lower lip, knowing he should keep quiet as he was taken. He moved his hands to clutch at the sides of the desk, holding on for dear life as Snape set the pace. 

Snape would have laughed but that would have taken too much of his concentration right now, and he needed every last drop. When he was so far out it was unbearable, he started to slide himself in again, a guttural grunt the only noise he made. Slow, but firm, he gradually picked up pace, hand tightening as his arousal started fighting to take all little control he had left. He wasn't aware of where his other hand was, as it grabbed the top of Jack's arm hard enough to make the skin go white, his world currently centred pretty far from his head. 

Jack winced momentarily at the clutching grip on his shoulder, but that was secondary to other sensations his brain was receiving at the moment. His legs he lifted up, one by one placing them over Snape's shoulders to lift himself up higher, and to ease the grinding of his spine into the surface of the desk. They made the angle for Snape all the more accomadating, sending him deeper yet into his student. Jack gasped with each slow push and retreat of the other against him, and closed his eyes again, feeling the hand stroking him now, with more pressure and urgency. Yes, oh.... please..... he sighed mentally, rocking his body with the other. Not long now.... not long at all. 

The change of angle was too much for poor Snape's already fried mind, and he started pushing in harder, shallow movements never really withdrawing much. I... Snape started, but never really finished, as the mental thrum started getting louder, crying out for release. Need... That too was cut off, as his hips slammed in hard, an almost inaudible whine as he came, hands clutching tighter still. 

It was over so quick, for both of them. In one blinding flash of pleasure in both minds, both bodies, it was over. Jack lay panting, his belly and chest a mess of the most unsavory combinations of substances smeared about. He was panting quite quickly, but that would slow soon. He reached up to brush his damp fringe away from his face, and ventured a shy look up at Snape, frozen, and hovering over him, still in him. 

Snape slowly and carefully extricated his long, thin, very messy fingers. Untangled them from Jack, and had the presence of mind to support himself with it. His knees-- no, not just his knees-- he felt weak. Head bowed, his long hair trailing and the ends getting even more greasy than normal. He didn't dare venture thinking anything now, concentrating on stopping his elbow shaking. Christ but he didn't think he'd ever get used to that. 

Jack watched him move away from him, and a sadness fell over him as he saw the body language that spoke volumes to him, so he thought anyway. He thought Snape looked sadder now, more weary than before they had started. Was this killing him and his soul further instead of bringing the release and please he wanted it to? The thought of that overwhelmed him, and he heard the choked back sob in his throat before he realized he had uttered it. Rolling over to the opposite side of the desk, taking the cloak with him to cover himself, he dropped to the floor in a heap, hidden under the cloak. Confused. Afraid. Hating himself. 

Snape was barely able to stay in the position he was in, and he was considering several options, none too appealing. When Jack moved his mind blanked a moment, not really registering or understanding. Wha--? came the half-formed question, as he slunk down and hit the desk with one hip. 

Wrong.... it's all wrong... came the trembling reply. This brings you only more pain, more anguish, I see it in your face.... he said, then pulled the cloak tighter around him, shuddering, but not from the cold. I enjoy it.... so much.. but it hurts you.... to touch me... he said, then went silent.

Fucking stupid little... idiotic god-forsaken bloody-minded oh-for-the-love of-... He really didn't want to have to deal with this now. If anything he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep the deep, post-coital sleep that he felt he'd fucking earned by now... This wasn't the time to be broaching such issues. Really. Why. Why now? he complained, knowing he was sounding just as petulant and childish himself. Why do you have to bring this up now... Not fair not fair. Not fucking fair. The world did hate him. What the hell more do you want from me? he asked. I have nothing more to give...

I want it to be right.... I want you to not worry about me. I want the guilt gone, for you... Just... he stopped there not wanting this right now, like this, anymore than Snape did. He could smell the annoyance he was feeling. The tension in the room, again dangerously palpable.

'Fucking spell it out for me,' Snape growled, but that was only to himself. 'It's obviously like I need you to tell me...' Grow up, he returned, more harshly than he had meant to, got up with difficulty, the tension starting to seep back into his body slowly, and went to his rooms, the doors shutting - not slamming- behind him. 

Jack sat there for a moment or two, he wasn't sure how long, then making a decision, he got up, legs cramping now, and limped part of the way to Snape's door. He didn't knock, he went straight in, and looked around. There was no sign of Snape, but the sound of a bath being run in the other room. Dropping the cloak near the door, Jack followed the sound of running water.

2002-11-09 07:48:00,
Help me I am in Hell....

And I am taking Snape with me, or is he me? Why can't we just get along and have it be fun, no worries, no pain, no anguish, no angst?

Because the world has it in for the both of us. I hear his silent bemoanings, his rails, and mental fist shaking at the world that seems to hate him so much, and me as well. 

Last night, after the initial taking and my mental breakdown, I soothed him with a bath, a massage and my silence. We went to bed, we joined again, softer and silent this time; then slept the sleep of the dead or truly innocent. Before we fell asleep, I almost confessed all to him. 

I am glad I didn't. Firstly, he wouldn't have believed me, then when and if he had, it would have only made things worse. He desires and possesses Jack Grim. While Jack Grim may be an improper partner for him on so many levels, he is still not Sirius Black. 

Could he ever feel for me as myself as he does now? Do I even KNOW what he feels for Jack Grim? Do I even know what I feel for him besides a burning lust and a desire to please him in all things, to not disappoint? 

It never gets any easier. Only more complex. 

Well, I must get to work if I am not to disappoint. I am off to the library and the Restricted Section for more research. 

As ever.

2002-11-09 11:40:00,"
Studying for my life, studying for my grades....

AN IC RP with Jack and Blaise.

After surviving the night before, then an early rise to make it appear he had slept in his own bed again, Jack had returned to the Library and the Restricted section. He was again surrounded by piles of books, and notes on parchment. He paused, sighed, and ran his hand through his fringe, brushing it out of his face for the moment as he continued reading. "Where..... where.... is it...." he hissed to himself, "Where is it?" 

Blaise walked into the library and pulled out a book, some parchment, and some ink and her quill; from her book-bag and set it on the table. And before sitting down she looked up and saw Jack in the restricted section. Blaise walked over to the cage and whispered loud enough so only Jack could hear her, "Jack!" She smiled slightly as she watched and waited for him to respond. 

Even though he was surrounded by books, and flipping studiously through page after page, Jack heard her, and slowly he lifted his head up to peer at her from under his long two-toned bangs. "Yes..... Zabini...?" he said in a low, growly voice, then shook his bangs out of his eyes. "What can I help you with now?" he asked in a slightly impatient tone of voice. 

Blaise glared at him and with a icy cold tone, "Jeez what crawled up you arse and died?" She was soo not in the mood for him to be a complete pompous asre, and if she need to she would tell him he was. Blaise moved a piece of hair behind her ear and looked at Jack, "I was just hoping that you would perhaps, care to join me and perhaps we could study together, our exams are coming up you know. 

Jack sighed, and rolled his eyes at her response. He stared up at the ceiling and muttered silently to himself, then looked back down at her. "I am sorry, Blaise." he said slowly, patiently, although it was a forced calm. "I am doing some research right now, very important research for Professor Snape," he explained. "What are you studying?" he asked sweetly, adding one of his best smiles to boot. 

Blaise was untaken by his smile she refused to let him try and charm his way out of it. It really didn't bother her at all that he was busy with something else. She smirked at him, "Well, if you are too busy perhaps I should let you go then., and why do you care what I am studying if you don't care to study with me?" She looked at him watching his reaction carefully. 

Jack sighed aloud, and slammed the book shut he was reading. "Fine... Give me a minute to clear this up will you?" he sighed, then set about putting the books away back onto the shelves, and gathering up his materials and placing them back into his book bag. He slid the last of the books back onto the shelf, then as he was walking out, one caught his eye, for no particular reason. Jack stopped, and after reading the spine, pulled the book down and began thumbing through the pages with urgency and curiosity. He forgot all about Blaise. 

Blaise shook her head she wasn't going to say anything to him, as much as she wanted to she didn't. She walked over and sat down and started to study alone not really paying much attention to the time as she waited for him. She thumbed through her Medicinal Magic book. She looked up and Noticed Jack reading some book she then glanced back to her own. She wasn't about to go ask him why he wasn't here, she hadn't even notice he hadn't come and it had been at least 30 minutes. 

Suddenly, there was a "thump" on the table next to Blaise, and Jack sat down next to her, grinning wide as he set his chin in his hand and leaned on the table, looking at her. "So Zabini, what are we studying today?" he asked in a low sultry voice. 

Blaise looked up and then look back to her book, "At the moment I am studying my Medical Magic Class, however if you would rather work on some thing else we can do that to... I have my , Advanced Arthmancy, Medicinal Magic, Alchemy, Potions and my DADA books with me. Which would you care to tackle?" Blaise smiled softly at him. She glanced around the library it was practically empty, she didn't really care about them it was her grades to her that mattered not theirs. 

Jack suddenly got a very weary look on his face as she listed off all of the names of the classes she noted she was studying for and he realized that he had been so busy with other matters, he hadn't studied anything by Potions, Dark Magical Objects, and Snape for the last few weeks. He sighed and rolled his eyes, "God, I don't know... pick one, I will most likely be failing everything except potions..." he moaned. 

Blaise gasped, "You kidding me right? Jack you need to study so you don't fail your exams, you don't want to be stuck in your 5th forever and end up like Marcus Flint." Blaise took out a deep breath, "Okay how about Alchemy, it is the hardest of them all, or most thing it is." Blaise opened up her book and moved closer to Jack and smiled. She took a deep breath as she looked at him. 

Jack slowly shook his head. "I don't know where to start there.... I have been doing all the assignments, but..." he paused looking her in the eyes, "It's like I am not retaining it or anything...." he said tapping the side of his head with his fingertip. "I've been....." he paused, and if she looked close enough, she could see the dark circles showing under his eyes, and the weariness in those pale orbs. "Working so hard on something, everything else has sort of fallen to the side," he said in a defeated tone. Sensing how weak he must appear to her, he snorted and looked away. "I dunno Blaise, maybe I am not the best person to be a study buddy with right now..." 

"If I have to beat it into you, you will pass your exams!" Blaise took his hand, "You have had a lot happen this you, Do you honestly think I would let my friend fail?" She smiled faintly and she started to read and explain stuff to him. She showed him how to do the work and showed him simple ways to remember it. 

Jack gave Blaise a warm smile and squeezed her hand as she held his. "You are such a good mate to me Blaise," he said softly, "Why do you put up with me being such an insufferable ass to you?" he asked with a heavy sigh, then looked down at the Alchemy book, and concentrated on reviewing the material with her. 

"Because I know you are just being a insufferable ass, and you perhaps just never really had a girl as a friend and you don't know what to do with that." Blaise smiled softly. She took a deep breath as she went over the material a few More times not paying attention to the time. "Okay Jack do you understand it yet?" She Looked at him hoped he had. 

Jack was giving her the goofiest of smiles when she at last looked back up at him, "You know Zabini, I think you may just have something there..." he said with a smile. "I don't believe I've ever had a girl just as a friend, and not a conquest or play thing...." he said. "I think I rather like having you like that...." 

Blaise laughed, "Should I be flattered or insulted?" She took it as a complement even though he hadn't answered her back yet, "I am glad you like having me like that, now do you understand what I have been trying to explain to you about Alchemy?" Blaise bit her lip and hoped that it had gotten in to his head, cause then she could work on the other stuff with him .

Jack smiled at her. "Yes, I was complimenting you Zabini, I only flatter those whose knickers I want to climb into." he said, then winked at her. "Yes. I daresay this is making more sense to me now. I don't feel as doomed as I did earlier." he said, then closed up his books, "God, look at the time, nearly lunch. Will you join me at the table for lunch Zabini?" he said with a devilish grin, and offered her his arm. 

Blaise smiled, "Is that so, well I am Glad I could be of help for you, perhaps we can work on everything else later. " Blaise smiled as she closed her the book and put it in her book bag. "Join you for lunch? Sure why not." Blaise took his arm and smiled softly."

2002-11-09 21:14:00,
Another Day, another galleon

If only it were that simple. I shared some library time with Blaise this morning. She helped me with Alchemy studies when I was at an impass with my "Other" research. It took her to remind me I have other classes to pass mid-terms for besides Potions...

God, to be so free as to only have to worry about the mundane....

We had lunch together, then I excused myself to continue studying alone. Lots of infomrmation going in, more wicked facts than any human should know, but nothing is forming a plan, solution or salvation for what faces Snape and I.

Are we utterly lost? Damned? God, I don't know. I am going to sneak up to the roof for a quick fag then going to go to bed. I can't think anymore, about anything.

As ever."

2002-11-10 18:40:00,All work and no play.... Makes Jack a sleepy boy....,"An IC RP with Snape, Jack, and Albus.

<lj-cut text="Book, Chapter, Ouroboros...">

Jack went straight from lunch back to the Dungeons on Sunday afternoon, a massive assortment of books in his bag. In a weary daze, he went into the potions Classroom, and looked around. Of course it was empty, and cold. He sneezed when the end of his nose chilled, then moving to set up at a desk near the oft ignored fireplace, he summoned a roaring blaze, and set to work reading and researching once again. He paused after a while, resting his hands over his face as he rubbed at his eyes. "I am going to go blind from all of this reading..." he muttered. 

Snape had just been to see Albus again. Something that was happening more and more these days- or so it seemed to him. Thought it was something he could do without. It always left him even more melancholy and frustrated without ever really knowing why. He met Minerva on the way out, his eyes lower than he would have wished, and pulled himself haughtily up, grumbling internally, before heading back imperiously to his favorite haunt. 

Laying atop Jack's pile of books was the one on Blood Lines and Talismans he had taken from the library before. It was sitting idle while he warmed his feet near the fire, and flipped through a book entirely on Snakes and the uses for their venoms. He made notes on parchment, then after pouring a goblet of pumpkin juice just delivered with a tray of cookies by a house elf, he waved his wand over it, making it a warm mead instead. He sipped at the mead, and sighed, turning another page. Reading, reading, but not sure any of it was staying in his head, or congealing into anything helpful. 

Door opened. Snape walked in. Carried on walking through to his office, not acknowledging Jack even if he saw him. Started rummaging through something noisily, cursing under his breath, and kicking something wooden and heavy-sounding. An exhalation, and he stood up, eyes closed, trying to clear his head. 

Jack looked up of course as Snape steamed through like the Hogwarts Express, and his greeting to him got as far as the opening of his mouth, but no more. He watched him disappear into his office, and with an audible sigh, returned to his reading and note taking. He wasn't going to be the one to attempt contact this time. He would talk to him or acknowledge him in his own due time if he wanted to. He knew he had been seen. 

Nothing in the room. Damn it. Damn him. Damn all of them. Nothing, not a single iota. He was frustrated, and feeling worse than useless, and at a loose end. None of which boded well. His mind raced, trying to latch onto--- something, but that wasn't working. He stopped when he realised he was pacing the room, and stared at the wall accusingly. 

Moments later, he ventured a soft call, despite his vow to not, Would the Ouroboros, could it be considered a Talisman of Blood? he sent as he had now switched to the book he had grabbed on a whim about Talismans. 

Snape had been so focused on his own thoughts that the quiet intrusion startled him, and he didn't understand the words at first- the sounds sliding over him like so much water. His head tilted to one side, and he ran them back, listening to the words this time, and thought. After a moment more he replied... Perhaps... He needed to think more about that. Talismans had never been his strongest point, though he did admire their manufacture in being more refined than a simple swish and flick- he had never really investigated them much. 

I am reading a book on Talismans Master, there is a chapter on ones tied to, and powered by Blood. Pure wizard blood.... he sent, then a moment later, I shall remain out here Sir, I hope you don't mind, it was the only place I could study undisturbed, he added before returning to his reading, sipping, and the occasional bite of a gingersnap. 

Just be sure to clean up after yourself when done, he sent as a curt retort. 

Don't I always? came the insolent reply, Including you? he snarked silently, then went silent again as he read over the chapter slowly and carefully. As he read, the Ouroboros animated and circled his neck slowly, caressing him in a seemingly, affectionate manner. Jack wasn't sure if the object was acting on Snape's impulse or it's own. He reached a hand up to stroke it's blood warmed coils idly as he read on. 

Snape sent a grudging, half-hearted grumble in response, trying to concentrate. He got up, and dragged several old books down from the shelves, sat at his desk, and wrote out a book list which he rolled, and sealed. Sending a letter. he said, by means of explanation, as he headed out and to the owlery. 

Jack looked up as Snape passed by, and kept himself silent on all channels, and went back to his reading. He poured a second goblet of the converted juice, and then gapped and stretched for a moment before shaking the weariness out of his eyes with a toss of his head. The fire and mead were working against his concentration skills, but he pressed on. It was later, when he caught himself gazing out the window at the rain he realized this was going no where fast. 

A few owls later, and carrying an armfull of books, Snape came back, and dropped them on the desk, wincing at the weight of them, his back to Jack. His lips moved silently as he spoke to himself, almost thinking aloud. Finally, he looked appeased, and settled back on his heels more. 

Jack looked over when Snape entered, and sheepishly returned from his post at the window and sat back down at the desk near the fire. He watched him for a long moment, then went back to reading. As if to test a theory, he reached up to his neck, and tried to pull the Ouroboros loose, he did it quickly as if trying to sneak up on it, but it reflexively tightened down. The harder he pulled on it, the harder it constricted until it caused him to choke, and he was forced to let go. 

The sound startled Snape, who jumped like a horse, spooked. He turned to look at Jack, confusion writ large across his features as he tried to figure out exactly what he was up to. "Sure fire way to end up dead," he commented wryly. "Unless that is your intention... in which case, there are faster ways." 

Jack just shook his head, and gave Snape a glare, "Just working on a theorum," he growled, then went back to reading the chapter he had been studying. He would not let himself be baited into an snark fest. He would show him HE could at least be the adult for a change. He reached for his mead again, and took a long drink before munching down three more of the gingersnaps, loudly. 

"There are other ways to study, you know," Snape rumbled, and turned back to his own books this time, making a point of opening out a large scroll on the table, which rolled over the edge of the desk. He looked at it, bit his lip. 

Jack flickered a gaze over at Snape, and then back to his book, he rested his cheek in his hand as he read, and remained silent. Something told him that would be the best thing for them at this point. Nothing would get done if he spoke to him, or went any closer to him. It was bad enough his superior sense of smell was picking up his intoxicating scent from here. 

Pureblood family trees were a complicated matter. Even for members of the highest families, for whom knowing one's pedigree and everyone else's was essential to social interaction- it was very difficult and they often needed 'helpers'. Snape trailed his fingers across the tree, watching as magical indicators lit up and streamed over to more complex parts of the table. This could take forever... 

Jack at last let out a defeated grunt, and shoved the book to the side and leaned his head on his folded arms. "I can't do it anymore..." he moaned into the wood of the desk. "It's all going in, but not staying, or making any sense any longer. I never was good at this studying for days on end..." he muttered, then went silent, remaining hunched over his desk. 

"Go to sleep," Snape said, a little sadly. "You're no use in this state. It just makes it worse." He looked up, and over his shoulder, blinking owlishly. "I can take it from here..." 

Useless, again. he thought to himself, then aloud he said after a beat. "Let me just rest a moment. I'll get back on it..." he said then with a sigh, closed his eyes. He was so comfortable hunched over like that, most wouldn't have been so. He listened to the crack and pop of the fire, felt the warmth of it bathing over him. His body tingled just the right amount from the mead, and soon.... he was asleep. Right where he sat, face down on his arms.

He was going to work them both to death at this rate. Himself, he wasn't too bothered about. He'd regularly done this to himself over the years, but not everyone could work under these conditions, under this stress. It wasn't fair to put it on anyone else anyway, when it was all his fault. Gods. Where had it all gone wrong? Was there a point that he could say 'This is where I screwed up', Time-turn back and undo it all?

He closed his eyes, rubbed his face. Too many mistakes. Too many regrets. Too many things done or not done that should have been. But he would do this right. He would. If it killed him he was going to make something work for once. Maybe it was his last chance. He carried on working, late into the night, and when Jack never woke up, levitated him through and out of the room as he carried on. 

Albus walked into the room, playing with a sherbet lemon drop that had fallen into his beard earlier, desperately fighting his massive locks of silver hair, as it managed to become spectacularly tangled. 

Snape looked up from his work, face blank and void of expression for the moment, looking rather odd for the lack of scowl, grimace, or frown. A slight line creased between his brows as he wondered, watching Albus closely. When he didn't say anything immediately, he asked quietly, "Headmaster?" 

In Snape's office, Jack shifted under the woolen Slytherin Crest blanket that had been draped over him once placed in Snape's large chair to sleep. Warm, comfortable and dreaming of... chasing rabbits through the bracken. 

The elderly wizard looked up, smiling faintly, head tilted slightly to one side. "Good evening, Severus..."

2002-11-11 13:12:00,
Monday

Well, I guess I ended up taking a nap at my post at my desk in the Potions Class, and was woken up quite early this morning by Snape. I was curled up under a blanket in his massive Office Chair, he growled something about having to put me there so I wouldn't drool in my sleep on the precious and defenseless books. 

Sod him 

I staggered back to Slytherin House, and fell into bed for a couple more hours of sleep, then rose with my dorm mates, and went to breakfast, classes, and now lunch. 

I am taking a break from studies today. I have a low grade headache that just will not go away for some reason.

I feel the need to get outside, I think I shall do that after the afternoon classes end. The fall weather is making me restless. 

As ever.

2002-11-11 16:23:00,
OWL POST to Remus Lupin

Remus, I see by the moon chart I have managed to acquire you will be changing next week. Meet me Monday night, the old place you used to stay. I know you know where I mean.

I will be there. Tell no one. 

Sirius

2002-11-12 17:49:00,
Welcome to my second home..

An IC RP with Snape and Jack.

Jack sighed and paused in his reading to rub his eyes with his fingertips, the headache was coming back, and he was starving. He hadn't skipped any meals, as directed, but somehow, he was still always on the verge of hunger. Long hours of reading seemed to worsen. He decided to stand up and stretch, and glanced around the library. Save for a few Ravenclaws, none of which were Cho, he was alone. 

Madam Pince had long ago given up with Severus Snape. Even when he'd been a student, the librarians had eventually acquiesced, more or less, and leave him be. She watched him with resigned suspicion as he entered without an acknowledgement, heading straight for the section, the shelf, indeed the book he thought he needed. Libraries were tidy- when there was no one in them. He liked them. He sensed Jack before he saw him, though he wasn't actively looking for him, he thought. But he never broke pace as he moved to peruse a shelf, passing him, Still at it, Grim? 

Jack retook his seat, and again resumed his reading, even if it was for pantomine only, Yes, Master. Until I am set to another task by you, he replied, sounding and feeling weary, but not complaining about it. There was a pause, then, How are you, Sir? Well I hope. 

Well enough, came the perfunctory reply. And as well as I suppose I shall ever be. Eyes narrowed over a particularly illegible spine. I see you cannot say the same... Damn people why can't they put books back in the right order? Snape moaned as he finally found what he was looking for. Hefted it, and opened the first page, blinking at the dust. With any luck, there won't be much need for me to set anything soon... 

There was a moment of silence as Jack mulled over what Snape had said, digesting it. He resumed his dogged studying, then a moment later. I want to be with you. I don't like sleeping alone. Even if it is just to sleep.... I want that much... he boldy, but quielty declared. He never looked up from his book, and his expression was a calm of concentration. 

Snape surprised himself by the stoic nature he managed to keep up around himself- and by imagining himself sinking his head against the bookshelf, he kept himself from doing it. You were sent to try me, weren't you? he mulled, ruefully, and half to himself. Swallowed. Looked at the book like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

I... We have to ride this out. I don't know anymore. Maybe... maybe we can. That book of yours had a few things in it I need to discuss with Albus, but it seems I may have something to thank my family for after all. A bitter, self-depracating little laugh. Don't stay here too long, it isn't healthy, he instructed as he started leaving himself, this time nodding at Madam Pince to deliberately infuriate her. 

Jack smiled softly at Snape's mild beration, then began to gather up his things, it was nearly meal time, and he expected to make the most of it. The tunnel, half past ten. I will be there... he sent with a smile, and continued to concentrate on his work before him. You can decide whether to open the panel or not. 

The sudden, first thought that came to mind when the tunnel was mentioned didn't have enough time to register before something else- something warmer... older... bigger washed over Snape, and he felt himself relax involuntarily. That was who he was. What was the point in denying, or fighting? Liberating- after a fashion- to not fight against the truth. Don't even think about bringing tourists, though, he shot back. I'm redecorating. 

Jack allowed himself a wider grin at that, and as he finished gathing up his things and replacing all the books to the proper shelves, I wouldn't think of sharing what we have with anyone. I will bring only what is needed... he replied, cheeky to the end, and then left the library for his Dorm, then the Great Hall. 

Which was good because Snape reckoned he was kept on his toes enough already. But instead, he sent a mental list of things that might be needed instead, which took quite a deal of imagination, and several minutes. He paused only to snap at a few students along the way- aloud this time- oblivious to his own hypocrisy, or maybe even amused by it. He had rather a lot of work to do today, but somehow it didn't seem too much. 

Jack chuckled as he made a mental note of the list. Some he would bring, others, no chance in Hell. He made quick work of his trip back to his dorm, then headed with the rest of his house down for eating. "Hey Zabini, got a minute?" he called out as he caught up to her, and received a wary glance in reply.

2002-11-12 19:14:00,
House Elf to CHO CHANG,

Hello Cho,

I can only guess your silence toward me since Halloween means I have done something to insult, or offend you. 

Such was never my intent, nor my desire. If you no longer want to communicate with me, I will understand, but feel a profound sense of loss. 

You may return my Firebolt to me via House Elf if you do not wish to see me in person. 

Again, I am sorry for whatever it was I did. I had a marvelous time on Halloween, I can only hope you did as well. 

Sincerely, 

Jack Grim

2002-11-12 20:30:00,
A night off..

From what? Studying. I can't do it any more. I don't know hw he keeps it up, for years on end. Survival. That is how. His ability to solve this riddle.... or should I say, Riddle, will ensure our survival and hopefully the fall of the Dark One. 

I have done all I can. Provided clues, support, companionship, and hhopefully later tonight, a distraction. 

If sex happens, that is fine, but it's not what I am looking for primarily. I just don't want to be alone. I want another beside me, holding me and sharing the dark, and the fear. 

I won't attempt to start anything, I will follow his lead, and hope we are on the same wavelength in this.

I suppose I should get packing. Now, where did I put that Hand Basket?

As Ever.

2002-11-12 22:52:00,
Tunnel Time,

IC RP with Jack, Snape, and NPC Flitwick.

Jack was in the tunnel a bit early, around 10:15, and the bookbag of items, most of them, that Snape had requested had been appropriated and sat waiting. He was laying on a pair of thick featherbeds, and covered with a Slytherin green woolen blanket. He had a book, and by candle light was reading. He reached into his bookbag, and pulled out a handfull of gingersnaps to nibble on while he waited.

Albus was incredibly thoughtful. Or thoughtless. Or both. Whatever it was- it was studied to perfection. FIlius Flitwick, the annoying Ravenclaw Head of House, had only come to call to discuss some matters that Snape had come across 'in his reasearch for a paper, or so Albus told me' and was being all too obliging. Snape tried not to eye the clock on the wall, impatient to get him out, but maintaining the thinnest veneer of politeness. The all-too-evident hostility was carefully ignored by the other professor, clearly in his element, and all too content to spout over things. Some of which was very useful, Snape had to admit, but he just didn't want to deal with it now.

Beginning to despair, as time ran out, he sent an exasperated message. I hope you've made yourself comfortable. We have visitors.

Jack paused in his reading, and after the inital feeling of shock, and worry, realized he must mean "non murderous" visitors, and not Voldemort. Still his heart was pounding a bit faster, and then disappointment set in. Don't worry, I shan't start without you... he replied cheekily, and resumed his reading. Cookie, turn a page, Cookie, turn a page, yawn.

Snape was on auto-pilot, filing details for later reviewing, too overloaded to examine anything now, and relying instead on his memory for this. At worst, he would ask to borrow Albus' penseive. I hope you're listening to this, he sent, sounding distinctly disinterested. I might set a test. Little amusement there. Under normal circumstances he probably would have loved an intellectual discussion with the learned man. Oh for heaven's sake, Filius, get it over already...

"... so the metal used and the markins would also be of prime significance... is it an object you have access to?"

Snape sat up straighter. "No." Realised he was sounding too defensive. "It was unfortunately lost to my family. As much of the old amulets were." To the Ministry, amongst other things.

"Oh, that's a shame, but still the documented evidence..."

At length, Flitwick took his leave, and thanked Severus for his hospitality. Thought he would never leave...

A quiz? Oh.... that is wholly unfair... He replied. Besides, I am busy reading, studying... I don't allow myself much idle time Master, was his explanation. Then he got the message that Flitwick had left, and he snickered to himself as the image of him having to sit upon a pile of books just to look at Snape if he was sitting in front of Snape's desk. All clear?

Idle hands... are Riddle's plaything. Yes, Snape replied, jotting down a few notes to jog his memory for later, before heading to his door. A wand passed over the expanse of wall, and he finished tidying the things he'd left lying around when he had been interrupted.

Yes, yes.... he nodded, Idle hands can usually be found down my trousers... he said as he snickered, then set the book aside. It was more Muggle reading, a book of horror stories now. He rolled over onto his back and sighed. Then rolling over again, he bunched up the featherbed to make a pillow for his head, then rolled over again. By the third time he had gotten it right, and was comfortable. He sighed, and waited. Nice and warm here....

A snort. Well you aren't locked out, Snape muttered, not wanting... not wanting to go into that tunnel overmuch. To... Why? He felt comfortable there. Warm? I do hope you haven't lit a fire. Heavens knows it isn't ventilated in there. He leaned against the wall, wondering that he was baiting him over a mere few yards. But then, what was life but that? Yards could mean a lot. Though it might serve to fumigate any rodents.

Not locked out? Well of course not. I suppose if you want me to warm your bed in there I can.... but that would be a waste of the little den I have created in here. I even gathered the items you requested... he said in as enticing of a mental tone as he could. Truth be told, he was quite comfortable, and settled in where he was.

Thoroughly exhausted by the day, Snape weighed things up. He could continue to be stubborn and awkward- no surprise there- which would take an awful lot of energy and no doubt get him moe frustrated than he already was. Or, he could acquiesce, and make life easy on himself. Not that he was all that unfamiliar with that option. Life was filled with sacrifices. I don't like the heat, he protested. But if nothing else I suppose I need to collect those things if you went to the trouble of bringing them, he added, sulkily.

The cave is cold, the bed and myself are warm... he specified, then another yawn overtook him. "Bugger but I am tired...." he muttered to himself, and rolled onto his back. He opened his eyes and looked at the candle flickering from where he had attached it in a sconce earlier.

The panel slid open with relative ease, and a silence that Snape found slightly disturbing. Wasn't it supposed to creak, ominously? Somehow, silence was worse. It spoke of care... he was standing clear of the wall now, the muted light behind casting a tall, thin shadow through the passageway. "I assure you, you are not alone in that respect," Snape said, with a slight quirk to his lip. Hands laced behind him, standing as one drilled in parade showing.

Jack felt the change of air in the tunnel, and then Snape's voice follow. He sat up in the camp bed he had prepared and looked at Snape. He smiled warmly, and pointed to the bag. "There is your shopping list. I found most of what you asked for." he said softly, then patted a spot next to him. "I have mead and gingersnaps..." he grinned.

"Always thinking with your stomach," Snape complained, as he walked up, prodded the bed experimentally with his toes, before turning, smoothing his robes beneath him, and sitting carefully- all with orchestrated, deliberate attention. Settled, he looked about for the mead. "I think my liver owes me a drink or two," he decided.

Jack smiled, and leaning forward, past Snape, he pulled the black bag closer and rumaged around in it for a moment. He found the flask, then handed it to Snape. "There you are Sir. The first taste is yours," he smiled then went back to reclining on his side.

Snape took the flask with a slight nod, and he gave it a quick visual once-over before opening it, sniffing it, and taking a measured swig, pausing a moment before swallowing. A quiet grunt, and he offered it back. "Well at least you have some taste, Grim," he said, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand fastidiously.

Jack nodded and smiled, "Thank you Master, I try to be knowledgeable in all things that will please you..." he said then took a long sip of the mead as well. He returned the flask to Snape, then presented him with a tin of Gingersnaps. "They are quite nice," he smiled.

A second, slightly deeper draught, and he looked cautiously into the tin, from a distance, as though frightened they might jump and snap themselves. Biting his lip a little, he shook his head. "Be that as it may, I am afraid I shall have to decline..." His stomach didn't feel all that settled. He passed the flask back again, and leaned back, at an angle, slightly, to rest against the wall, sinking gratefully into it. "It seems some end is in sight, now," he said, as casually as you like.

Jack nodded, then set the tin back into the bag and matched Snape sip for sip on the Mead. He laid down on the featherbeds, and went quiet, watching Snape closely. "An end?" he asked after a fashion. "That would be a great relief," he sighed, then closed his eyes for just a moment.

Snape licked the remnants of the alcohol from his top lip, savouring it a moment longer. It always reminded him of- of days before. "It would," he agreed. More than you can know... "That was what Filius wanted. He has more or less confirmed my sucpicions, and now all that remains to be done is to see how best they can be employed." He arched his back a little, pushing his shoulders back too. Looked over at Jack. "Any way, it won't be a pretty sight."

Jack's eyes were closed, his breathing slow. He nodded drowsily, and licked at his lips before speaking. "Nothing worth having is ever easy, nothing worth keeping... I dunno...." he muttered drowsily. He then forced his eyes open, and as if wanting to prevent falling asleep, sat up an leaned back against the wall of the tunnel next to Snape. When the cold brick contacted him through his shirt, he shivered, and rubbed his hands on his upper arms.

"Mmmm, maybe," Snape rumbled by means of reply, managing to inflect the sound with rather more than he should, by rights, have been able to. Noting Jack shivering, an arm unconsciously slipped out, nudged under his back, and pulled him to lean against him. "Catch your blinding death," he groused, tongue feeling nicely heavy, the words larger, more bulky to pronounce.

Jack leaned over into the embrace, smiling. He reached out for the blanket, and pulled it over his and Snape's lower portions. He sighed and closed his eyes, content, warm, and slightly buzzed. "No, I won't. That would be too easy of a death. You and I both know that Fate wouldn't be so kind to either of us..." he grinned. He then turned his face more towards Snape, smelling the scent from just under his ear.

With his free hand, Snape straightened the blanket, smoothing it down and laying the edges flat. Humming, silently, deep in his throat, he turned his face a little, getting a nosefull of hair. "Fate has a sense of humour, I'll probably end up killed by a..." he paused, trying to think of a suitably ironic death. "...Infected papercut, perhaps." He exhaled, a half-snort. "Or something more ridiculous."

Jack snickered and nuzzled against Snape's neck, rubbing his scent on his cheek, and vice versa. "Ingrown toenail... that goes into gangrene," he laughed, then opening his eyes, reached for the mead again. He took another long sip, then passed it over to Snape again.

A gruff noise, and he rubbed his chin on the top of his head a moment, before taking the flask and a swig as well. "And you... you will be killed by..." Thinking a moment. "Rare tropical sneezing disease."

Jack laughed aloud at that.... Then turned to look over at Snape, "Well that's certainly unkind enough of a thought.," he said, full of bluster and faux annoyance. He then disolved into a fit of drunken giggles, and snuggled down closer to Snape. "I would have guessed syphletic insanity.... or gout from over eating..."

Snape managed a passable version of the infamous Put-Upon-Professor look, and snapped his teeth near an ear. "Your feet were fine last time I looked, but perhaps I better put you on a diet," he threatened. "Bread, water, and the occasional rice-cake."

Jack snorted, then looked over at Snape again, drawing the flask to himself again. "Oh, I see, the Azkaban diet...." he chuckled. Swig, swallow, wipe. "Well, that suits me well enough as long as you provide me with some protein once in a while..." he snarked, then slipped an hand around under the blanket and over the inside of a long thigh to make his point. He gave the thigh a quick pinch with his fingers, then laughed wickedly.

"Not even remotely funny, you wretch," came the complaint, and he bent to bite lightly behind an ear. "That would be assuming I wanted to keep you alive," he added, squeezing his waist with his trapped hand, a little numb and tingling in the finger-tips, but that was no great disadvantage.

Jack made a long slow whining sound as his ear was bit, and felt a charge run through his body. Biting was always a turn-on for him. He felt a sudden flush of heat wash over him, and he shuddered, leaning closer to Snape again. "Oh, you want me alive.... I amuse you. I am a frustrating challenge, and I don't take bucket loads of your shit," he said in an amused tone. Then added a bit more seriously, "You would be tenfold as lonely and as miserable a bastard than you are now without me...."

"Someone has an elevated opinion of themselves," Snape said, smirking and moving his head to nuzzle against the nape of neck. "And I'm not a miserable bastard. Can't you just feel my amazingly sunny disposition?" He slid down the wall a little, under his weight, and Jack's, and the angle he was at, bringing one knee up to a right angle to stop him sliding down too fast. A beat, and he added, "Well, if you think this is bad..." I can do worse.

Jack made more giggling sounds at Snape's litany, and felt himself being moved sideways, downward. "Iss not that I have an elevated opinion of myself. YOU do!" he blurted. "After all.... You collared me," he pointed out. "You must have sensed pureblood or pure breeding in your chosen pet..." he said, then snickered. "As long as you don't try to have me neutered, thingssss will be just fine...." he said, then hiccupped.

"Only so I could keep a closer eye on you," Snape lied, oofing a little as he came to a halt with his face in his chest, voice muffled and nasal as he spoke before shifting to a more comfortable position. "And as for your pedigree... That has yet to be proven." He shifted so his neck wasn't cramped. "What's the 'L'?"

Jack shifted, and shrugged, and moved around until he was laying on his side, Snape behind him. He closed his eyes, feeling his Master's breath in his ear. Laughing, he closed his eyes, and thought. "L? What L?" he muttered after a long fashion. He opened his eyed, confused for a moment. Had he missed something?

"In your name," Snape explained, shuffling up closer behind Jack, draping himself over him. "If nothing else your name gives you away- only an old family could be insane or sadistic enough to saddle you with such a name." Long fingers trailed over his hip in thought.

Jack paused, and tried to think, 'What the Hell IS my middle name?' he thought to himself, and he felt a wave of panic wash over him. So consuming was it, he didn't notice the stroking hand on his hip. Blink, think, had Albus ever TOLD him what it was? Had he ever told him ANYTHING about The Boy He Had Become. He worked his mouth as he thought, and blurted out the first name that came to mind, "Lucian."

Snape muffled quiet laughter in Jack's hair, and he squeezed with his hand. Lucian? God knows he'd seen that name enough recently, scattered through annals, records, family trees... "Only a pureblood family..." he said, almost wistfully. "My Great-Uncle on my mother's side was called that. And in fact, rather a few of my relatives, direct and not."

Jack chuckled, and shuddered with his laughter, "Maybe we are related..." he laughed, then snuggled closer to Snape. "Naw.... I am too handsome to have fallen from the Snape family tree...." he giggled. "That'ssss it, I will bring more comely genes into the breeding pool... Adopt me... and I will give you lovely children...." he laughed, completely hammered now. Irrational.

"Doesn't work like that," Snape said, shaking his head. "That's the whole point- of this too." The Ouroboros slid a slow circuit, under orders. "No pollution, no intrusion, absolute security... And all, in the first place, for inheritance." A dull laugh. "Before it got out of hand. But don't mock my line, if this comes off, you might have a lot to thank them for, ugly though they be." A strange mix of pride and shame always accompanied thoughts of his family.

Jack smiled at that, and laid there, entertaining his favorite fantasy of the last 15 years. Living somewhere, out in the open, free, warm, and loved. A lover to call his own, one that owned him completely, and with a strong enough hand to rein him in as needed. "I never want this to end..." he said softly. "I want to be older, so you can...." he stopped there, shaking his head, suddenly melancholy and that was not where he wanted to be. He wanted to be feeling other things, doing other things. Pressed down, held, never let go.

"Shh, don't think," Snape chided. Slid his arms around him, and pulled back tight. "I'm not going anywhere- except kicking, screaming, and most like as not hexing to high heavens." Closed his eyes. Pressed lips against neck. Why do you think I gave you that collar, after all? He held still, wondering. Jack knew who he was, what he was- hell, he knew when he was born if not what year, which was a damned sight more than even his house mates had known. If he fled... No. He didn't want to think about that, tugging closer. "Besides, who would annoy me then?"

Jack smiled, and slid his tongue out to catch the tear that hand run down his cheek, and alongside his nose. "I never want to leave, I will follow you to the fires of Hell, Master. I..." he paused, changing the words to follow, "I would do that for you." He sighed, then closed his eyes again. I know life will never be fair, but will it ever get easier? he mused silently, then began to drift off to sleep.

Snape swore his heart skipped a beat or two, and wasn't all that sure it was still going. Which would prove a few people right. He wrapped himself tight, twining legs and arms in a mess he was sure to suffer for when he woke, but what the hell. You only lived once. "Hopefully... it will not have to come to that." Could he say the same? There was a reason he was a Slytherin- and to be honest, he'd never really felt the need to exhibit the traits of any other house, feeling rather let off the hook in that respect. That way, he didn't let anyone down. He'd... just have to see... And as for easier? It could do. I live... in hope.

Jack nodded, and sighed, just on the edge of sleep now. He was bone weary and mind numbed. "Good night Master, sleep well," he muttered, then turned his face up to place a light kiss on Snape's cheek, then nuzzled back down into the featherbed, and drifted off.

This place was sothing, to be sure, in more ways than one. Snape mused at the fact he seemed more at home in a desolate, dark tunnel in the middle of a school, rather than the place he had been born and raised. That was huge- and the space here, this, was small. Cosy.

He didn't want much. Not really. Didn't want to take over the world, didn't want to be the most popular person around, was not too worried if some people knew more than him, or looked better than him, or had more money... None of that held much appeal for him.

What he did want, however, was intensely personal, private. Some of it he knew already. Escape from tormentors, real and imagined, except those he suffered willingly. Somewhere he had the choice of entry and departure- his own and other people's- and none foisted on him. That was part of it. Which was why he liked it here.

This is just ours, he thought, not sure if he was heard, and not really caring. It still stood true. No matter what happened before... Snape tried to make as much contact as possible, wanting the warm pressure of another- and someone who wanted him. He didn't sleep a long time, not tired enough for that, and unwilling because then he would miss this to unconscious, unfeeling sleep. Instead, he lay, content. "Good night...my..." Own?"

2002-11-13 07:53:00,
Comfortably numb..

I suppose NUMB is not the word. But comfortable we were. Are. Shall be. Even if I have to kill. We sat in the tunnel last night, drinking, and talking. Souls were bared, and shared, and hopes and dreams expressed.

I was better than any sexual encounter I can recall in recent history. Did I just say that? Oh yes. We held each other close, all through the night, and awoke tangled in each other as well.

It was so comforting. We want this, we will fight for it, and damn those that oppose us, or stand in our way. Do I sound posessive? Damn right I do. Sure, if you had come to me twenty years ago, Hell, even ONE year ago, and told me who and how I would be with now. I would have knocked your block off and called you mad. 

Now, who is the one that is mad? Surely the both of us. But oh... what a way to go.

When I woke, I kissed him, long and slow until he awoke, returned the favor, then sharply bit my lip. He called me a string of playful names, then I rushed off to my dorm, a shower, and the daily routine. I feel refreshed, and at ease, more than I have in so very long. We are tonic for each other, for the poison the world feeds us. 

We will win. We will be triumphant, for everyone and all that we love. I can feel it. 

As ever.

2002-11-13 16:30:00,
Turmoil in the Library...

An IC RP with Cho Chang and Jack Grim.

Cho had never really had a sense of people before; a sense of where they were. She knew where they ought to be, and that was usually how she so clinically decided to find the people she was after; pattern and consistency. For all her friends were nothing if not consistent.

She didn't count Jack Grim as being consistent; but did she count him as a friend in the first place? 

Being unfamiliar with his habits and having no particular connection with him, she had had to guess his location based on what she had seen him doing the most previously. And that was reading. 

When she walked into the place where the most reading at Hogwarts was done she didn't spot him straight away, but after a few carefully quiet moments of looking she recognised him from behind, his back to her, and cautiously strode up to his desk. He seemed quite engaged by whatever he was doing. 

Jack was engrossed, again in a book on Talismans, these were pertaining to Zombie control and Vodoo particularly. He didn't think this would help Snape and himself, but what the heck? As long as he was able to read whatever he wanted to in this section, why not this? He saw the shadow fall across his desk, and for a panicked second, he thought he had been busted. *Slam!* went the boook closed, and he slowly looked up to see who was watching him from so close-by. 

He was relieved that it wasn't Snape, although this WAS in the realm of their problem; and pleased to see Cho Chang standing before him. He smiled warmly at her, but not TOO much so. "Good afternoon Cho. I see you are well." he said softly, then stood and offered he a seat at the table with him, with an indication of his hand. "Will you be staying, or going?" he asked.

She didn't respond verbally and sat down instead. "Hello Jack," she said, keeping her voice even; that was how normal people talked to their friends, wasn't it? They were neither over-joyed nor depressed to be in each other's company again.

It wasn't quite true; Cho usually felt at ease in the presence of her friends. "I'm well, thank you," she allowed herself a small, but friendly smile, "And you?"

Jack nodded at her assesment of herself, then when she inquired about him, he sighed. "Nearly wrung out and teetering on madness." he sighed, waving to a pile of books next to him. "I have been set upon a special task for Professor Snape." he began, "Quite an honor actually, helping him with a project of his, but for the life of me, I cannot locate the information he needs. I just am having no luck at it." he said, then realizing perhaps he should not be spilling all of this out, he quickly changed the subject. "Well, you look at though you survived our 'date' reasonably unscathed," he said with a quick flash of smile again.

"Date," Cho echoed with a raised eyebrow and reached for one of the books he had before him, flipping through it so as to appear that she really was studying.

She didn't really have much to say about their so-called date; except everything. The mention of Professor Snape's name brought to mind the tense moments between the Slytherin common room and the other side of the Potions classroom. She had known that man for six years now, pushed herself to be a good and pleasing student (which proved almost impossible), treated him with respect and never spoke a word against him. But the passage way ... it changed her perception markedly.

Of Jack too.

"Completely," she corrected him,"There were no repercussions for me. I hope it was the same for you; I hadn't seen you around so I thought ... perhaps not."

Jack's hand shot out to stop Cho from taking a book from the stack, and it landed atop her, stopping her from drawing it back. He looked at her, a serious look on his face suddenly. "Can't let you see those love," he said aplogetically. "Restricted Section Stuff, and Madame Pince will have my hide if she sees me letting you have a look. I shouldn't have them out of that area anyway but the damn dust was getting to me." he tried a weak smile as retribution for his obviously rude actions. "As for repurcussions..." he added a beat later, "There were none. No one knows you were there, I was not punished as I thought I would be." he said with an impish smile. "So as they say, no worries."

Cho looked at his hand upon hers but made no attempt to retract it, instead, staring him blankly in the eye, wondering if the look alone was enough to make him move.

"No worries indeed," she mused quietly, her eyes glancing across the books and parchments; what was so special about Jack Grim that made him good enough to assist Professor Snape of all wizards? She ignored the outrageous reasons her own mind was inventing, it couldn't possibly be any of those ...

"I'm sorry I never returned your broomstick before," she said suddenly, as though the thought had just occurred to her, which it had, "I haven't used it since the Match."

Jack kept his hand on hers, a battle of wills to see who would move first. He wouldn't be the one. He could NOT let her draw any of the books he had chosed to her to read. He met her gaze, and held it. His expression was even, unreadable. "You may have your hand back if you like Cho", he said softly, "Just as you may continue to use my Firebolt, even for practices and games if you desire. I am not needing it at the moment." he said, keeping his eyes locked with hers. Waiting.

She tried to move without shifting her hand too much, and leant forward slightly, still holding his gaze, "Thank you."

A nagging voice in her head told her that if Madam Pince spotted them there, like that, they would both be ejected immediately; another voice still told her that it would be all over the school if anyone noticed such a thing happening.

I don't care, she told herself defiantly and then pulled back again, leaving her hand to be trapped beneath his. What did it matter? All this was just an illusion anyway, it didn't make sense and it was barely real. In which case, she'd wait for him to move first.

Jack watched her expression, and saw she wasn't moving. Fine, he would up the ante. "Oh, Madame Pince.." he called out. Not really loud, but loud enough to carry. He remained just as cool looking, still looking in her eyes directly, not looking around to see if Madame Pince was approaching.

At that she tensed up immediately, cursing herself inwardly for doing such a thing since he'd be able to feel it. If she looked away then he would win - and she was tired of him winning, it felt like he did all the time.

You sound like a child, a reproachful voice whispered from somewhere in her mind. So what if she did? She was a child, all her actions leading up to this point certainly seemed to indicate that. In any event, she wasn't the one who was trying to do something important; if she lost face at being so compromised, which was possible, it probably wouldn't matter in the long run anyway.

So she continued to stare, unable to think of anything else that might make him move at all.

Jack felt her hand tense, but she heald her ground. He admired that, and now it was up to him to make her pull away, or look away. The calling for the librarian didn't work, so he would have to escalate this a level, or two. He leaned over closer to her, his lips moving closer and closer to hers. His eyes were still locked with hers and closer and closer he got, until when his lips were just about to touch hers. He flicked out his tongue, and licked the end of her nose. Just once. But it would most likely be enough.

Cho felt an unnatural jolt run through her at this touch, quite different from the feel of his hand on top of hers. She had to fight the involuntarily lurch forward that would have been her first response to such a thing; she had to be disciplined.

She did allow her eyelashes to flutter though, he was too close for her to stare so directly at him without needing to re-focus; but still she looked.

Cho wondered why things always had to get to a point like this, always in a place where they could be seen. It was a comforting and annoying thought at the same time. Did she want to lower herself to Jack's tactics?

Reaching her free hand beneath the table and placing it upon the fifth year's leg, she allowed her fingers to trail slowly upwards. It looked like she was willing to take any measures necessary ...

Jack's grin widened as his confusion grew. Was she made of stronger stuff than he had thought? Perhaps. He was just considering what to do next when he felt her hand on his thigh, moving up higher. He slowly cocked an eyebrow at her, watching and waiting again. "Why Miss Chang.... I had no idea you had been taking pointers from Fellatia on how to get a man's attention..." he said in a low, growly voice.

"This isn't what I do to get a man's attention." she said softly, not attempting to beguile him, just trying to be convincing in this strange guise.

She wondered how much longer he'd hold out, or how further she would go before it was too much; everything was too much all the time though, surely another inch wouldn't hurt? She stifled an amused grin at her own vagueness and allowed herself that inch, and then another, and another. He'd give up soon enough, wouldn't he?

Jack watched her, his hand still on hers, on the pile of books, and her hand sliding farther and farther up his leg, toward his groin. He would be enjoying this immensely if it were another time, another place, if she wasn't the same age he was know, and he wasn't really a much older man in disquise. However, he quelled any desire her touch might be stirring in him by morbid thoughts of all the things in Snape's jars behind his desk. Snape. His crooked grin widened. Dammit.... Not now. He chided himself, then steeled his resolve. He sat there, not making a move to touch her, or to remove his hand covering hers. Instead he used words. "That might work on me Cho, if I liked girls...." he drawled lazily, then actually yawned.

Cho shrugged her shoulders slightly, the words did not seem as shocking as she thought they should have been. "I suppose that might deter me, if I truly liked you," she said, strangely unaffected by his disinterest; was she finally winning? She tilted her head to the side slightly and kept watching him; she was beginning to feel a bit eerie from the expressions she was trying to maintain, like one of those awful porcelain dolls that blinked but never did anything else.

Jack shrugged at that. She wanted to play rough? Fine. He worked on a proper retort to that comment, and had it on his lips when he thought about it. He didn't want to hurt her, hurt her feelings. This was not the time, nor the person for this sort of mental battle. He would lose her as a friend if he continued he felt, and he didn't want that to happen. He decided to bow out gracefully, and formed her name on his lips, but before he could speak them, someone else did. In a quite shrill, and explosive timbre right near his ear, just out of his field of vision. "CHO CHANG!"

She didn't react straight away at hearing her name; but one thing was very clear, it was over.

Her eyes lingered on Jack as she pulled both of her hands back; she didn't try to read his expression, what would she accomplish by doing that? She never seemed to pick up on the things he was really thinking.

Turning her head slowly she looked to the witch who had called her name, Mandy Brocklehurst. Cho smiled at the fifth year Ravenclaw, it wasn't a sincere smile, but she'd wore it often enough for most people to think it was, &quot;hello Mandy.&quot; She hoped her voice had more of an inflection though; she really didn't want to be talking to Mandy just then.

Jack let an audible chuckle escape once the shock of sudden voice in his ear cleared and he knew it wasn't Madame Pince. While Cho turned to talk to her friend, Jack rose, and with a graceful series of swoops, claimed all of the forbidden books from the table, and stode back into the Restricted Section, replacing them on the shelves, in place one by one. He kept his back to Cho and her housemate, but his ears open. His smile was painful it was so wide. He had won, again, and there was not blood on his hands, nor anything on hers.... Perfect.

While Cho half-listened to Mandy ramble on about something she was sure she should have cared about, she watched Jack swagger away, as though he had got something over her. Again. She frowned slightly and conceded that a timely interruption seemed to have given it to him.

Perhaps if she had been paying attention she would have noted the questioning glances Mandy was giving her. When she finally did look back and caught the end of one of those looks her eyes narrowed; what had she seen? If she had seen anything at all it certainly wasn't going to go unreported.

But Cho was not going to help her prevail with gossip, and after giving a short reply to Mandy's last question she gave her a pointed look that insisted she leave; it wasn't subtle, Cho didn't care. And after Mandy flounced away, she even felt pleased at how that had gone.

Jack returned to the table once all of the clandestine books had been put away, and coincidently, Cho's housemate had either been dismissed or run off. He wasn't sure which. He set about to making more notes on his parchment, leaning his cheek in one hand while writing with the other. He hummed softly, not paying attention to Cho at the moment, waiting for her to make the next move.

"I'm not sure I like this game anymore," she said suddenly, a dispassionate tone on her face.

She really wasn't, though there was a certain exhilaration to all these things, the cool glances and the emotionless touching. Cho didn't have to worry about hurting Jack's feelings, he was likely not to care whether she did anything or not; the fact he hardly seemed to be listening to her was an indication of that. Touching him didn't make her feel like a better person ... it kind of made her feel like she imagined everyone else felt.

She wouldn't even try to imagine what Jack felt, she was certain she'd never know; even if she asked, there was no way she could tell if he was being truthful or not.

"I can't let you read those books Cho. I am sorry." was his quiet reply, then he looked over at her, a sad, regretful expression on his face, in his pale eyes. "I know there is so much about me that seems dark, secretive, and ..... wrong. I just want you to know Cho...." he paused, bit his lip, then looked away again, back at his parchment. "I don't know what I want you to know actually." he sighed.

"If you can't say anything,&quot; Cho said the words slowly and carefully, &quot;then you don't really want me to know."

There were a lot of things she wanted to know, but she dreaded the truth so much that she could never ask. The truth would shatter any or all of her illusions, and sometimes it seemed to her that the artificial things were what kept her going; she didn't have many good things in reality to distract her.

"It's not that I don't WANT to tell you Cho. It's just, there are things I cannot tell you." he looked over at her again. "Ask me what you want to know. I will tell you what I can." he said in a low voice. "I will not lie to you, but I may not be able to answer everything." he said, then gave her a soft, patient expression.

Cho smiled slightly, but this time she deliberately allowed a tinge of her sadness to show.

"You can't give part of yourself to me," she shook her head, "You either do it all or you don't; I can't know that you're holding back from me when you're trying to be honest"

If he even told her even one truth it would make all the other things that had ever happened between them disappear; their friendship wouldn't be the same, she would never touch him again after her opened himself up to her. Part of Cho wanted that to come to pass, she wanted to know him properly; but the side of her that was selfishly motivated might not be able to bear it.

Jack looked genuinely wounded by her last words, all or nothing. Why did it always have to be that way? Black or white? Dead or alive? Evil or divine? No middle ground. He was suddenly angry, at her, at himself, at everyone and everything. He was cursed, like Snape, nothing could come easy or without a piece of his soul. He looked away from her again, and folded his hands up in front of him, a defensive posture, secure. "As you wish Cho. I shall share nothing of myself with you." he said as calmly as he could, there was still a tense edge to it. "And I shall expect the same from you."

"It's all either of us have been doing this whole time," she said lightly, "I've never seen you rattled before ..." she paused and tried to choose her words as carefully as possible, it wasn't like her to upset people. "You're free to say whatever you wish and do whatever you will, but neither one of us has ever said anything very ... real. Ever. It sounds real when we say it and I'm sure we both mean well by whatever it is we're trying to get across - and even if we don't mean well, what does it matter? We never take our masks off anyway."

She took a deep breath and looked at his face a moment before continuing - if she stopped, or let him interrupt, she would never say anything else.

"How can you ever believe a thing I say if I've never been telling the truth? You never ask me and I never ask you and all these little games end us up in all sorts of compromising positions."

Masks. Wasn't that ironic? He thought to himself as he looked at her. He stared at her for a long time, then nodded slowly, "You are right I suppose. There is nothing I can tell you about myself that would improve our friendship. What I know, what I am... it would only taint what you are." he said in a dull dead tone. He then slowly rose from the table, and placed a hand on her shoulder, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Goodbye Cho. Be well, be happy if you can. Keep the Firebolt. It was never anything I needed to survive." he said quietly, then grabbing his book bag, he turned and left the library.

Cho frowned and stood up, running after him and earning herself a reprimanding glare from Madam Pince. If she called after her, Cho didn't know; she wasn't stopping.

"Jack!" she called out to him at once, but he didn't stop. Frowning, she continued chasing after him, his long strides getting him away from her very quickly. When she finally caught up he didn't even look at her, and just kept on walking.

Grabbing onto his robes she pulled him back and still he kept going. "Jack," she said angrily, finally standing in front of him. "Don't you dare give up. You can have all the last words that ever were but I will not give up," and she felt her eyes fill with tears, "I don't want your broomstick! I'd give up a thousand of them just to stop you."

Jack finally did stop, once he was blocked by her, and they were outside of the library proper. He looked at her as she ranted at him, and his expression remained the same, sad, defeated. "I haven't given up Cho, but I know what battles I cannot win, and those I should not." he said quietly. There was a definite hitch in his voice, it was tense, choked with emotion of some sort. He sighed, then placed a hand on her shoulder, "There are things I will not give up on Cho. I am not giving up on life, on hope, but there is so much that I do have to surrender. And have." he said pulling his hand back. "But please, keep the broomstick. I will still be as much a friend to you as you wish me to be Cho. It's in your hands."

Taking a deep breath in she bit on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as tears spilled over her cheeks. "Don't be like that," she sniffed and brought her hands up, scrabbling weakly against his chest, "It's not right, it's defeatist; you're giving up and you're not even trying."

Or you don't want to, she whispered inwardly; her throat was beginning to feel sore and her strength was failing her, if he ran again she didn't know if she could catch him. I would catch him, she insisted to herself, I would, and I'd never give up.

"Even if," she said slowly, taking in stuttered breaths, "This is a battle that you should not win, it doesn't mean that you can't." She looked up into his eyes and tried to convey what she meant, though she wasn't quite sure if it herself.

"Jack, I-I-" she couldn't bring herself to say what she wanted, but she hoped he knew.

Jack was shaking his head slowly as she spoke, and looking into her eyes. He was fighting back emotions being stirred by her passionate pleas, and for the moment, holding fast. "I have to walk the path I was set upon Cho. Lives are at stake. Your life, my life, everyone at this school and the whole bloody world is at stake." he said with a tone of urgency, emotion returning to his voice. "I will be your friend, I will be your confident, your protector if need be, but that is all I can be..." he said, watching her closely, then lifting a hand up slowly to gently brush her tears from her cheeks. "Please don't cry.... " he whispered. "I don't want to get my arse kicked by a bunch of nancy boy Ravenclaws..." he said, then laughed quietly. Always humor at the most inappropriate of times. He never changed.

Her tears continued to fall despite his joking tone, and then said in a whispered voice, "I can't help it"

But that was as good as lie, she'd been helping it for the longest time, refusing to show him any of her true faces. The thought of him seeing her like this sent another pain to heart; no one ever saw her at her weakest, she felt so exposed.

Jack looked around the alcove they were standing in, and sure enough, people were watching. As if knowing he had to get her away from prying eyes, he draped his arm around her shoulders, and led her away and down a side hall. "Come with me, let's go some where private." he said, then led her down the halls, twisting this way and that until he steered them into one of Hogwarts many unused chambers.

This one looked like it had been an office at one time, but wasn't in use now. He closed the door behind them, not locking it and turned to face her, reaching out to take her hands in his. "Please. I'm not worth this." he said, then grinned wide, "Really, look how you make my bloody ego react Miss Chang. Is this the result you were hoping for?" he joked, again, feeling so uneasy by her outburst.

"I- I, I didn't know what I hoped for, I don't know, I-" she stammered like the big fool she felt she had become; she felt like she was back in first year. She looked into his amused eyes for a moment and then looked away before mumbling, "You're worth it."

Jack stepped forward, and hugged her tight. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and stroked the flat palm of his hand on her back slowly. "Thank you, thank you for that...." he whispered. "I hope I never cause you to regret saying that Cho. It means so much to me. More than you could ever know..." he sighed as he stood there holding her for as long as she needed.

She tenatively put her arounds arm him, not really quite sure what to do. "I never will," she heard herself promising, "I never have."

Though this was as good a resolution as she could have hoped for, she was still being consumed by overwhelming feelings of ... she had no idea what. No one had held her since Cedric, and for a long time she hoped no one ever would. How could she have come this far with someone she hardly knew? The crushing feeling of not being wanted in return made it all the worse; but that was one thing she would have to keep to herself always.

Jack gave her a squeeze as a reply to her pledge, and kissed her cheek again, gently. "I cannot be all you want or need me to be for you Cho. I.... I belong to another, in so many ways. It wouldn't... work if I didn't." he said, trying to explain without saying why. "Please believe me.... it has nothing to do with who you are, it has to do with me. It's all my fault, for so many things, I am just trying to set them right now." he said feeling the weight of all that settling on his shoulders again. It was so much, too much. He shook his head, as if trying to push that aside for now.

Pulling away, she sniffed again before releasing him completely, though the action almost brought her tears on again."I believe you," she nodded, looking away for a second, but then turning back with a forced smile, "You better get going soon Jack, study and all that; Fifth year's an important one."

She wiped her eyes on the corner of her sleeves and tried to straighten herself up, but she couldn't stop thinking about what he'd just said. "Jack," she said quietly, "Who do you belong to? Do I know them?"

Jack let her pull back from him, and he folded his hands in front of himself, mostly to keep them from shaking as he remained there with her. This was tearing at a part of his soul he didn't know existed. But why? He cleared his throat, it was constricted and tense, keeping him from speaking in his usual devil-may-care tone. He nodded slowly at last, then said quietly, "My life belongs to a Gryffindor, and my heart to a Slytherin. No more can I say, for their safety alone. It is all tied to the defeat of the Dark Lord." he said in an even softer tone, as if he were afraid of being overheard.

Cho's eyes widened in horror at the last thing he said; the wizard who had taken Cedric away from her ... how could it have anything to do with that? How could Jack be involved in something so dangerous?

This time the tears did well up and fall again. "I have to go," she said quickly, shaking her head numerous times in disbelief, "I have to go, I - " and she continued repeating herself as she ran out the door, without looking back.

She couldn't lose another person to the Dark Lord.

Jack watched her go, and only after he was sure she was long gone, did he crumble down in a heap on the floor, sobbing into the folds of his robes."

2002-11-14 07:11:00,
OWL POST to Remus Lupin

Remus,

I am hoping my last owl to you was NOT intercepted. It is not like you, lately, to take so long to reply to me.

Please advise me on your decision.

Sirius

2002-11-14 11:14:00,
HOUSE ELF Note to Cho Chang,

Cho,

Once again I send you running from me in tears or fear. I can't tell you how much this wounds me, how much it hurts me.

You are one of the few people I dare to call a Friend, and I would had to lose that privledge. How are you? I will ask you directly because that is how you seem to like things.

I am well, but confused. I know many are not comfortable with discussing, what I brought up the other day, but for some of us, it is a quest laid upon us.

I did not realize your boyfriend was slain by him. I am so sorry Cho. I will share with you that members of my own family, and my closest of friends were slaughtered by him as well.

This is why I have taken up the mantle to see to his defeat. I hope you understand this, and take to heart that I NEVER would want any harm or fear to come to you through me.

Perhaps we should go back as to what we were before, strangers.

Sincerely,

Jack Grim

2002-11-15 23:20:00,
Do you dream what I dream? Part ONE,

An IC DREAM of Severus Snape NPC'd by Padfoot.

Snape was pushed forward, toward a door, hanging slightly ajar on it's ancient and bent hinges. The light that showed from around the gaps was a flickering red-orange, of course, there would be a fire beyond.

The door was opened before him without a touch or a word spoken, and he was shoved forward again and his anger narrowed eyes took in the scene before him. His heart catching in this throat at the same moment.

Riddle, in his younger, more human-like form was seated in his large chair, akimbo to the fireplace. His side was to it, instead of facing it full one, and there was a large pale form lying on the floor at his feet. Jack.

Snape managed to not show a reaction on his face, or in his posture, but the ache in his heart, and dread in his soul caused bile to rise up in his throat. Jack was laying on his side, his back to Voldemort and his throne. One hand was under his head as if for pillow, the other draped loose over his side, relaxed as if in sleep. Snape's eyes flickered to the hand in view, it was not laying relaxed as if it's owner was merely sleeping, it was clenched rigid in pain, fear? Death?

With a worried gaze he noted that he could not see from this vantage point, the movement up and down of breath, and the orange light of the fire reflected on the too-pale skin of Jack's face and bare torso. His trousers were still on him, and there was not a mark on his flawless form. Snape knew well enough though that the Unforgiveables left no mark of their use.

"Beautiful when he is sleeping, is he not Severus?" The slippery and icy voice came from the shadows of the winged leather chair. "Of course, he is not sleeping now Severus. He's quiet." he said, then a chuckle of icy laughter filled the room. He moved with serpentine grace as he slid the custom made leather shoes from his feet one by one, then place them on Jack's side as if he were an ottoman or a large.... dog. "He is so accomodating, and useful Severus. I can see why you used him like you did." he paused then looked Snape directely in the eyes, "And you DID use him, didn't you? Rutting and buggering him with wicked abandon in the darkness of your rooms, and hidden places of Dumbledore's Safe Little School." he laughed, then before Snape could offer comment or speak, he continued.

"I know you found the tunnel, and like the Heads Of Slytherin House before you, used it as a passage to the tight passages of your impressionable charges. Salazar would be proud of you Severus, if you weren't so damned useless for everything else, for every other task put to you." he spat, the complimentary tone in his voice becoming bitter, venomous. Dangerous.

Severus bit down on his tongue to keep silent. His mind, that he had to keep moving if any victory was to be had here, it he was to leave alive. He managed to tear his gaze away from Jack's too still form, and to the deceptively handsome face of Tom Riddle. Grim! Grim! Move something, breath damn you! Let me know you... that you live... Please. he telgraphed, and waited. Radio silence. He then willed the Ouroboros to move. Nothing.

"But that is neither here nor there now Severus. I shall have what I want. I always get what I want in the end no matter what the cost..." he said, then slid a foot back and forth over the rise of Jack's hip thoughtully. "Mr. Grim here paid the cost, for you and your failure, and for his..." he said in a voice filled with artificial sympathy and a patronizing shake of his head.

"I tried everything in my power to get him to tell me the secrets of the Ouroboros, but nothing seemed to work, " he purred sadly, "I used the Cruciatus on him over and over, and all he could do was call out.... for you..." he said, shooting a chilling, red eyed glare at Snape that tensed his gut to the point of nausea. "I tried Severus, I really did, I didn't WANT to damage your pet permanently, but then it dawn on me. It would never reveal it's secrets until it was free of HIM. And it would never be free of him while he lived...." he said as calmly as if he was narrating a tour. "So, I just helped him along to achieve that last step. Two little words, and he managed to call to his Master a final time before he died." He said, with a bitter accent on the word, "Master".

With a roll of his foot, he pulled Jack onto his back where he lay, unmoving and perfectly still. His long hair covered most of his face, and his calm expression masked the pain and sudden slaying he had faced. "So... now.... getting this should be no problem at all...." he said as he rose from his chair, and reaching down, gripped the Ouroboros in his hand, fearlessly and gave a mighty pull. The charmed object gave a bit of resistance as it was pulled upon, and Jack's upper body rose from the floor a foot or two before the silver serpent slipped free, and his body fell back down with a "thump", stripped, and discarded.

Voldemort stepped away from the body of the fallen boy, admiring the object in his hand, unconcerned with anything else in the room around him. Nagini appeared from the far side of the large chair, and slowly began to circle Jack's form. She hissed, raising her head, looking toward Voldemort, and he answered her in Parseltongue, "Yes, you may have him now..."

For the first time in his life, he was able to understand the exchange of words between Dark Lord and Serpent, and revulsion and outrage overwhelmed his forced stoic silence of grief. "NO!" he bellowed as Nagini circled Jack's still form, and prepared to devour him."

2002-11-15 23:22:00,
Do you Dream What I Dream? Part TWO

An IC RP with Snape and Jack Grim.

Snape was sitting up in his bed, eyes wide and staring into the empty darkness of the night, a silent, anguished cry falling for his lips. It was dark, but his eyes were accustomed to that, and he knew the way about here well enough not to need to see. Not quite conscious yet- or aware of what had happened, or his surroundings, he jumped up quickly, bare feet striking the uncovered stone with a dull noise. He reached for his wand without needing to think- pure habit and unconsciousness driving him, and instinct deep-ingrained.

With an ease that would have been worrying, he found his way to the panel in the wall, opening it with little attention, almost walking through it before it was open, and having at least the presence of mind to cast a diverting spell- which would send all casual eyes sliding off him, and would only not affect those actively looking for him. He didn't falter at the other end of the tunnel, despite never having been there, and opened it thanks to a blast of consecutive spells before he found a key- then lighting the tip of his wand up with a light for his eyes only, he strode out- on silent feet- driven.

Jack was tangled in his blankets and covers of his bed as he fretfully tossed and turned with the nightmare. Sweat covered his brow, and a silent scream caught in his mouth as he fought, screamed, and faced death in his nightmare. He was trapped in the power hold of the magically induced nightmare, unable to wake, to break free or save himself from what he was seeing, feeling.

Though he could see about him, Snape didn't use his eyes to find Jack- he knew where he was. He hadn't been in here himself since the start of the Summer classes, at Albus' insistance (he saw enough of the students as it was, thank you very much) but that was only part of it. He did, however, manage not to crack his shins on anything (sneaking about at night was something learned young that never went away). Shortly he was at Jack's bedside, and wasted no time in scooping him up, smothering his mouth in one hand, and turning with a swoop of fabric back the way he'd come. Not going to kill you, not going to kill you, not letting him.. his mind reeled off, more to himself than Jack at this point.

Jack was shaken quickly from the horror of his dream just as the flash of green light erupted at him from the end of Voldemort's wand, heading for his heart. He shuddered as his mind fought off the feeling of death, and his body reacted to the physical touch and movement. He moaned, then felt a hand over his mouth, eyes shot open, and as he started to fight, the voice slipped into his mind. "Kill me! Kill me?!" was all he heard and he started to struggle, still confined, fortuneatly for Snape in yards of bedding.

The Ouroboros moved, restless, hissing continuously, tongue and tail stirring and shaking in defiance. Snape had to bend over forwards a little, using his chest to restrict movement as best he could, pausing a moment, elbow resting to his hip as he attempted to re-heft the struggling, tangled mess in his arms. Common sense and judgement were slowly seeping back into his mind as some of the terror of the nightmare fled, and the danger of the current situation- as much as that before- were becoming apparent. Oh... shit. Stop fighting, you buffoon! Nobody is killing anyone... Unless Albus found out. Oh... dear. Almost at the door now, leaning his weight against the wall as he freed one hand to open the passage.

Jack recovered enough clarity in his mind to focus, pause, and see who it was who had a hold of him. "Severus." he breathed, then clutched to the larger man and trembled. His struggles ceased and he held onto the form holding him close and taking him.... Where? Where are we going Master? he sent mentally, still keeping his arms wrapped around Snape's neck, clinging close. Is he here?!

Going away, was Snape's first thought, and he didn't censor it, or review it. Once in the tunnel, and with the door closed behind it, he slowly began to relax a little from one anxiety, if not others, but didn't let go his charge. Go where exactly? That thought had been put aside until it was necessary- which he supposed was now. Back to his rooms? What for? They weren't safe. Then where? Would anywhere be safer than here? He isn't here... Snape replied, distractedly, and with a slightly slower step as he tried to decide what the hell he was doing. But he is close... He could feel that, too.

Jack looked around when he felt Snape slow his pace, and his eyes adjusted to the damp darkness around them. "The tunnel..." he whispered then made a motion to get down from Snape's arms. "It's OK... I can stand, Sir." he said in a staccato style of speach. "Please... don't hurt yourself carrying me..." he added, and wiggled a bit more, hoping Snape would stop, in here. "It's OK, he can't touch us in here... I feel it..." he added a moment later, then looked towards Snape's face.

It was rather difficult now- the initial surge of adrenaline dissipating, and taking his resolve with him. He slowed to a halt, slowly loosening his grip, but not bending, and letting Jack find his feet. His head was swimming a bit now, and he felt a little sheepish. "Not yet, maybe..." he said, eyeing the exits left and right carefully, as if afraid someone would charge in after them.

Jack looked as well, sniffing the air, and letting his senses reach out to see what was there, but could not be seen. Fear. He could smell the stench of it on himself and Snape, and the rot and mold of the tunnel surrounding them. Nothing more. He stood up, and placed his hands on Snape's shoulders, waiting for him to look at him again. "It's OK. But you need to tell me what happened?" he whispered, even though no sound would carry from the long tomblike chamber.

"Riddle," Snape replied, simply, looking over one of Jack's shoulders- not wanting to meet his, or anyone's eyes. "He has a... tendancy to... ah, amuse his associates." Dark eyes flashed down a minute, warning against further interrogation on the matter. Snape was not feeling in the mood to talk about it. Stiff, proper, unnatural stance, closed off.

Jack was watching Snape's facial and body language closely. He wasn't going to bring up his dream, but it seems as though they both had had the same experience. I dreamed of him. He tortured me, for the Ouroboros, then.... he killed me. he said silently, disobeying the silent command. He was nothing if a consistant rule breaker. You did too, I can see it in your eyes... he added, then shuddered from being barefoot on the damp stone, and gathered his blanket around him tighter, looping it over his head in a makeshift hood to trap the escaping warmth from his body.

One of his favourite... games, Snape admitted. Quickly after; "Sit down," Snape indicated, pointing to the remains on the floor, as a distraction. Shut up shut up shut up, was the unspoken command, almost-voiced. He turned his back on Jack, facing his rooms, sliding his hands together under the long cuffs of his nightrobe, lacing his fingers tightly.

Jack nodded at the silent reply, then heard the command. Sit. So he sat. He curled up on the featherbeds, pulling another blanket over himself, and looked out from under them at the back of Snape's head. Waiting. The silence felt heavy on him, oppressive, but at the same time, safe. He blinked slowly, then rested his chin on his arm as he watched Snape and waited for him to make a decision on what they should do next. He thought about Albus, but held back on that suggestion.

"It won't be long," Snape said, after a while, but as if he hadn't paused. "It could be any time now, but he does have some sense of patience. Or did. Perhaps... a week at most." His toes curled and uncurled in his shoes, not liking this sitting, waiting, doing nothing, like sitting-ducks. I do not wish to talk... he complained, quietly. It was probably going to get worse, until Voldemort finally called for them, when he thought that it would be a relief to them. Strangely enough.

Jack canted his head to the side, disappointed, and again, feeling useless, pushed aside. The words came to his lips, and silently he said them, testing how it would feel to say it, but he didn't vocalize The Truth. He couldn't. Then don't. he replied in a mental pout. He refrained from sending anything further. He would not cause him MORE strain by... acting his age, and like the spoilt brat he no doubt was perceived to be. Take me to bed and let me comfort you, or I shall return to my room. he said in as neutral silent voice as he could. No hint of cheek or pout, just a mild ultimatum.

Not... safe... Snape groused, skitty, and jumpy. He was this close to pacing the passage, his rooms, the castle- anywhere, just for something vaguely productive to do. Jittery, nervy, he turned, normal stillness gone, one foot tap-tap-tapping the floor in a eerie tartan. You're not going back there, he affirmed.

Jack raised his head at the message sent, and he blinked slowly in confusing. Well, what am I to do? Live in the walls like a bloody ghost? he frowned, then waited. He shook his head a beat later and sighed. I suppose you know best. Command me and I shall obey.

No, but you're not going back there tonight, he sent, snapping. Sighed, heavily. It was Riddle he was angry with. Remember that, Severus. A slight sigh, and he sat down. "I'm hoping you left some of that mead here," he grumbled. "I'm not going to sleep now."

Jack sat up and flipped the blanket over him open, inviting. It's under the blankets.... he replied, then reached for it from the bag of items still residing there, and flipped the cork from it with a move of his thumb. He took the first swig, long and sweet, then waited for Snape to join him before surrendering it over.

Snape sat down, resignedly, back to Jack and the bed at first, before craning around to take the bottle in one hand. Nodded a thanks, poured some down his neck, then handed the flask back, using his other hand to pull back his hair from his face, leaving it there, tangled, for a moment. Under the blankets? Mead should be cold. Other things should be warm, he complained.

Jack laughed softly at that, and took another long drink of the mead before handing it back over to Snape, and then moving to sit up close behind him, his legs bent around and over his, his arms snaked around his waist. He leaned his cheek against the back of the Potion Master's shoulder and just let him feel the warmth from one to another. Bitch, bitch bitch.... he replied, then sighed softly.

Moan, moan, moan, he continued, folding his arms under his ribs and resting them on Jack's. He pressed back, turned his head to one side, eyes squinting to focus in the short distance. Besides, someone's better at bitching than me, he added, squirming to get comfortable.

Jack made a snorting sound and then yawned before reaching for the flask again. "Bastard. You drank the last!" he growled in annoyance, then tossed it aside. He returned his arm to Snape's waist, then added, Just as well, you would get me drunk and bugger me again.... he sent, then let a massive yawn escape. Well, if you decide to have at me, don't wake me up...

"Should have thought to bring more, then," Snape accused back. And I don't need to get you drunk do I... A playful snap, and he rubbed back against him a little. Somewhat sorrowfully, Ah, we're both tired again. I'm sure we're due a holiday. Though the next one is Christmas... Ah well, I suppose you need your beauty sleep. Can't have precious Master Grim being cranky and irritable in the morning, as well as less than his best. He squeezed one hand beneath his, teasingly, and waited until they eased down a little, still both bitching and whining.

Once again, Jack chuckled, sleepily this time, and drug the Potions Master down into the makeshift bed, and settled the covers over the both of them. Tucked in his embrace, he yawned again, burrowing back against him. Remind me to summon some sort of bathroom plumbing if we are going to be making this our regular nesting spot Master. he sent, grinning. Jack yawned again, and soon fell back into an uninterrupted, restful sleep to the mental interior decorating plans of Severus Snape."

2002-11-16 07:35:00,
The Morning after last night.

IC Slash with Snape and Jack.

Jack heard Snape muttering from his side of the bed, and rolled over, spooning himself up behind the larger form. "Hush... Wanna sleep more...."

Snape snorted, put his hand on Jack's hip and rolled back from him a little, voice barely breaking from a morning monotone; "All you ever want to do is eat and sleep."

Jack chuckled softly then crawled partially up onto Snape, and whispered something in his ear he liked to do just as much, punctuating the sentence with a nip of a pale earlobe.

Snape cringed his head into his shoulders, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling. "Yes, and that too. How could I forget?" He turned, and raked his eyes over Jack.

Jack rolled back off of Snape, and kicked the covers off, sprawling out onto his back, sighed and closed his eyes. "I like it best, first thing in the morning, and then again right before sleeping..."

"Huzzah for youth," Snape snarked, with an undertone, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head forwards to watch from under a curtain of hair, resting his weight on hand and arm between them, flat to the bed.

Jack sniffed, "You're not fooling me. You never will. You are as randy and as potent as any buck my age." He paused to yawn, then continued, "I hate having classes after a rut with you. Can't hardly sit for a day," he said lazily, reaching a hand up to brush across his smooth, hairless chest.

"That is no way to speak to your teacher, Grim. You never seem to learn your lesson though..." he watched a minute more, before growling, "I had better teach you the error of your ways, then," rocking back onto his elbow, other hand trailing along Jack's side.

Jack laughed softly, and rolled onto his side, turning his back to Snape is a display of cheeky confidence. "We are NOT in class, Sir...." he drawled, "Unless this is a new addition to the curriculum, "Buggery for the Bitter Old Wizard..."

Snape snorted. "Only a fool does not learn from everything and everyone, Grim," he reached out with one hand, and traced one long, cold finger down along his spine. "But don't worry, the essays are already written."

Jack shuddered at the icy touch, and then laughed again. "I suppose, then, it's time for the practical...." he said lazily, arching his bare back, and then reached a hand back to find Snape's and draw it over his side and down to his groin.

Snape shook his head, and let his hand be guided, waiting till it was released before moving up to his stomach, pushing his thumb across a few times, before slowly sliding his hand down, fingers scratching idly, and palm eventually settling on his cock. "As long as the equipment's ready," he said, with an affectedly bored tone, running fingertips over the insides of Jack's thighs.

Jack made a soft moan as he was touched so delicately, so briefly. "I.... I am always ready with my needed equipment for procedures with my Potions Master..." he breathed in a shudder, and scooted backwards on his side to spoon back against Snape. "How shall we start... Master?" he whispered.

Snape slid one hand under his waist, curling his fingers over the gentle curve of hipbone, tracing the nail of his index finger lightly across the side and ribs uppermost. He leaned his head over Jack's shoulder, breathing onto his cheek, but not touching him, and mused a moment. "I think your lip-service needs some fine-tuning, hm?" He brought his hand up along that side, scraping gently, before trailing the line of jaw down from behind one ear.

Several things happened simultaneously then. Jack closed his eyes and shivered at the light, teasing touches on his neck. Snape's words made him shudder and run his tongue across lips that were suddenly parchment dry, and swallow down from a dry mouth. "Lip.... service sir?" he asked in a whisper as thought of lewd acts flashed in his mind and he pressed his hips forward, pressing his groin and jerking cock into Snape's hand. "I... can put them to satisfactory use as you wish, Sir..."

"No doubt," Snape said, and used his finger to run over those lips, pulling the bottom one down ever so slightly. He let his hand tighten a little around the swollen member, before slackening off and pulling back a little. "But first you have to shut up," he said and pushed two fingers into that mouth, and himself up against Jack's back.

Jack moaned softly as he was pressed against, and those long fingers were slid past his lips. Immediately he began to suckle on them hungrily, desperately. His hands came up to wrap around Snape's slender forearm, holding it still while he moved them in and out of his mouth fellating them skillfully. His tongue lashed along them, running under the edges of the sharp nails, and over and around the length of them.

Snape closed his eyes, and bent his head to push his nose behind Jack's ear, in the short hair there, growling low and possessively. He stroked gently at Jack, slowly along his shaft with just his thumb, fingers reaching down to rub against his balls. He held himself as still as possible against that warm, supple back, difficult as it was.

Jack made little wanton sounds in his throat as he sucked madly on those fingers. He slowly moved his hips front to back, trying to entice more attention from Snape's hand. He sucked on the digits until the skin began to become puckered and wrinkled. Pausing in his sucking, he slowly drew them from his mouth, placing a nip with his front teeth on the tips before speaking. "Sir.... is there anything else.... that requires such servicing?" he whispered in a rush.

The Potions Master snuffled in amusement, lazily circling the head of Jack's cock with that thumb, and deliberately going slowly. He moved his head a little, to whisper in his ear, "What do you think?" before nipping his ear in return, and wrapping his free arm about those shoulders, testing their breadth.

Jack laid there for a long moment longer, then reluctantly pulled from Snape's grips, and shifted his position to rise on his knees next to Snape. He folded his hand in his lap, just above his ridgid cock, and lowered his eyes reverently. "If you will lie on your back Sir...." he whispered.

Snape slackened his arms to let him get up, but not without keeping his fingers on him as long as possible. Smirking, and regarding him from dark eyes under his lashes, he slowly, surely, rolled back over, propped up on one elbow slightly.

Jack did not look up at his Keeper, but went straight to task. Leaning forward, he gripped the rigid manhood in his left hand while the other pressed down on Snape's left thigh for balance as he leaned forward and started with a long tongue stroke from the base of his balls to the tip of the Potion Master's cock. He repeated this three more times before then lowering his mouth down, down over the manhood in his hand, swallowing him down until his nose pressed into the patch of ebony hair at the base.

Snape watched, intent, and supressing a shudder at that too-light touch, before he watched himself dissappear into that clever, wicked, untamed mouth. He let out a low rumble of pleasure, and resisted the urge to grab Jack by the nape of the neck and shove himself deeper inside. "Knew... you were a quick study..."

Jack nodded slowly, and began to move his mouth faster up and down Snape's length, breathing quickly through his nose as he suckled him for all he was worth. As he fell into a rhythm, his hand around the base made tight counter strokes to those his mouth was making, and he took him deeper and deeper into him until the downstrokes where touching head to back of throat. Jack swallowed the excess saliva and precum that filled his mouth, creating a tighter suction on his partner. His own throbbing shaft was just brushing the coverlet of the bed, and he moved his hips slowly up and down, teasing himself.

Snape shot out one hand, and grabbed Jack by one shoulder, curling about the collarbone and holding tight. His breath coming rapidly, he pushed the youth back, and sought out his eyes. His voice was a lesson in control. "Your lips are tainted and foul, Grim..." He paused, drew in a breath. "I can think of a better use for you..."

Jack was lost in his task, overwhelmed with lust, and could only blink, and gape at Snape as he pulled him up from sucking him off. He wiped at the damp corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and watched Snape with wide curious eyes. "Yes.... Sir..." he said, breathing a bit ragged, for a number of reasons. "Tell me what you desire..." he whispered as he lowered his eyelids partially, looking sultry with his damp fringe, and flushed face.

"I want to make sure you damn well pay attention in class," he hissed, with a mocking glint in his eyes. "And if that means you have to suffer through them, then so be it. On your hands and knees, boy," he hissed, enjoying seeing him in such a state, licking his thin lips as he watched him.

Jack lowered his eyes and nodded silently as he turned to the side, showing his right side and flank toward Snape, and assuming the desired position. His hands were clutching the covers of the bed, and he let his head lower down and opening his eyes, he looked along the underside of his belly and to his hardon aiming down toward the bed. He slid his knees far enough apart to admit a body between them, and whispered, "Ready Sir."

"Not nearly enough," Snape corrected, leaned over for his wand, and quickly solved that. He settled between Jack's legs, settled back on his haunches for a minute, just feeling the heat in those thighs where they touched his own. He slid one finger in with no preamble, and let the other hand trail up from one knee to tease at his upper thigh, ignoring his own throbbing cock momentarily.

Jack was enjoying the closeness of the body of the other as he nestled between his thighs, and had just let out a long, contented sigh when he was pentrated with the lubricated digit. "Uh!" he gasped as the surprise more than the size of the insertion shook him to attention. His cock twitched, and slowly dripped in it's eagerness for use, for release. "M.... More..... Sir...." he panted softly, lowering his head again, and breathing through his mouth now.

Snape smirked, and obliged, pushing a second finger in deep as he let his fingers drag up the underside of Jack's cock, ignoring the tightening in his own belly, and slowly massaging his tight passage. "Patience... patience..."

Jack bit down on his lower lip and nodded quickly. He rocked slightly back and forth on his palms and knees as he was probbed again and gently touched. He made little pleading sounds in his throat. Something... just do... something to me... Now, he screamed in his mind, but remained obediantly quiet for the time being.

Snape didn't long delay before applying a third, long finger, carefully stretching him before pulling his hand back, and resting his slick fingers on the curve of one cheek. He gently surrounded Jack's cock in his hand, and slowly, firmly stroking the length, before twisting at the end, and sliding back to the base, all the while positioning himself... then pushing himself inside with one controlled movement, leaning forwards and putting his hands on either side of Jack.

Jack made little soft moans as the third finger was added, then rotated and retrieved. He felt so void and empty once they had been removed, then his cock was gripped and he mewed. He thrust his hips forward, then backward, just in time to receive Snape's cock as it was pushed into him, a thicker object then three spindly fingers to be sure. "Oh God... Master.... It..... hurts....." he shuddered in a shakey breath and his backside reflexively dipped downward in defense against the thick penetration.

"Shhh shhhh..." Snape said, holding himself still, leaning on Jack's back, rubbing his lips over those shoulders. He slid his hand up and down Jack's shaft, in a regular, even pace, waiting till he felt him relax a little again, biting his lip to avoid coming at the tightness about him.

Jack nodded, panting, feeling the ache from his stretching anus radiate down the back of his thighs and down his calves. He flexed his toes, and took in a long breath, held it for a beat then let it out again. He sniffed once, hot tears tracking down his cheeks to his chin, and he concentrated on relaxing, loosening up his body slowly from chest to rump. He said nothing more, but breathed slower, in, out. In, out.

Snape slid one arm over Jack's back, and down his shoulder, curling his palm over the arm as he moved to place it next to Jack's on the bed, wrist to wrist. Snape kept pumping Jack at a steady, even rhythm, pulling out slowly, before sliding back in just as carefully, concentrating on his breathing, and burying himself in to the balls.

Jack's body rocked slightly with the fleshy give and take Snape was giving to him and he moaned with each stroke of his House Head into his body. "Sir.... Oh.... yes...." he vocalized to let his partner know he was pliable enough now for what ever Snape wanted to take from him. "Take.... me..." he sighed breathily.

Snape was pulling back when Jack's words hit him like a sledgehammer in the stomach, and he shoved back in again, hard, angling his thrust as best he could, but wanting nothing other than to claim him, take him, his hand speeding up and squeezing in counterpoint to his faster, needy thrusts. "Mine," he growled, leaning close to his ear, and throat, eyes closing.

Jack let out a strangled choked sob at the hissed word in his ear. "Yes.... yes..." he gulped, tears starting again as he surrendered himself utterly. "Y... yours.... Master...." he moaned, then his hips shuddered as he released himself, and lost himself in the same moment, spurting seed forth over Snape's fist and onto the bed below.

The tight curl wound it way around Snape's guts, dragging him everywhich way as he felt the young body buck beneath him, and clench him tighter. He rested his weight more on his knees, trying to angle himself better as he shoved himself first in, then out, then in again, before he couldn't hold back any longer, driving forwards and off his knees to sprawl over Jack's back, filling him, and lying panting over his sweating back.

Jack was sobbing softly, the larger body working him from above with powerful pistoning strokes. Claiming him yet again, now, here, for ever? Then he felt Snape rise up, and push his deepest into him, then the moan and shudder as he pumped his load into him. Jack let out a soft moan as he then was laid upon and pressed down into the bed, his arms giving out under the weight. He pressed his face into the soft fabric of the bed to muffle his cries. He loved it so. He sobbed each time, but he ached worse when he wasn't being savaged this way, by Snape. He loved the pain, the surrender. "Thank you.... Master." he whispered after turning his head to the side to breathe at last.

Snape lay, smothering the boy, unwilling to move at all, still buried deep inside him, and feeling his warm, damp presence. He shuffled a little, rearranged himself so Jack didn't take all his weight and curled up about him, resting his head on the other's, with the smell of him deep in his nostrils.

Jack continued to make soft, purring noises. He reached a hand back, found Snape's and laced his trembling hand in the larger one, and squeezed hard. "I.... never.... want you to stop.... doing that..." he sighed. "I belong to.... no other...." he said, then closed his eyes and waited for the alarm chimes that would signal the start of reality, when this would have to be put away and forgotten for another agonizing day."

2002-11-16 08:35:00,
OWL POST to Remus Lupin,

Dear Remus,

I am sorry to hear that you were recently ill. I know when I get ill at this stage in my life, for some reason it is harder to recover from it.

I am afraid I cannt see you at this time in my human form, but for the safety of us both, it has to be this way.

Stay well Little Mooney, I shall be seeing you quite soon.

Sirius

2002-11-16 08:45:00,
House Elf Note to Cho Chang,

Hello Cho.

I am not sure where to start, but I am thinking, perhaps I should keep this simple, and short.

I like you. I like you a great deal, and I would so like to keep you as a friend. As I told you before, I cannot be a beau to you for so many reasons, the one easiest said is that I have someone already, and they have me.

As for what I am here to do, and what I may face. I can understand your wanting to put distance between myself and you because of how The Dark Lord has touched and destroyed the lives of your friends in the past.

If you do not want to know me, or get closer to me as a friend because of your fear of loss, I can respect that.

You will always be my friend, and I will always be here should you need to talk, or just go for a midnight stroll and get chased by Potion Masters.

I am in no danger from Professor Snape, he and I work well together, and I am the star student in my House, and am giving Miss Granger a run for Best in my year for Potions, so do not worry about that.

Can I ease any other of your fears? Well, so much for this being short.

Be well Cho, you will always be in my thoughts, and my heart.

Sincerely,

Jack Grim

2002-11-16 16:56:00,
The Waiting is the hardest part,

It is afternoon now. Snape is working on the "Project" and I am sitting at a smaller desk in his rooms reading, and writing this, and just keeping him company while he works.

He is tense, worried, and like me, sure we face probable extinction in under a week. I pray with all that I beleive that this object works, and the dreams prove false prophecy.

Last night, we stayed in the tunnel for the remainder of the night after the nightmares, and in the morning, well, burned off more of that stress induced energy.

Again, sitting is difficult. I asked for a cushion for the stool I am sitting on and he told me "People in Hell want Ice Water too." Fine. When he wasn't looking I transfigured one from once of his workshirts.

Nothing more to do but wait, and hope.

As ever.

2002-11-17 18:45:00,
Hello again Cho...

An IC RP with Cho Chang and Jack Grim.

Cho had been able to straighten herself up and join the other Ravenclaws for dinner in the Great Hall that evening; she had been avoiding going in when the hall was full just in case she spied Jack.

She had sat with her back to the Slytherin table just in case he was there, if he'd received her last note straight away she didn't want to face his immediate reaction.

In and out. The was the plan, she had got in without seeing him, now she just had to make a break and get out before anyone could stop her.

It went surprisingly well until she stepped out of the hall, she didn't notice she had been staring directly at him until it was too late to avoid him.

She affected nonchalance and strode slowly towards him, looking away from his face and then looking back quickly in the hope that he'd stop watching her, she didn't feel like she could read his expression with those eyes set so heavily on her.

"Good evening Cho." he said quietly, not reaching out to touch her, giving her space. "I received your note, but you know that already. It seems there is much you want to know..." he said softly. "We can go talk again if you like. If not, you are of course free to leave and go back to your common room." he said, then moving so he wasn't towering over her, and sat down on the staircase, looking up at her, with a softer look now.

For a moment Cho felt a flutter rise up within her and she tried to ignore the placid look on his face, he seemed so sincere, and it was reaching her in a way that she had to forget about.

"No," she shook her head slowly, trying to keep her voice from cracking,"I don't want to go back there just yet ... come and talk with me for a bit, please."

Jack gave her a smile and then rose to his feet again, "I shall offer you my arm, and you may lead. How does that sound?" he asked her with a mischievous grin, and a shake of his head to clear the hair from his eyes.

She took his arm and turned her face away from him, that smile ... it made her nervous. In a good way though ... or maybe not, she reconsidered, thinking that superficial contact and well-meaning grins would be the death of her sensibilities.

"Where would you like to go?" Cho asked, sweeping a glance across the Entrance Hall, the only two rooms that led off from their was a broom closet and an antechamber. Several staircases went in different directions, including one that led to the Slytherin common room.

They certainly couldn't go there.

Jack paused, he seemed to be thinking of a location, and at last, after checking his watch, thought of one, and led her through the less traveled halls and finally to one of the Herbology Greenhouses. It was warm, and smelled of earthe and fragrant herbs. He light a magical, not burning fire, and cleared a potting bench for her to sit upon. "How's this?" he asked with a smile as he leaned against a row of belladona plants and grinned at her.

"Good."

Cho sat down and paused a whole minute before she said anything again; everything she wanted to say had all seemed so ordered and together when she had thought about it. Even the erratic things she'd put to paper had some sort of common thread ... it was only marginally clearer than the various thoughts that seemed to come upon her when she actually saw him.

Clearing her throat, she decided it was better to let him say what he thought he had to, Cho really wasn't clear on what he wanted to know.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" she asked meekly.

Jack looked at her, and slowly raised his eyebrows, smiling at her. "Volumes...." he smiled, "But I can only give you the Cliff Notes." he said with a sad tone. "Perhaps, it would be easier for you to just ask me what you would like. I can't promise I can answer everything, but I will not lie to you. I hope that will be enough for you. That is all I can give," he said a bit sadly, and folded his arms over his chest, watching her eyes, and face for a reaction.

"I -" she started but then stopped suddenly, allowing all the thoughts to spin at once. About the Dark Lord, about his involvement, what he did with Professor Snape ... his family, his friends, the people he'd lost ... had he come to Hogwarts for that purpose? It struck her once more that it was incredibly unusual for students to simply appear in fifth year ...

And then a quiet hum came across her, it was like a little music box tinkling inside her head, and she knew the tune at once. It had played last year, when she had to dance at the ball ... with Cedric.

That thought overtook her senses and she asked the one thing that she knew Jack would never tell her, "Who do you belong to?"

She had asked the question before and he had declined to answer it; were things so much different from then that he might answer her?

"What is it about them? Why are they better than I am?"

Jack remained still faced, not showing a hint of reaction to her brutally frank and deeply personal question. He was learning well from Snape, his mentor, his Master. He thought carefully about how he would answer. IF he would answer. He knew he had to. She was obviously stuck on this for some reason, and only an answer she deemed plausible would do.

The question again was, just HOW much could he tell her without sealing his and Snape's fate? He took in a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly before speaking. "It is not a matter of them being better than you Cho. It is a matter of sex." he said frankly, and even managed a bored tone.

"He, and it is a HE, is the only one here able to give me what I need, though we shouldn't be doing what we do in the first place. I would never expect you to reveal your lover to m, should you have one, so I know I can count on you to not ask me for his name. He is a Slytherin, older than I am. No more can I say; for while I don't believe YOU would seek to use the information against me, us. I do not want to put you in the position of being used against me." he said, then stopped, waiting for her reaction.

Cho's thoughts flew across the names of every sixth and seventh year Slytherin she knew; she knew themall. She'd known them all for the last six years, even played against many of them. She found herself matching them up against Jack, there were only a handful of "older" Slytherins in the school, just ten of them.

A nagging voice told her that that wasnot in fact the true number - eleven was.

Taking note of his frank demeanour, she affected a cool one of her own.

"You mustn't love him very much, then," she said plainly,"If he's not better than I am ... I thought people who were in love thought the object of said love was better than any other person in this world."

And as she waited for his response, a hard and cold one probably, she began matching herself up against those Slytherins; she was easily better in an academic and Quidditch sense than the majority.

Jack listened to her, and smiled slowly. "I don't recall saying that I loved him, Cho. Loving someone, anyone here, in this time, and this place. It's foolish." he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I am young, impulsive, and quite unstable. Love is for breeders and marriage. I have no time for love while I am here, and I am quite sure he feels the same way. We share each other, and that is that." he said with a lift of his eyebrow, then letting his arms fall down to grip the bench behind him, he shifted his standing position slightly. "Frankly, I am surprised that the extent of your curiousity about me extends only to my sex life." he said with indeed a disappointed tone to his voice.

Cho arched an eyebrow at that disparaging remark, the thing that made any of the Ravenclaws so acutely Ravenclawish was piqued; he'd just insulted her intelligence.

"Love and sex are entirely two different things, Jack," she said in an off-hand manner, though her eyes were slightly narrowed, "I never asked about the latter ... but it's interesting that you chose to mention it."

It wasn't recently, Cho smiled to herself, seeing that anything that might shock her (and that certainly did, though she was determined to not let it show) would deflect her from other questions on the matter.

"You are young, aren't you?" Cho remarked a few moments later, thinking that not many people her age ever took much consideration of the fact; there was something about it with him though ... she frowned slightly when she thought perhaps he didn't have faith in his ability to survive the trials ahead of him.

Jack couldn't help but laugh softly at her last comment. He shook his head, and turning his head to the side, snapped off a piece of one of the wormwood plants and tossed it into his mouth, chewing on the bitter herb for only a moment before spitting it out again. Just enough to get a buzz, then get rid of it before getting poisoned. Once he had done that, he shrugged, "No, I dare not love anyone right now. For a number of reasons. One, I am quite sure HE doesn't want me loving him, and secondly...." he paused, looking off beyond her for a moment, then back to her. "It's not the thing for me to be doing right now. No attachments." he said dully, then a lazy grin crossed his face, and his eyes began to droop slightly like he was suddenly sleepy.

"I'm attached to you," she said suddenly, beyond the point of feeling flushed by saying anything that might sound stupid, it all sounded ridiculous from her now.

Cho shrugged, not looking at his face for a reaction, "It doesn't really matter if you want me to be or not."

It probably did matter, she thought, affected a mental shrug as well. In fact, she was certain it mattered to her a lot ... she tried not to care whether it mattered to him.

The arrangement he had with the one he "belonged" to did not sound quite right; not for him, for all intents and purposes he was tremendously detached, but she had seen him care once before. It couldn't all be a facade.

"It sounds very shallow," Cho said quietly, not thinking that she'd voiced a thought that might not have context with what she previously said.

Jack canted his head to the side, and looked at her for a long moment, processing what she had just said, and that was no small feat considering the narcotic weed running in his blood right then. "You are attached to me?" he asked, incredulous. "Who.... What do you think you are doing? You can't be attached to me Cho. You just.... can't." he said, suddenly feeling at a loss for his arguementative skills. Then he heard the second part of what she had said. "Shallow? Well of course it is!" he smirked, then laughed again, looking around the green house.

Cho turned to face him and gave him a sad look, like some kind of injured creature; she was an injured creature.

"You can't tell me how to feel," she said evenly, and then focused on the last thing he said. "It's shallow then, is it? Is that how you are all the time? Are you shallow with a lot of people?"

She took a deep breath and tried to dissolve the argumentative tone off her voice, waiting for his reponse. Cho frowned when she saw that the colour seemed to be rising in his cheeks a little, like he was hot.

Jack was indeed looking flushed. It could be the heat of the greenhouse when one was used to the cold and dampness of the dungeons, or it could be the Wormwood. Probably a combination of both. "I am not telling you how to feel Cho," he said wearily, and reached up to brush his bangs back out of his eyes. "I am just...." he sighed. "I don't know Cho. A bad influence." he said with a grin. "I don't know how we came to be... like this.." he said taking a step and walking around in the area where she was sitting.

She followed his eyes with her own as he walked around, he was definitely starting to sound a little ... unsettled, like his composure was diminishing.

The way he said he was a bad influence felt like he was trying to influence her badly right now; that grin, it was looking slightly ... sinister. Was she being paranoid? His moods seemed to change so often. "Like what?" she asked, a little pensively, shifting somewhat so that she could continue to watch him as he walked around her.

He walked around for a moment longer before answering her, it took him that long to gather his thoughts. "How we came to be like this..." he said, holding his hands out from his sides in pleading fashion. "With you all mushy and simpering over me and my bad choices in life.... You're becoming like...." he stopped, then balled up his fists, and growled, looking away from her. "Like a concience to me or something. That or some lovestruck fangirl, I can't tell which." he said throwing his hands up in the air at last and storming off a ways down one of the rows of plants, then promptly doubled over, and began to throw up.

Cho jumped up immediately and ran towards him. Bending over beside him she rested a hand on his back, rubbing slowly up and down as he continued to heave.

"Oh Jack," she said in a quiet voice, trying to imitate the soothing one her mother used on her when she was ill.

Up came dinner, and most of his mid-afternoon snack as well, right into one of Professor Sprout's pots. He wasn't aware of her hand on him or her soft voice right away, but after the worst of it was over, he noticed her. He moved away from her, and sat down on the ground. He leaned his head back and brushed his fringe away from his sweaty face. "Oh.... that was not fun...." he muttered, then looked over at her again. "What?" he asked her, his eyes really red now.

She gave him a small smile and came towards him with the hem of her robe in her hand, bending down for a second to wipe his mouth for him; she wondered if he understood that her care was not limited to the things he had said before.

Straightening back up she shook her head in an amused way, hiding the fact that she was actually rather shocked that he had just thrown up in front of her.

"Now isn't the time, go back to your common room," she said plainly, turning her back and leaving the room. And for once, it looked like she'd got the last word.

Jack could only look at her with dull expression and surprise reading in his eyes as she tended to him, then turned and left him sitting there. He watched her go, an amused smile slowly crossing his face. "I am going to drive that poor girl insane..." he mused to himself, and then sat there for a while longer until he felt right enough to wander back to his common room and lay down for a while."

2002-11-17 12:07:00,
Sunday,

The day of rest. For some. Snape is working in his laboratory and I was thinking of going by to see if I could help, but thought better of it. He would either see it as an interruption, or an afront to his skill in such matters. I honestly don't know just HOW much help I have been in this, if at all. I have received no real feedback, no mark or grade.

Except we still are "doing it". I wonder if that is just a symptom of the stress he has been under this past several months? When this is over, if it works, if we somehow slay Voldemort, will it continue?

I have only to reach to my throat and touch the metal serpent there to get my answer when I have such doubts. It will not leave me until I expire. I know that now, even before the damned dream, and I know in my heart, Snape would not ask for it back unless... I betrayed him.

I don't plan to, ever. I have a feeling the Ouroboros would slay me and the other perpetrator if I attempted it. That is how it should be, especially for me. The price of infidelity. Death.

It's time to grow up and embrace the loyal dog type I am. I have found my Master at last, Semper Fidelis.

As ever.

2002-11-17 16:54:00,
Cho

I just received a note from Cho. She's upset, I can tell, by me. Ugh... So much is happening and all at once. I will do my best to see her after dinner. I need to .... I don't know actually.

Time for me is short, I can feel it, something is coming, Snape is not telling me all of what is going on with him, Voldemort, the project.

As ever.

2002-11-17 19:53:00,
Blarg.,

Note to self:

REMEMBER that chewing Wormwood makes you puke!

REMEMBER that, BEFORE chewing on Wormwood in front of silly fangirl Ravenclaws.

Then puking.

As ever.

2002-11-17 22:57:00,
Blood Bond,

An IC RP with Snape and Jack Grim.

It was Sunday evening, and the week was slowly crawling into sight, and everything it brought along with it. Snape was sitting behind his desk, drumming his fingers impatiently, and looking at the book before him. it refused to say anything different from the last twenty times he had read it, however, so he gave in with a sigh. This needed doing some time or other. Grim? he asked, mentally, distractedly, and fiddled with the things on the desktop.

Jack had been laying on his bed, reading as well, but the subject matter was something Snape would have most assuredly frowned upon and punished him for, in one way or another. He looked up reflexively when he heard the summons, and closed what he was reading, as if the Ourorboros could telegraph visual information. He often wondered if it could through those glittering green eyes of its. Yes, Master? came the reply.

What are you doing? he asked, skirting around the issue a moment longer, as if delay made it any better. His voice was... off, slightly, but not by much. he found himself winding his fingers through his own hair, and pulling it to his lips- a gesture he'd tried to drop a long time ago. His hands were very nervous, if nothing else.

Nothing important. he reported. Homework is done, essays written, and I am just being idle. Do you need me for a task Master? he inquired even as he was stowing the book of erotica away under his pillow and sliding down from the bed, and fastening his cloak. He knew he wouldn't be telegraphing to him for idle chat, not with things nearing their ends.

If I am not dragging you away from pressing matters, Snape conceeded, obviously wanting to avoid this, against his better wishes. he started fiddling with the lamp beside him, trimming the wick, and checking the amount of oil in the burner. It could wait...

No, I am coming Master, I shall used the tunnel, no one is in the dorm with me. I shall be there presently. Do I need to bring anything? he asked as he went to the section of the dorm wall and felt around for the stone that would open the hidden tunnel.

Just yourself, and the Ouroboros. I am in my office, he explained, as calmly as he could. His eyes kept moving from one door to the other, and eventually he had to stand up.

Yes, Master. he said in reply, and a moment later, he was through the tunnel, now cleared of the supplies from the previous liasons, and pressing his palm to the symbol at the other end. He slipped out, into Snape's chambers, and paused only for a moment to sniff the myriad of smells in the room before continuing on to Snape's office. He found him standing near his desk, looking tense.

"Good evening, Grim," Snape said, which in itself was slightly unusual. The man usually ignored other people- making a point of it. "Please sit," he said, indicating a chair with the wave of one hand. He didn't sit himself, still standing, but fortunately still.

Jack nodded to Snape, and took the directed seat, Good evening? he thought to himself, this bodes bad. "Good Evening, Sir." he said, then paused, not sure what to say next, or IF he should say anything more until directed to do so. He decided to just sit, and watch Snape for a cue.

"As you may know, as it was you who pointed it out, the Ouroboros is driven by blood." Careful, emotionless, even tones. Fingers trailed the desk top as he carried on, letting the rational part of him take control. The rest could go away. "This is what I was discussing with Filius the other day."

Jack nodded, remaining silent as a shiver ran up his spine. Preternatural instincts were suddenly on alert, but he remained still. His hands however folded together tightly in his lap, and were held there with great effort. "Yes, Sir...." he answered softly.

"And we need all the help we can get," he mused, aloud. Rubbed his thumb over his fingertips, and walked towards where Jack was sitting, short, -- not hesitant, but not forceful-- paces. He tilted his head slightly to one side. Didn't even vocalise the next thought.Do you understand?

Jack watched Snape, then had to crane his neck back to look up at the tall man as he came to stand right next to him. He swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit ill. Yes..... I think I do Master, he said, then blinked slowly, not realizing just how afraid his eyes looked right then. "What do you need me to do?"

"Sit still," Snape suggested, biting his lip then. It had been years since he'd last done this- and that was when the Ouroboros hadn't been bound to anyone- and he had been young. Too young. He still remembered trying desperately not to scream for all he was worth. What would happen if he tried this whilst it was still about Jack's neck? Would it even allow it? Would it make it worse? He hadn't found that out, and he supoosed there was only one way for any scientist to find out the unknown- and do it. He closed his eyes, and held out his hand, wrist upwards, tugging the sleeves back to expose the pale skin of his right arm a little. Muttering something under his breath, he mentally urged the little silver asp on.

Jack held stock still as Snape moved his wrist close to the side of his face, towards the Ouroboros. Was he taking it back? Removing it from him, and breaking the bond between them? His heart caught an off beat in his chest and a knot formed in his stomach. He felt the Ouroboros begin to move, slowly circling his neck until the head of the tiny silver viper was slipping from the warmth of his neck, and onto Snape's wrist. It's miniscule tongue was flicking forth, smelling the air, smelling Snape, then, with a flash of silver and metal fang it struck the pale skin of the potions Master. Jack jumped at the motion, crushing his eyes shut, fearing it was going for him again.

Jack heard the voice in his head, and the voice sounded calm, for the most part. He ventured to open his eyes, and glanced at the Ouroboros. He saw it clamped down onto Snape's wrist, and it was drinking blood from his wrist! "Oh God..." he muttered, unable to look away from the vision before him. A moment passed and he flicked his eyes up to meet Snape's, studying his face. Does it hurt badly? he asked tentatively, knowing well it had to, but Hell, perhaps it would help distract him from the pain if he was being a silly prat.

Highly focussed black eyes watched the serpent at work with a distanced, analytical, intellectual curiosity. The noise distracted him from the self-induced reverie, and he blinked, and looked up, face looking slightly confused a moment. Not if I shut off, it doesn't. Not then, if he didn't drown himself in the sensation, let it course through him... enjoy it. Thin lips curled up in a malicious smile. Merely a little prick. The Ouroboros stopped, then, pulled its fangs out, and ran a forked, metallic tongue over the two puncture marks there, and its little jowls, before slinking backwards. Snape lowered his arm, despite it feeling too light to hold down.

Jack didn't realize he had been holding his breath during the entire exchange until he heard himself suddenly letting it out, and the following lightheadedness. He could feel the Ouroboros making slow circuits of his neck then it paused to flick it's tongue at his right earlobe before laying back down and nipping it's own tail. Jack shook his hair out of his eyes and watched Snape to see what he would do next. "Is... that it?" he asked in a voice that sounded far more trembly than he would have liked.

Snape nodded slightly, the action setting lanky hair falling before his face, which he didn't bother to push back. He let go of the fabric of his sleeve, allowing that to slide down and cover his arm again, putting it self-consciously to his side and slightly behind him. He couldn't hear himself speak- not really. "It is to be hoped. I have done all I can." He seemed to realise he was standing in far too close, and turned, standing back from Jack a little, leaning one leg against his desk, knowing it couldn't be seen for the mass of robes he wore, but not his hand.

Jack watched Snape for a moment before speaking. "So, what happens next?" he asked softly, and unconsciously lifted a hand up to stroke the little metal snake around his neck, and found it still and at rest. He was getting the sense of calm power radiating from it now. Different then before.

"Sit, wait, scream, cry, dance across the table in the Great Hall, burn down the school... what else?" Snape snarked, curling his lip. He resisted the urge to yell 'How in the blazes should I know?'- but only just. He turned back around, staring. "There is nothing more to be read. Or done. There is only so much any one person can do, anyway." And Snape felt he had reached his limit a long time past.

Jack leaned back in his chair, afraid of Snape and his moods for the first time he could ever recall. He could smell more emotions than the Potion's Master was letting on, and it worried him. "I... I should go then Sir, you could use the rest. The peace and quiet and all." he said as he moved to rise from the chair and slip out of there by which ever route would be the quickest.

Oh this was familiar. Things went wrong, Snape got mad. Snape got mad, Snape lashed out. Snape lashed out, people ended up either getting mad at him, or running scared. Simple, easy arithmatic. This plus this equals this. Stir in a few more combustibles and see what colour the bang was. He felt exhausted, and drained. And so close to being defeated it scared the life out of him. "Isn't that what I've been saying all along?" he asked of the world in general, and stormed into his room. Peace, quiet, and seclusion. And still he taught. It didn't add up in the slightest.

Jack turned, and looked over his shoulder at Snape's departing form. He hesitated. "Dammit." he muttered to the now empty room. He stood there for a moment later, waiting for a call, silent or otherwise, knowing it wouldn't come. He could either walk away, and return to his dorm, or follow his Master and try to softly succor him in some way. Tired and weary and still a bit ill from the Wormwood, he chose the former, and silently returned to his room."

2002-11-18 12:48:00,
Today.

Classes. Full Moon, day one. Worrying.

God's, is the day only HALF over yet?

I can hardly wait.

2002-11-19 16:55:00

It's nearly dinner time, but I am not sure I can eat. Tonight I meet with Remus, albeit in the fur, for the safety of both of us, and this ruse I am living.

I wonder how this will go. I know I will be nervous. I am sure he will be too. Perhaps this is the best way for us to reconnect for the first time since...

My infidelity.

Perhaps I am hiding behind my fur. Less temptation to mount him when we are both animals than human. Barely. I am hiding. I AM a coward, and dammit if I dn't miss him so much at times it physically hurts.

I am damned.

2002-11-19 18:59:00,
Of Wolf and Dog,

An IC RP with Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

When Remus received the letter from Sirius, asking him to meet him at the shrieking shack come the full moon, he could hardly contain himself. Although he would have rather met Sirius in human form, he supposed that it would be safer for him that way.

It was sunset, and the moon had not yet risen. Remus had already taken his potion that evening, it having been brought to him by a house elf. He wasn't surprised that Snape did now show his face this month after he had been humiliated the month before.

And so after having taken his potion, Remus left his office and crept down the school's hallways and to the secret passageway that had once been used during his youth to smuggle him out of the school once a month. He was feeling very weak as he slowly made his way down the dank tunnel. He had only the wand to light his way.

He went on for what must have been twenty minutes or so until he finally reached the end of the tunnel and entered the house through the use of a trap door in the floor of the sitting room.

Once inside, Remus released a weary sigh and made his way up to the torn up bed chambers where he used to live once a month. He could feel in his bones that the moon was about to rise and that it was near his time to change. And so he prepared himself once inside by removing his clothes as not to tear them and laying himself down upon the bed.

Up in the attic of the Shack, Sirius, now in his dog form lay listening. He had memorized and practiced the Animagus spell over and over the last week so he could perform it even as Jack. He heard the creak of the trapdoor at last, and perked up his ears and sniffed as he heard movement on the floor of the house below him.

Someone walking around, then the creak of an old four poster bed. Sirius smiled a doggy smile and rising from his laying position, he shook the dust from himself, and trotted his way down the ladder staircase to the bedroom below. He emerged from the hallway, and gave a sniff, checking the air. Once he saw Remus, and caught his scent, he gave a friendly bark before running and jumping up onto the bed beside him, wagging his tail madly.

Remus opened up his golden eyes and gasped as Sirius jumped up on the bed beside him. "Sirius!" Remus cried before he sat up and wrapped his thin arms around his shaggy friend, hugging him tightly. His naked body was hidden beneath the moldy old bed covers. "Oh, Sirius!" Remus nuzzled the dog's chest, smiling happily. It'd been so long since he'd been so near his friend. Even as a dog, he still smelled the same.

Sirius wiggled his massive dog body as he wagged his tail madly and licked Remus' face over and over. He stepped all over the bed, rolling then onto his back and rolling around with his friend of so many years, so many experiences. He panted quickly, so excited to be near Remus again, knowing he was just as glad to see him. He whined and woofed happily.

Remus laughed softly as Sirius wiggled around like mad. "You'd better get down now, Sirius." he then gestured to the window, the moon had nearly risen above the hills now. "I don't want to accidentally hurt you when I transform." And then he frowned, not liking the idea of Sirius having to witness the painful transformation.

Sirius dropped his ears back, and whined softly at Remus' words. With a final lick to his friend's face, he jumped down from the bed, and crawled underneath it, hiding in the farthest corner. This was done to give Remus both space and privacy during the change. Doing it alone, but with friends near seemed to make it easier on him.

Remus sighed softly at Sirius' kind action, and not five minutes later, the moon had finally risen and it's light had shone upon his bare flesh. The first sound he made was a grunt and a groan of pain, before he began to scream like like a child. By that time he had turned over on all fours and was gripping the bed sheets in agony, tears rolling down his cheeks. Sirius could easily make out the sounds of Remus' bones crunchinging as they lengthened and shrunk, rearranging themselves.

Eventually, his screams began to sound more and more like an animal's until finally, a long and piercing wolf's howl was heard from Remus, and the transformation was complete. There was silence after it was done, broken only by the faintest of whimpers.

Under the bed, when the sounds of pain and change reached his sensitive ears, Sirius put his paws over his ears and shuddered as he laid there on the floor cowering. Several minutes later, it was all over, and there was only soft sounds coming from the wolf on the bed above him. Cautiously, Sirius slipped out from under the bed and put his front paws up on the edge of the bed, peering with his pale eyes over at Remus. "Arrrroooo?" he whimpered softly, nosing at Remus' ribs with his nose. His nose was marked with white scars, most were faded, but some seemed more recent.

Remus inched his way out from beneath the covers, standing up before he seated himself on the bead and wagged his tail rather slowly. He was a beautiful wolf. He was huge and furry, his brown fur speckled with gray. And his eyes remained as they were when he was a human, they were bright, peaceful and golden like a sun set, unlike the times when he did not take the potion and they glowed a fiery red. Remus barked softly down at Sirius, pawing at the bed sheets.

Sirius leaned forward, and licked Remus's muzzle lovingly, then his ears. The then jumped up onto the bed, and playfully barked at the wolf. He crouched with his front end down, rump in the air, tail wagging lazily as he barked again, Come play! he seemed to be saying to his old friend.

Remus barked back excitedly, wagging his bushy tail furiously before he pounced upon Sirius, knocking his big shaggy body to the dusty floor. There, he growled and nipped at Sirius, licking his ears playfully and making high pitched woofs that sounded like laughter.

Sirius hit the floor with a surprised yelp, but then quickly rolled over and pounced on Remus. He playfully bit down on the thick ruff of fur at the back of his neck and gave him and good shaking before letting go and running circles around him and and the room, up and down off of the bed, and around and around.

Remus grinned a wide, wolfish grin, and would have laughed out loud had he been a human. He chased after Sirius for a time, before he turned and cornered his hairy friend and marking at him loudly. Remus' eyes were shimmering, and they seemed to say "Why are you so excited?"

Sirius was chased around and around until at last, he collapsed on the floor before the cold and empty fireplace panting like mad. He made a rumbly growl sort of dog talk to Remus, then flopped onto his side, panting heavily.

Lupin trotted over to Sirius, watching him a moment before he gave in and plopped down beside him. There he nuzzled Sirius' chest with his cold nose and licked at his fur affectionately and lovingly.

Sirius made a rumbly growl sound deep in his chest as Remus groomed him. Then after a few moments, he rolled over and began to do the same for Remus. He tongue bathed his muzzle and face, then his ears affectionately over and over, then pausing, he signed and rest his head on Remus' back and thumped his tail on the floor slowly.

Remus released a contented sigh as Sirius groomed him and nuzzled him. He hadn't felt so happy in ages. He was surprised at how much he missed his friend and at how empty he felt when he was not near him. He wished that they could both be humans at that moment. It would have been nice to hold Sirius in his arms and kiss his lips again. He missed the sound of his voice. And he found it to be very difficult to be angry with Sirius at all as he lay there with him, feeling his warmth and taking in his scent so fully.

Sirius let out a long sigh, he seem so content as he closed his eyes, and relaxed, using the large wolf for a warm furry pillow. It was so nice to be this close to Remus again. He longed for more, but he couldn't. He vowed himself to another, and even if it broke his heart, he would not betray another lover. He suddenly sneezed, the dust getting into his nose, then laid his head back down on Remus' back and sighed happily. He smelled so good, like no other.

Remus rolled over onto his belly and chomped on to Sirius' ear, growling softly. He then licked his ear and muzzle, attempting to snuggle as close to Sirius as possible.

Sirius' ears flicked back and forth as he listened to the sounds of the night. The village nearby, other animals moving around in the dark. He made a contened rumbly sort of growl, dog talk, speaking of his contentment to be here, with the wolf.

Lupin had his forehead pressed up against Sirius' furry neck and his golden eyes were closed. At Sirius' faint growl, Lupin nuzzled Sirius softly, and inched closer to him, lapping at his fur a moment before he made a high pitched yawn. And then he was still, breathing Sirius' scent in deeply. He felt as though he could stay like this with his old friend forever.

Eventually, Sirius fell into a deep, peacefull sleep. He was lulled there by the warmth and scent of the other, and the feeling of being at peace for the first time in many years. He dreamed of his youth, of friends alive and now dead, but in better, happier times.

It was his damn stomach growling, and cramping that stirred him from the deep, warm an comfortable sleep he was in. He rolled over, onto his back and yawned. Gotta pee. Was his first thought, and he got to his feet. Dog! I am still a dog. What time is it? Where am I?! the endless stream of panicked thoughts flew through his mind, and he ran to the window, looking out at the bright morning light. Bugger! he swore to himself, then looked back over his shoulder at the sleeping man on the floor of the cabin. Remus. With a low whine of regret, he gave a short, sharp bark, then dashed down the stairs to the first floor, and outside into the bright morning light. He was a black streak making straight for the forest, then Hogwarts.

At the sharp bark, Remus opened his eyes and sat up. He had just missed seeing Black before he ran from the shack. Remus at first had no idea where he was, but then he remembered and frowned. He glanced down at his now human hands and shivered. He remained on the dusty floor for a long while, naked, chilly and alone. He wished that he had gotten the chance to say good bye to his friend.

He would have stayed there to nope the entire morning, had ne not remembered that it was early in the morning and he had classes to teach. There was a wave of panic in his chest for a moment, and he wondered if he would be late or not. Hurriedly, he grabbed his clothes and dressed, dashing throught he door and down the stairs to the trap door. He hoped to God that he wasn't late.

Sirius ran as fast as he could, paws and strides covering great amounts of ground, but he knew he would be late, so late for classes. He breached the forest at last, then circled around the grounds to a secluded area where he changed forms, then made his way to the front entrance of the castle. He was dressed luckily in his house clothing but no over robes. When he skidded inside he quickly peered inside the Great Hall. Empty. Terrific, he has missed breakfast, and judging from the emptyness of the Halls, classes had begun. He raced down to the dungeons, grabbed his book bag and robe, and made a mad dash for his first class of the day, Potions.

Remus dashed through though the entrance to the secret passageway, and raced through the halls and up two flights of stairs to his classroom. Passing students were giving him odd looks all the while. When he finally reached his class, he found that it was already full up. The students were all gabbing with each other loudly and were tossing paper airplanes back and forth. "Sorry I'm late, class!" Remus cried as soon as he entered, attempting to catch his breath. The class stifled giggles at the sight of their teacher looking so flustered and out of breath. "If you'll all turn to page 376 in your text books, then we shall begin." Remus finally managed as he went throught he stack of notes that were on his desk. He hardly noticed the picture Draco Malfoy had drawn of a snarling werewolf behind him on the black board.

2002-11-20 09:19:00,
I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date!

An IC RP with Snape, and Jack Grim.

Sirius ran as fast as he could, paws and strides covering great amounts of ground, but he knew he would be late, so late for classes. He breached the forest at last, then circled around the grounds to a secluded area where he changed forms, then made his way to the front entrance of the castle. He was dressed luckily in his house clothing but no over robes. When he skidded inside he quickly peered inside the Great Hall. Empty. Terrific, he has missed breakfast, and judging from the emptyness of the Halls, classes had begun. He raced down to the dungeons, grabbed his book bag and robe, and made a mad dash for his first class of the day, Potions.

Snape was not happy in the slightest. Irritation thrummed through him, an over-taught string. The students seemed to sense his bad mood- well, worse mood- and all had their heads tucked down, working hard, or at least looking like it. Snape was sitting at his desk, glaring unceasingly, and staring at the door. When it opened, he was ready with a harsh mental rebuke. Late.

I know. I know. I know. he replied in a rush of thought and with head lowered, went to the only open seat with his class, right near Snape's desk, and sat down quickly. He glanced up at the blackboard and the lesson scrawled across it. He made mental note of it, and then set about to catching up on the written part, knowing he had no time for the practical at this point.

No, I don't think you do, Snape shot, mentally. Prissy. You're negligent. Not only that, but you're irresponsible. Did you not see fit to tell me where you were going? The slightest tint of hysteria was present there, but Snape had spent the entire previous night going insane with panic- from the minute he'd felt the pull, called out, and recieved no reply... And had run straight to Albus. Thankfully, he had blocked out all memory of what had happened next. The intent stare he was fixing on his pupil could hardly have escaped notice. Then, as if he had just remembered, "Don't worry Gruim you shall make up for this time tonight." And then some.

Jack paused in his reading, and closed his eyes to aid in restraining himself. He was feeling the stress, but in a different way. Because he was being left out of so much he could sense was going on with Snape, the Ouroboros, him. Yes, and I am lazy, and thick, and inconsiderate and good at sucking you off. So what?! he shot back with equal fire. Aren't I entitled to some private time to take care of matters other than YOU? he spat silently, then slammed his book shut, and folded his hands on top of it, earning him glances from the Slytherins near by, Draco in particular. Draco smiled cruelly. He could FEEL the tension between the two, and was eager, hungry for a bloodletting.

I'll tell you what you are and are not good at,Snape growled, and stood up slowly, hands flat on the desk, looming. You are NOT entitled to private time when a certain someone decides that he would quite like to talk with certain associates. And what do you think happens when he can't? Certain professors had to be restrained by certain Headmasters and drugged senseless. That was what. "Pray... continue..."

Jack sat, tensed, and his lips moving slowly, silently for a moment, then with a controlled, measured motion, he opened his book once again, picked up a quill and began to take down notes on the Lesson of the Day. "Venoms, not just for pain or antidotes". "How fitting..." he muttered barely perceptible, and began taking notes for use later. If there WAS a later left to him for something as mundane as this.

The bell rang shortly after, but no one seemed to want to leave straight away. Or they did, and they didn't. They lingered, watching from fleeting glances. Snape was not amused. "Do you not have lessons to go to?" he snapped, leaned forwards on his desk, and shifted his glare to Longbottom, who practically squeaked with fright. They dispersed quickly after that.

Jack waited for the majority of the students to filter out before he closed up his notebook and put away the ink and quill. He placed his things in his book bag, and shouldered it before stepping down the rows of desks, and headed for the door without a glance back at Snape. It was a test of wills now.

Snape was radiating a constant, burning annoyance and rage. He was still leaning forwards on his desk- like a serpent, ready to strike. Poised. His dark eyes burned holes in Jack's back. There. Give him something to think about. And this... this all served him the better, in the long run. Yes..."

2002-11-20 16:04:00,
Prelude to ..... ?

An IC RP with Jack Grim and Snape.

Snape sent the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw fifth years packing, growling a warning against any late assignments, and waited until the last of them had fled before he sent an extremely irritated-sounding summons. Your presence is required, Grim. Don't bother to bring anything. Snape walked into the office and tided a few things, pushing the chair under his desk straighter.

Jack's head slowly rose at the sudden, and terse summons. It made the pit of his stomach tense more than it already was, and he slowly closed the the book he had been reading until the end of his current class. He paused a bit before replying, still fuming from earlier in the day. Coming now Master, as soon as the bell rings if that is acceptable? he said in a slightly flippant tone as he began to pack his things up. When the bell sounded, he strode from the classroom, and headed toward the dungeons, and Snape's Office.

As if Snape would have had him come before the bell rang. The thought hadn't even occured to him- too many years living to a schedule, whole life dictated by the ringing of a bell- it was too deep a training to shake easily, especially in his ordered, patterned mind. Though now he thought of it, keeping the Dark Lord waiting on the end of a lesson sounded rather silly. It was already getting dark outside, the moon visible cresting the horizon behind the trees in the distance, tinged with pink. The clear sky boded for a cold night, too. The Potions Master stood before the fire, dying slowly, fingers laced behind his back, waiting. I don't see how any further delay could hurt, he hissed.

Jack arrived with reasonable quickness, but obviously didn't run, and closed the door to Snape's office behind him quietly. He stood there waiting as he looked at the back of Snape's head for a moment, he waited a beat, then set his book bag down on a chair nearby, and then sat down in another. He cleared his throat softly, an unneeded action for he knew that Snape knew he was here. He waited for the next instruction, or what would come next.

"You better be ready. We leave at night-fall," Snape said by means of explanation. Hardly the inspiring speech of a general to his troops- but Snape was no great military commander. He might have been good at tactics, might even have been good with words- but he didn't think now was the time to pontificate. Albus knew, and had been good enough to give him a Port-Key for beyond the gates to Hogwarts, but not one back. And he knew why.

Jack's heartbeat increased at those few words. So little was said, but he knew what they meant. "We, Sir?" was sqeaked out however, reflexively before he knew it, and he cursed himself for it. He bit down on his lower lip, and then noticed his hands were shaking. He shoved them down between robe covered thighs to hide that fact.

"I do not use the royal plural, Grim. My blood may be pure but it is not that blue," he said, and peered over his shoulder. Owlishly, he turned his head back and walked to the wall, peering up at the small slit in the wall which let the last vestiges of light in. "Do try not to cause me too many problems."

He wanted to say so many things to the other man at that moment, both silent and spoken, kind and unkind. The urge to blow up at him was overwhelming, but he knew he would most likely cuffed, and scolded. Now was not the time for personal battles. It was the time for steely resolve, and no fear. It was time to do his job. As if suddenly realizing that made him stronger, Jack sat up straight, then nodded. "I understand Sir, I have a few owls I should like to send before in case...." he stopped, biting that lower lip again. He looked down at the ground and shook his head, not finishing the thought aloud.

Snape breathed out down his nose- a noisy sound. Surely Jack had had the time already? Wasn't first lesson ample warning? Or, a treacherous voice added, the night before? Snape waved a hand towards the door distractedly. There was still a few minutes of light left. He didn't want to send anything- had given up on that a long time ago. You could only write goodbyes so many times before it got silly. Plus, people might find, or get them, when the worst (or perhaps not the worst) failed to happen. He didn't say anything, but resumed his watching of the small slit of sky still visible, sky, gradually darkening.

Jack rose from the chair without a word, then left the office and made it as far as the classroom beyond. He collapsed into a chair at one of the long desks, and groaned. He paused only for a moment before grabbing some parchment and a quill left behind from the days classes before. The first he wrote was to Harry. It was full of ambiguities, and a brief explanation as to what he was going to attempt. One to Cho, short, simple, again, open ended. One to Albus. One to Remus. When he was done, he folded them up and gave them to a summoned House Elf to deliver and to take to the Owlery. By the time he was finished, it was fully dark."

2002-11-20 16:20:00,
Letters from the Condemned...

Dear Harry,

I am so sorry for not writing more often, but events that have happened recently have kept me busy. I don't want you to worry, too much, but I am setting out tonight on a mission. I hope it turns out for the best, but in all dealings with Voldemort, there is a definite possibility of danger, and death.

I do NOT want you to come looking for me, nor leave the castle for ANY reason tonight. I hope this will go as we have planned, and turn out for the best. I couldn't leave however without first telling you how proud I am of you, and how well you have done.

Be well Harry, we shall always be with you, watching over you.

With love,

Sirius

Dearest Remus,

Tonight I leave on a mission of utmost danger and secrecy. Forgive me please for not telling your more, or allowing you to aid. I did not want to leave on this quest without first telling you how sorry I was for ... everything.

Time is short, I must go soon, but I had to write this to you incase it goes badly. In case it does, remember me fondly, warmly, and remember that I never stopped loving you, but I had to let you go.

Always,

Sirius

Albus,

I am sure you know what Severus and I are setting out to do tonight, nothing gets past you. If it goes badly, watch after Harry as best you can, you will be the only one left.

Thank you for all the confidence you showed in me, and the second chances you bestowed on me. I promise to make you proud, and to succeed, or die well.

Your friend,

Sirius

Dear Cho,

I must go upon a quest that I may not return from. Please do not mourn me if that happens, celebrate our friendship instead.

Be well, be happy.

Your friend,

Jack Grim

2002-11-20 19:02:00,
Judgement Day. PART ONE of Two

An IC RP with Snape and Jack Grim, and Voldemort.

The portkey was such a small object. A small, golden astrolabe, covered with etchings in various scripts, and numerals from different systems- some as old as the hills themselves. It had been sitting on Albus' desk a long time, if Snape remembered correctly. Beautifully crafted. He wondered if it had always had this function. He swuinted to make out the inscription around the circumference, eyes adjusting to the dark easily.

Jack appeared silently in the doorway to Snape's office, his hands behind his back, and a resolved look upon his face. He watched Snape study the object in his hand for a moment, then silently walked over to stand next to him. "Ready Sir." he said in a monotoned voice, looking up at the taller man, waiting, his eyes guarded and cold.

"Hm?" Snape uttered, as if he had forgotten what he was doing, then flicked the object in his wrist with a quick snap, and it telescoped open, unfolding into a thin rod, with half a ball on either side. Snape grinned. That was more like it. "A present," he explained, still holding it by one end. "Here." He lifted up the end closest to Jack.

Jack watched Snape open the elaborate object with a sense of wonder. He managed a small smile, then reached for the other end of the item. A present? Unexpected, but appreciated. He though to himself as his hand gripped the cold metal. Then, something happened.

Mixed blessing, Snape thought, even whilst the portkey was transporting them- to gods (or at least Albus) knew where. He wondered if it would be anywhere near where he needed to be- but he knew that as soon as they landed, it was nearby. How considerate of him, Snape grimly half-laughed. At least we shan't have to walk.

Jack barely had the sense of direction to keep his feet when the Portkey activated. His head was spinning a bit when it stopped and they appeared at their destination. "Hallelujiah for that..." he grumbled softly, and letting his eyes adjust further to the darkness, looked around. He sniffed the air, so far nothing...

Voldemort had a tendancy towards opulence. Most insecure people did. It was reflected in the places he collected, and this was no real exception. Snape could taste the richness of his surroundings, a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He looked about, wondering where the Dark Lord had seen fit to install himself, and wondering why they had not been called already. The mask in his inside pocket weighed heavily, and feeling a little guilty, he withdrew it and started putting it on just as a low, hushed, weasely voice crept in around them. "Still getting ready, Snape?" Ah. Him. The short man stepped out of the shadows, hands folded before him, resting on his curve of stomach.

Jack was walking silently beside Snape, eyes taking in everything around him, and nose working overtime to sense, what? He felt movement from Snape, then looked over at him just as the placed the mask upon himself. This caused him to stop dead in his tracks. He knew that Snape had been a Death Eater, one of the best from what he had heard in Azkaban, but just the sight of him in that mask and Lord, the robes were different!

Why hadn't he noticed that before? Was he being handed over? Sacrificed?? Cold fear gripped his gut, and all the worst he had ever thought or believed about Snape came back to the forefront of his mind. He thought about what he had done, with HIM, how he had felt recently and up until that moment and one word came into his mind from some where deep inside. RUN. He had lifted one foot into the air to do just that, when he heard That Voice, and he froze. The hair on the back of his neck rose up, and he was unaware of the fact he was softly growling. Saliva ran over hungry teeth, and fury began to boil in his gut.

"I was born ready," Snape said, in a silky, smooth voice, dripping contempt for the other man. He slunk over to him, leaving Jack where he was standing, moving with a definite grace to the stranger. He stopped only when he was stood right up close, so the much shorter man had to crane his neck upwards to see him. "I'm waiting, Pettigrew," he said, dangerously friendly. "I don't want to be waiting. You're going to help me with that, aren't you?" Snape knew the pecking order of all- and felt no qualms about using the other man's name, especially if his had been used. Not that there had ever been any doubt between these two.

Jack's eyes opened wide as he now SAW the man Snape approached and was talking to. His vision was clouding with rage, and blind hatred, and he quickly clenched his hands at his sides as he stared holes through the form before Snape. Kill him. Kill him. Let me kill him....<i/> he was thinking before he knew it. He took a step, oh yes, but this time, it was TOWARD Snape and the other man. His vision had gone tunnel, and he saw nothing but retribution and salvation standing, trembling slightly before Snape in the form of Peter Pettigrew. Dear little Wormtail.

"Stand STILL," Snape barked, roughly, without looking over his shoulder, addressing Jack whilst looking at Peter, who was startled by his sudden, authoratative command- his own servile nature immediately kicking in, before he realised who had spoken. "H-he's through there... But be warned, he's in one of his moods..." That thought seemed to cheer Pettigrew up a little, and he rubbed his hands nervously, flicking his eyes between the towering Snape, and the boy behind him."I didn't ask you that," Snape spat, and looked over his shoulder to his student. "Come."

Jack had been rattled to the depths of his soul by the sudden command, and froze in mid step. The Ouroboros tightened around his throat, punctuating his command with firm pressure. When he was recovered from that shock to his system, back to the Here and Now. He pushed the thoughts of Pettigrew and a slow death from his mind, and then when called, fell into step behind his Master. "Yes, Sir," he said in a low voice, and kept his eyes on the back hem of the billowing black robes he was following behind. Focus. Focus. Later. Later for him. God, grant me just that... Please.

It came much too easily. This... ordering. Command. Disdain. Superiority. The absolute sheer bloody arrogance that had never quite been kicked out of him, by his father, by his teachers, by his classmates, even by Riddle himself. Snape just refused to break completely. He buried it, most times, scared of this side when it did surface, prefered to be seen as an incompetant fool... because this was the side that would try and take over the world, given half the chance.

His own inner Salazar.

He walked ahead, confident that he was being followed, and looked like he owned the place. He didn't know the way but that didn't matter. At worst he could follow his arm. Both of which were hurting slightly, but from different reasons. He ignored that, as he swept into the hall Voldemort had for 'receiving' guests. Paced, with noisily clicking heels, to the very center of the room, and bowed, on one knee, head bowed. "My Lord."

I suggest you do the same.

Dichotomy allowed him to keep that voice wry.

Voldemort was reclining in a chair with the back to them, his large snake lying over his feet, watching them intently. Slitted eyes blinked, slowly. "You join us at last, how nice," came the disaffected voice, diffident, vague.

Jack followed Snape closely, on his right flank, just behind as he lead him through the expansive place chosen for the meeting. Times appeared to be going well for Voldemort. Not for long, he thought to himself. He didn't look left or right as he followed Snape, and it was instinct, or something like it that told him to stop in perfect synch with Snape. Then Snape bowed down and instructed, rather suggested that he do likewise.

Jack mimicked his Master's actions, but not his salutation. Never. He had slipped once, and would not go onto that slope again. Let Snape bow and scrape before him, he would only be pantomining. When he heard the oily voice from the throne before them, the hairs on the back of his neck rose, and a shiver ran down his spine. He purposely cleared his mind of all thought, all emotion, but kept his ears and eyes open. For now, he stared at the floor beneath him.

"Your doorman was negligent in leading us to you, My Lord," Snape said, voice easily controlled, easy, almost conversational, with the slightest tone of obediance, but a detectable amount of arrogance too.

"Was he now? I shall have to see to that. But thank you for bringing that to my attention Severus. Ah. What precisely have you brought for me today?"

Jack stood just behind Snape, and on his right flank, he folded his hands behind his back and assumed an 'at-ease' posture, waiting. Jack heard Riddle speak, and the voice was like nails on a chalkboard to his ears. It made him ill, and it made him angry. He sniffed carefully, looking for clues to new arrivals, particularly Wormtail. He doubted he could do anything to him, in here, but he could wait. He had the patience of Job. Twelve years in Azkaban had proved that. This time, there would be no pardon, he would kill him outright, and bring the body to the MOM himself.

Snape wondered what Voldemort was referring to precisely. Probably everything at once. Just like the man. Standing in a commanding posture, he slid his hand into one of the few outside pockets on these robes, brushing agasinst something he didn't recognise, until he found what he was looking for.

A platinum serpent, jointed, and limp. Hand closed tight about it, he walked up to him, held his hand out above Voldemort's open one, slackened his fingers and let it fall.

"Ah... very pretty..."

Too quiet. Too polite. Too... safe. But Snape refused to panic. Just yet.

Jack sensed movement, and looking to the side, he watched as Snape moved forward and reached into his pocket for something. He chanced a glance around the dark room, seeing no others, but something told him they were just out of sight, and cleverly masked from perception. He continued to watch the transaction between the two wizards, and waited. He kept all senses alert for... anything that might spring out at them.

The little device curled up small in Voldemort's hand, taking up a considerably small amount of space. All this over something so tiny...

The Dark Lord nudged a finger under the insensate chin, and looked at the ruby- dull- eyes. An almost boyish smile, and he parted his lips to say something Snape didn't understand.

The Ouroboros started moving, slowly, raised its head and focussed its twin eyes on Riddle. For a moment, Snape thought the spell had worked and almost lost it... but a breath later and it fell back down again, to lie still.

Ah.

"Severus?"

Jack could only partially see what was going on, but he FELT the despair in Snape when the silverly serpent in Riddle's palm suddenly swooned. Oh shit... he telegraphed even before he realized it. He swallowed nervously and held his position, watching Snape, and hoping with all hope that something only needed to be done to activate it to working status. He shook some stray fringe out of his field of vision, and waited.

"It isn't working Severus." Riddle's grin was practically set on his features. Spread over them, disgustingly, more like the grin of a skull, or the rictus of death than anything a living creature could produce.

"The books containing the complete instructions were lost in the purges, or confiscated. I did not have access to them and so I had to do the best I-"

"Excuses, Severus?" the Dark Lord interrupted. Raised one thin eyebrow.

Jack felt the tensing in his stomach rack up several notches, and sweat began to form on his spine. He flickered his eyes back and forth between Snape and Voldemort, desperately trying to think of something, ANYTHING that would help. He knew nothing about the operation or creation of the Ouroboros save for the fact they were fed with the blood of their masters. He bit down on his lower lip, and shifted his stance slightly, nervously.

"You couldn't make it anyway Severus. The only reason you have that one is because of your family. You live off them, don't you? I knew you'd fail before you even began..."

Cold-blodded anger ran through Snape, and he was shaking slightly with tension. Insult my family... But Voldemort was merely amused, his eyes flicking over to Jack, and to his throat. "That's the reason you have him, Severus. Though I'm surprised you managed even that." The dark wizard tilted his head slightly, the cogs visibly turning behind his eyes.

Jack felt sudden anger at the dig Voldemort made at Snape's family. Personal anger at the man aside, Tom Riddle was in no position to be throwing rocks in anyone's house. He kept his silence however, You are worth a dozen of him, he has no claim to a pedigree of any sort... he sent to Snape as reassurance, whether it would help or not. Whether it was wanted or not. Then he saw Voldemort's attention turn to him, and he focused his thoughts on that.

Except his family founded my House... Breeding isn't everything, however, Snape shot back, sharply. He stiffened as Voldemort walked towards them, stopping in front of Jack. If Snape kept hsi eyes front and center, he could see neither of them. But both of them were close enough that he could feel the intrusion into his personal space as a physical thing.

"You always did have taste though..." he said, using one finger and thumb to tilt up Jack's chin, turning it side to side, examining his profile, eyes, and hair. "Though it seems Grim lacks that particular gift..."

He was deliberately trying to wind him up, he knew. Not that it was hard. But Voldemort was systematically pressing on every button he had.

Back off, back off or I'll rip your goddamn throat out...

Jack remained still and passive as Voldemort drew near, only wincing at the moment that Snape sent his silent threat that rattled in his mind like a klangston bell. He shuddered just as Voldemort touched his jaw and turned his face to examine him like he was a beast at auction. He moved his eyes to lock with Voldemort's, he would not defer to him, or look away first. He cared not what Voldemort thought he lacked. He was not there for his pleasure or plans. He was full of surprises neither could begin to guess at.

"How well-trained do you have him, Severus?" Voldemort asked, with a wicked glint in his eyes. His tone conspiratorial, as though they were in on some secret. Which perhaps they were. Turned his head to Snape.

"My Lord?" No stammer, but it was getting difficult to keep up the facade.

"Don't play the fool, Severus. It doesn't suit."

Jack looked over at Snape then, trying to read his face, his eyes and ignore the steadying, quickening pounding of his heart. What the the fuck is THIS now?! he growled as he stared at Snape, body tense, and hands balled into fists again.

A game. Now shut up. "Well enough," Snape answered, equivocally. trying to read the man in front of him- his voice, words, gestures...

Voldemort's grin widened. "You think so?" he asked, clapping a hand on the Potions Master's shoulder, sending a thrill of pain all the way down along his left arm which almost made Snape gasp.

Snape nodded. Once, slowly, slightly, carefully. Stood back from Riddle, and turned to face Jack.

Jack eased a bit as Voldemort moved away from him, then to Snape. A game? he thought, mostly to himself, and watched Snape as he turned to face him. He shook his hari out of his eyes with a proud toss of his head, and waited to see just how this would play out, and to what level.

Snape wondered what in the hells he was supposed to do now. What would satisfy Voldemort. If anything. Satisfy him? Most likely... An Unforgiveable. They were his favourites- and the ban made them even more attractive to the Dark Lord. Would that work or make things worse?

Black to move, Snape thought, and found his wand. His face was hidden behind the mask, so the calm- peaceful serenity that washed over him as he lifted his hand, flicked his wand, and spoke the words- almost as if in a dream- could not be heard. Or what was really said... "Excrucior..."

Jack made no move to arm himself when Snape's wand hand was raised. What good would it do anyway? He was ougunned two to one, at least. His eyes never left Snape's and they narrowed a bit as he saw him take aim, and utter a spell. There was a flash of light that erupted from Snape's wand, and it struck Jack full in the chest. He recoiled with a scream he wasn't able to supress, and in reflex he grabbed at the point of pain even as he fell to his knees before the other two.

Snape couldn't shut down the link even if he wanted to, and the pain rebounded in his ears and in his mind. Somehow, he managed to keep his wand arm straight, even though the rest of him was trembling- his knees threatening to give way at any minute. He closed his eyes as he kept the spell focussed for as long as he had the strength, and then let his hand fall to his side, fingers barely holding his wand.

Voldemort watched, entranced, at what was unfolding before him. Serpentile eyes didn't blink once, drinking in the pair of them equally, licking his teeth as he did so.

Snape kicked Jack in the side until he fell over. "Get onto... your knees..." Snape managed to utter. His nose had started bleeding, but he couldn't tell, the sickly-coppery fluid flowing down behind the mask and mixing with the sweat on his upper lip.

Jack was reeling on the ground now, his entire body wracked with burning pain. His vision went white and he felt nausea rise up in his gut. He heard the barked command from his fetal position on the floor, and his mind swam. Why? was all he could muster, his mind dull, pain echoing throughout. He moved with trembling limbs and got first to hands and knees, and then once he was marginally steadied, he knelt up, bum resting on his calves and with trembling hands, laced them behind his neck. He looked down at the ground.

Ask me to do it again, Snape thought, as evenly as he could. Ask me. He stood, perfectly still, like a statue. Rigid. Frozen. Between the mask and the robes, the only part of him visible were his hands- and only because he hadn't put the gloves on. His back was straight, hands folded around the wand that was pointing straight up along his sternum, like some bizarre guardian at a gatepost. He waited, silent.

Jack's mind spun with the answer he received, and he was trembling terribly from the first shot, but something inside him began to die. "Please Master, again." he heard himself say in a soft, shaky voice, then clamped his eyes shut, bracing himself.

Snape cast the spell again. Not in an extravagant, showy way- but simply. Matter-of-factly. This is how it must be. The pain he was already suffering fed in- a very good way to start a feedback loop, he thought dully, just before the wave came back and hit him between the eyes. This time, he couldn't help but stagger back slightly under the force of the blow- voices starting to scream in his head. His. His and not just from now. Other voices too...

Riddle watched as the Potions Master started to falter, the white collar about his neck belying his condition only too well.

Some part of Snape was enjoying this. Immensely. The amount of suffering he could cause... and take... Had done in the past... and would do in the future... His mind slipped back to the last time he had cast this curse, almost of its own accord, and he let out a little unintelligible sound.

Ask me... again... Snape sent, willing Jack to just cry.

Jack screamed and fell to the floor again, his body rippled with the pain he was being delt, as if hit by a massive electric shock. He thrashed around on the floor, and things began to happen. Memories began to return. This pain, this man, before. A street in Hogsmeade. Oh God, Oh God! he thought as that day, buried and hidden from him with a strong memory charm came back to slam him in the mind and the gut. He coughed, the nausea from the pain getting worse, and tears formed at the corners of his eyes, and ran down his cheeks. Punished, he was being punished for.... what? "Master.... please...." he moaned, panting for air, and to maintain what little control he still held over his body.

Riddle was delighted. He had always loved this curse above all others for the sheer torment it could deal out. Even better when it affected someone's mind... and far too many of his followers just couldn't suffer like this. It was, in its own way, beautiful.

Snape knew it wouldn't work unless Jack was made to want this- to want it in the strange, peverted way he did. He raised his hand again, wondering how on God's earth he could take another round, let alone Jack. He tried to say the curse again, stammered, his hand shaking too badly. Voldemort moved to stand behind him, held his hand, guiding it like a parent would with their child for the first time.

"Come on Severus," he cooed encouragingly. "You can say it again."

Jack was sobbing now, his body a quivering mass on the cold floor, and his cheeks were wet from a combination of sweat, and tears. He was lost, he didn't know where or who he was, just that he was being punished. He had displeased.... Master? Remus? Who? He took the break between spells to gasp for air and to try to roll onto his belly, then push himself up again. He had to rise, he had to... what? "M-Master? P-please...." he sputtered, arms trembling, then collapsing, dropping him back down to the floor with a soft *splat*.

Snape tried to form the words, which seemed awkward and clumsy in his mouth. It was hard enough casting the spell and meaning it enough to take proper effect-- but to cast it more or less on yourself? His tongue felt too big for his mouth, tripping over his palate and teeth like a gawky bird trying- and failing- to fly for the first time.

He shook his head. "He can't... He doesn't know how to take it..." he managed, laboriously. Thinking, but not voicing his concern, Drive him mad... Riddle reached forwards and took the wand from Snape's struggling hand, silencing the protest by laying it over the mouth of Snape's mask. "I know."

Defense mechanisms were failing him, everything he tried to shut off the pain, the torture wasn't working. The coldness of the floor added chilling shivers to his already seizing form. He heard the voice in his head again, and angrily he shut the door on that with the equivilant of a slamming door, his last communication before doing so, Just finish it!! Do it you spineless bastard!

Snape was annoyed. Very very annoyed. He was sick and tired of having to deal with other people and their demands and their values and their desires, their judgement, their approval... Sod them all to hell and back. A little shakily, he got to his feet, walked over to Jack- placing himself between him and Riddle momentarily and all but screaming for the Dark Lord to try anything. He bent down, gradually, and hooked his fingers under the band about Jack's neck.

"He's mine, and I shall use him as I see fit," Snape said, and stood to see what response that would get. Half of him was just waiting to be struck down- where at least he wouldn't hurt any more. The other half was mentally sticking two fingers up at the older wizard.

Lizard-like eyes narrowed in pleasure. Too precious by far. "You always did have to make a song and dance out of everything, Severus..." he said, idly tapping the wand to his jaw. Snape stood under the scrutiny.

He wasn't going to move, fight or cry out anymore. Not that he could have if he wanted to. His sides were heaving for air, and his mind was spinning like an engine in neutral. He couldn't get his thoughts to coelesce on anything, anyone. When he felt the movement near him and the grip on his collar he flinched and tried to pull away. "NO! No more!" he rasped hoarsely and lifted up on hand in defense of another presumed attack.

Ah. Not so well-trained after all? Riddle held out the wand with a backwards flick of his wrist, almost bored-like, tossing his head back once.

Snape didn't resent the offer, but there were better ways than magic, sometimes. Jack's flailing hand was easily caught, brought behind him, and pushed up between his shoulderblades. "I will decide when you have had enough, Grim," Snape hissed, and truly meant it.

"My Lord," the Potions Master continued, looking up proudly, voice steady. "For all the years I served you and declined any reward- let me ask no other than this." He twisted Jack's wrist painfully.

Jack made a feral sound as he was gripped then his arm twisted behind his back. This pressed him harder face down to the floor, trapping him. He had had just enough rest to recover some of his strength, his fight, and a growl sounded in his throat. "No! No more!" he coughed out, his vice rasped from the screams of earlier. He found against the hold on his wrist and arm, trying to turn over, to break the hold. He would not go down like this. If Snape had turned on him, betraying him, he would take him down as well. He would kill them all. Fury built up inside of him, and the inner beast rose up, and he began to fight with all the strength he could summon to break free of the grip holding him down.

Voldemort hadn't thought the old professor had it in him. The trouble with Snape had been he thought too damn much about everything. There was something wrong about him- even for one of Voldemort's followers, and he'd never fully pinned it down. "You were always amusing, Severus. And at this rate people are going to accuse me of favouritism." A wide, feral grin. "What would the fun in me spoiling this be when you do such a good job of it yourself?" he asked, nodding towards the struggling youth, even though Snape was not watching the Dark Lord himself.

One hand kept Jack's hand pressing him down, leaning forwards slightly to keep his neck pressed down too. The other moved to the small of his back, judging just the bare minimum amount of energy required to keep him immobile. Communications severed, he leaned in to whisper roughly, "Do as you are told. Stay STILL." For the love of everything holy."

2002-11-20 19:08:00,
Judgement Day. PART TWO of Two

An IC RP with Snape, Jack Grim, Voldemort, and various Death Eater Red Shirts.

Voldemort strolled idly over, with the air of a libertine or dandy- all that was missing was the dressage. He stopped, and clapped an almost friendly hand on Snape's shoulder- who jumped. He had quite forgotten they weren't alone.

"Quite the insolent little whelp isn't he? I WONDER why you're so drawn to him, Severus," he teased.

"I don't know, perhaps you might be able to give me the benefit of experience?" Snape snapped, and looked up. He let go, and stood up, pulling himself as tall as he could. And as threatening as he could.

Jack felt the grip on him lifted and laid there for a beat before pullin his cramped and numbe arm back around to shake out alongside of him. His head was hanging down as he lifted himself up from the floor with his other arm, and muttered under his breath. He took a steadying breath and started to right himself to a standing position, ignoring the drama going on nearby between the other two in the room.

Riddle's eyes danced, lit somewhere in their depths. He slid his arm about Snape's waist, deliberately invading his personal space, and was not in the least bit surprised when the man stiffened further and shoved him back. He spoke in a low voice, so that only Snape could hear, "So ridiculously petty..."

If you bent a ruler both ways enough, one day it would snap. So it was with people. Snape freaked out and lost it totally. He found his wand somehow, had it up and pointed straight at Riddle, and was bellowing before he knew what he was doing.

"AVADA---"

"KEDAVRA!" came the second party of the spell from to the side of Snape, he had been lost in his own wave of sudden madness he didn't hear Jack utter the same spell at the same moment, directed at the same target. It was a clue to action that hadn't needed an Ouroboros to communicate. Green light erupted from the tip of Jack's wand and struck Voldemort the same time Snape's spell did. As Jack stood there grinning maniacally, watching the spell hit, he didn't see the attack coming from behind.... Wormtail.

Voldemort went flying backwards- and crashed into the curtains hanging from the walls, rich, elegant tapestries depicting mythological scenes- and not pretty ones either. He became tangled in the yards of fabric, tripping, and bringing an entire hanging down on top of him and the Death Eaters who had hidden behind there until they heard the start of the curse and had moved to see what opportunities it afforded. Most of them were caught under the falling beam, knocking a few out cold.

Snape stood stock still, staring at the tip of his wand, arm still extended. He was so immobile it looked like rigor mortis had already set in.

Only the failing of Jack's leg causing him to stagger as he cast the spell spared him from the like attack coming from behind him courtesy of Wormtail. He felt the hot energy of the spell blow past him and Snape and strike another emerging Death Eater approaching Snape. Jack spun around as best he could and fired a spell back in the direction Wormtail's attack had come from, but he was already turning tail and running. The spell hit the next Death Eater entering the chamber however, knocked off pace by Wormtail's cowardly exit.

Snape might have told you, had you asked him, that the bleeding air was alight with a patchwork of spells- oh so pretty colours and lights interlacing and weaving in and out. He was very tempted indeed to just watch them- and the dance of the Death Eaters running in and out. He couldn't have choreographed it better himself.

But then survival instinct overwhelmed the physical shock he was suffering, and he snapped out of the self-induced trance long enough to yell out a sleeping spell strong enough to knock the teeming mass of witches and wizards coming from one side- effectively halving the onslaught. He turned, quickly, just in time to find himself bowled into by someone about his height and build.

Some spell hit Jack as he was looking around the room for his next target and he screamed aloud in agony. It felt like his bones were on fire, and he fell to the ground as Snape was bowled into. "CRUCIO!" came the perfectly intoned command from somewhere in the dark, and he seized again.

Snape fought dirty. There were no two ways about it. When cornered, he fought tooth, nail, knee, elbow, and any other part of his anatomy that could possibly harm his opponent. And right now he was gouging and kicking and biting for all he was worth. His fingers tried to push under the mask his attacker was wearing, trying to find their eyes, and he half-shoved it off in the process, before the two of them rolled and knocked over someone standing above. That caused them to separate momentarily and they were both on their feet in a flash.

"Petrificus totalus!" Snape yelled, and ducked as a curse was sent back his way.

Jack was held in the thrall of a particularly powerful Cruciatus Curse being cast from a calmly standing Death Eater, hovering in the shadows of the chamber. His pale blue eyes sparkled with the glint of guiltless glee as he tortured Snape's whelp. He would kill him slowly, in a way most painful to body and mind. He lifted the tip of his wand for just a moment, just enough respite to allow the victim to cry out in agony and plead for mercy before delivering another round. He would deal with Snape, his comrade in a moment.

It was a long time since Snape had been in anything resembling a fight- be it a duel, a bareknuckle brawl, or an all-out free for all like now. But he had the instincts of old- and knew how to stay alive. Surrounding him were those less well-trained in self-defence and the dark arts (most of the best of Voldemort's followers had been sent to Azkaban anyway) lying in a rough circle about his feet. The other Death Eaters looked a little wary of taking him on- bleeding, limping, and breathing heavily as he was. Had they had the intelligence to team up, however, they wouldn't have needed to wait.

The battered professor turned his head at a familiar voice- at two familiar voices, and held his wand dangerously. "Back off, Malfoy," he hissed past loose teeth.

The hooded and masked figure did not move from his position of tall, proud posture, and kept his wand aimed at the fallen and struggling form on the floor. "He's almost.... done Severus...." he grinned behind the mask, and continued to hold the spell. Jack's cries had slowly ceased the moment before with a gasp, and it was only the power of the spell that kept his body moving in a jerky fashion.

Snape crossed the distance like a man driven, and used his shoulder to knock the other man to the floor, roughly. Lucius fell, a little surprised, and started lifting up his wand hand- only to have Snape stamp down on it, hard, with one big, black-booted foot. He pointed his own wand down at the wizard's throat. "Give me ONE good reason why I don't kill you this minute, and make it good, because I am THIS damn close to gutting the lot of you and hanging you with your own entrails!" Snape yelled.

Jack's body stopped moving with the sudden ceasing of the spell, and he laid still. It was impossible to see in the darkness what his condition was, but he laid there silent, and still surrounded by other fallen bodies ranging from stunned to deceased.

The shocked man looked about to speak, but Snape didn't give him the benefit of the doubt. He systematically disarmed every single person in the room, and knocked all the remaining lucid ones out. He planted a hefty kick at the man on the floor below him, near the kidneys where he knew he'd cause the most damage, before he pulled down the tapestry from one wall, and started levitating each of the Death Eaters- in whatever condition they were in- and hanging them from the curtain hoops. He then undid all their belts, leaving their pants around their ankles.

When all the others in the room were displayed- the dead hanging indiscriminately alongside- and often bumping into- the living- Snape stormed over to where Jack was lying, and picked him up first using his collar and shoving him under one arm, using his hip to carry the weight. With one last disparaging look around, he stormed out of the room, along the hall, and out through the main doors into the rain- not noticing the man watching him from behind."

2002-11-21 11:02:00,
Tell me where I am.... Tell me who I am...

Madame Pomfrey gave a tender smile as she set the bowl of soup on the table next to Jack's bed in the Hospital Wing. She had gotten him to eat most of it. He was awake and had an appetite, but otherwise was unresponsive.

She had tried to get him to feed himself, but he seemed to get confused in the middle of the process. She thought she could tell that he was trying to accomplish the task, but something was causing his thoughts to be halted or interrupting them.

Once he had been fed and eased back to a reclining position, he turned to look out the window nearby at the castle grounds. He blinked slowly, and let out a sigh, but said or did nothing more. He seemed to be waiting for something, or someone.

Poppy looked up as she neared the canteen section of the Hospital Wing, and saw Albus standing there, looking worried. "Any change Poppy?" he asked softly.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head sadly. "He's awake, but incoherent, at least he eats when fed. That's something at least. I've examined him over, but there is not a mark on him. His eyes Albus, they are so vacant..." he said with a soft sob to her voice. "Has Severus told you what happened to him? To them?"

Albus didn't answer her. Either he didn't know yet, or he wasn't saying. "I think, perhaps... we may have to send him elsewhere f or care... This may be beyond your considerable skill to heal Poppy." he said with a grave tone.

Madame Pomfrey gave a little gasp, then placed her hand over her mouth, "St. Mungo's Albus?" she whispered a moment later.

Albus slowly nodded. "But it may not be as simple as that..." he added, then turned and left the Hospital Wing with his hands folded behind his back, lost in thought.

2002-11-24 14:11:00,
Hello..... is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me...

An IC RP with Jack Grim, NPC Pomfrey and Dumbledore and Remus Lupin.

classes, Lupin was feeling rather under the weather. It wasn't unusual for him to feel that way, especially just after the full moon. As soon as all of the students had cleared out of his classroom, he straightened up a bit and then he left and began to make his way to the hospital wing.

As he slowly strolled through the halls, passing giggling students as he went, he couldn't help but think about Jack Grim. Lupin hadn't seen the boy over the last several days. It was unlike him to miss any classes. Remus could not help but feel worried over the boy. Certainly though, he must be alright. Perhaps all he had was a cold.

Remus shoved Jack from his mind then as he entered the hospital wing and sought out Madam Pomfrey.

Jack was sitting up in bed, holding a piece of bread in one hand and looking out the window at the darkening sky. Madame Pomfrey had managed to get him to eat bread on his own not long before. It was not nearly as complex a procedure as feeding oneself soup. He would in slow motion lift the bread to his lips, take a bite, then lower his hand again. He chewed slowly, blinking every now and then as he continued his silent watch of the grounds beyond.

Lupin glanced over as he noticed Jack just sitting there eating a piece of bread. So it seemed that he did indeed have himself a cold. Lupin found himself watching a few moments more, before Madam Pomfrey bustled over to Remus and asked what he came for.

"Oh, ah..." Lupin could not help but blush a little, started by her voice. "I've been feeling a bit under the weather lately, Poppy. You wouldn't happen to have any pepper-up potion, would you?" he then arched a bushy eyebrow up at her, a faint smile touching his lips.

Jack did nothing more than what he had been doing before. Slowly biting from his bread, then chewing and swallowing. Oddly enough, his massive appetite may prove to be a key to his cure. He heard voices in the Hospital Wing, not an unusual thing. Slowly, with a delayed reaction, he turned his head in the direction of the conversation going on across the ward. He blinked slowly, watching the two people, then losing interest just as quickly, he returned to looking outside at the nightime scene. He startled, and drew back slightly when an owl flew past his window and made a loud screeching sound. A moment later, he took another bite of the bread in his hand.

Remus glanced over at Jack when Pomfrey went to get him a bottle of the potion he desired. "How are you feeling, Jack? I haven't seen you in class for a while. " Lupin then began, stepping forward as to get a better look at the boy. He knew that he shouldn't have done so. He should have let Jack be so that he could concentrate on more important things. Remus didn't want to go off and pine over some young student. It was so improper!

Jack seemed to have recovered from the scare the sudden appearance of an owl had given him, but he didn't respond to Professor Lupin's question. It was as if he hadn't heard him at all. Bite, chew, swallow. Something told him his name had been spoken, but that seemed to happen quite often, but the voices were always so low and soft when it was. This had to be another one of those times. No one was touching his arm and talking to him, so he continued to stare out at the night.

Lupin furrowed his eyebrows, and then narrowed his eyes at Jack's strange behavior. Perhaps he hadn't heard him? Was the boy simply lost in thought? "Jack? Jack Grim?" Lupin then moved to his bed side and leaved forward and tilted his head so that his face was directly in front of Jack, just inches away. "Did you hear me, Jack?"

Jack was staring out at the night, and it took him a moment to register that his vision was now obscured. How odd. He leaned to the side to look around the obsticle, then he heard that name again, his name. Jack. It took him a moment again, but he slowly turned to look into the eyes of the Professor. He blinked slowly, then took a bite of his bread. He gave a look at the thin, and ragged man before him, and felt, pity. He looked, hungry? Slowly, Jack held out the remains of his piece of bread to Professor Lupin.

Lupin laughed softly at this, his nose crinkling along with the crows feet at the corners of his honey eyes. "Very funny Jack. I didn't know you had a sense of humor. How are you doing?" he then stood up straight. "Have you got a touch of the flu? I hope you can make it back to class on Monday or else you might fall behind."

Jack watched the raggedy man talk to him, and was puzzled, why wasn't he eating the bread? It was good bread. They he started talking. Jack looked into his eyes, and listened, but no, nothing he was saying was making much sense to him. He shoved the bread closer to Lupin's mouth trying to get him to eat. Eating he had discovered, was nice, and it made you feel good. He moved the bread nearer to the Professor's lips and tried to get him to eat once again. Just as he did so, Madame Pomfrey called out in a tense voice from the other side of the Hospital Ward. "Professor Lupin! Please!" she cried out as she came scurrying over. Jack seemed not to notice. He was determined to shove that bread in once he opened his mouth again, like they had done to him.

Lupin stared at Jack. What on earth was wrong with the boy? Why wasn't he answering him? He couldn't be playing some sort of a game with him, could he? "Eh, what is it, Poppy?" Lupin asked, turning his head as to look over his shoulder at her. But it was only for a moment before he was again examining Jack.

Madam Pomfrey had specific instructions from both Albus AND Professor Snape to keep anyone, and everyone away from Jack until further notice. She would of course listen to Ablus, he was the Headmaster after all, and as for Professor Snape. His odd anger, then possessive concern over the boy was worrisome to her. She swooshed over to Professor Lupin, and taking him by the arm, started to lead him back towards the front of the Hospital Wing. "He's not well Professor, come with me, I have your potion all ready for you." she said as she pulled him along, away from Jack.

"Ah, er...!" Lupin struggled a moment against her, attempting to return to Jack's side before he finally gave in and allowed her to lead him away. "Poppy," he finally asked when she released his arm. "What exactly is the matter with him? He wont talk to me." Lupin appeared to be very puzzled by all of this, although he knew her to be fussy with her patients.

"He's ill." she said shortly, patience wearing thin. Why hadn't she put the screen back up around the stunned Slytherin after the sun had set and he was not longer enjoying the warmth of the sun from the other windows? She would see to that as soon as she had taken care of Lupin and sent him on his way. Jack watched the two people leave his bedside, and and he stared at them for a moment before returning to the window watching, and eating the last of his piece of bread. Odd. Why didn't he want to eat? It was good bread.

"Ill with what?" Lupin then asked, placing his hands firmly on his hips and. He then glowered down at her. Perhaps if he glowered she might tell him what exactly was wrong with Jack. "He is one of my students, after all."

Madame Pomfrey stood her ground, and shoved the smoking goblet into Professor Lupin's hand and gave him an equally fierce expression, waiting for him to drink it before she gave any further answers it seemed. "There you go Professor Lupin. Drink it all down." she said in her matronly voice, and waited for him to do as he had been instructed. Jack meanwhile, his bread now gone looked around to see if there was more nearby. He couldn't recall where the other piece had come from however, only that it had been good. Hmm. Curious.

Lupin smirked down at Pomfrey. "Oh, come on now, Poppy. Tell me what's the matter with him." Lupin then glanced over at the boy. "Why is he just sitting there like that? He's got this vacant expression...." Lupin then frowned, looking very concerned now. He made no move to take his steaming potion.

"Like most of the rest of the people in this school," came the Potions Master's irritated, acerbic tone. He had slunk silently up to the door, where he was standing on the threshold, lips curled back in a feral... smile? He blinked slowly- an obvious sign he didn't feel at all threatened, and slunk in further, still keeping the door blocked behind him. Poppy started when she saw the Death Eater, and he snorted when he saw it.

Jack was still looking around his bed for the piece of bread, Where did it go? he thought to himself as he checked the covers, the table, leaned over to look on the floor nearby. When he didn't see it, he sat back and sighed. He muttered something, unintelligible, then returned to looking out the window again.

Poppy seemed distressed about having Severus here at all- and especially around the oh-so-nice Professor Lupin. Plus, said professor asked too much she wasn't allowed to tell. Or know about. She started ushering him out. "I'm sure the Headmaster would love to speak to you but I have my patients to see to."

Remus opened his mouth to protest, but was inexorably pushed out, and found the door closed behind him. Poppy moved to stand between Snape and the boy. "That goes for you, too," she said a little more quietly.

Jack could hear the voices from the other side of the Hospital Wing, and slowly glanced in that direction. He heard the person speaking who brought him the bread, and he watched her as she talked. Maybe she would bring more bread. He WAS hungry, he knew that much. He sighed, and watched the conversation going on, studying the faces of the man that left, the Raggedy Man, and then the new man, Sour Face. He looked quite cross about something. Jack twisted his lower lip and bit on it as he thought. Maybe he wanted bread too?

"I'm in no hurry to see Albus," Snape declared, deliberately using his first name in front of her, and flicking imaginary specks from his shoulders. He stepped forwards a little, towards her, nearing her private space to make her nervous, and incidentally getting closer to Jack. If he ignored the woman stood before him. Which wasn't hard. He sent out a low, annoyed question, mentally, wondering if there was any response. And seeing as she couldn't watch them both at the same time, kept his eyes on hers and tried to make the Ouroboros move.

Jack saw the Tall Sour Man look over at thim. Why? Then he jumped. Something was moving around his neck! It tickled, and frightened him. What was it? A rat? I hate rats!! Jack made a startled sound and his hands went up to this neck, fluttering around at the movement he felt there. He didn't cry out, but made a worried little sound as he felt along the metallic necklace, confused, and anxious, at least it wasn't furry...

Poppy was used to very odd behaviour indeed, but that didn't mean she liked it. She knew how to handle most people too. She briefly wondered whether or not she should call for Albus directly, via floo, or try and frogmarch the interloper back out. How could she do her job if people kept interrupting? "I don't think..."

Snape interrupted, snapping. If he could just get rid of her it would be so much easier. "I think, Poppy," he stressed the syllables easily, "That this is out of your realm of expertise. As Potions Master, and as Head of Slytherin House," and as an acolyte of Voldemort, "I think I may perhaps know more about this than you do." He did. He'd seen the state of the Longbottoms. He decided to try again as he waited to see what she would do. Grim? If you can bloody well hear me and are just ignoring me I swear to gods you won't live to regret it.

Jack stopped fussing with the necklace when he heard, a voice? He quickly looked around for the source of it. No one was next to him, nor near him but he had heard part of his name. Grim. "Heh.... Hello?" he whispered aloud, still looking around. He sent more of a wondering reply mentally, not sure exactly where the source of the voice was coming from, only that he had heard... something.

In her surprise, the mediwitch forgot the man stood in the room and turned her back on him, leaning over to lightly place a hand on his upper arm, and look him in the eyes, as non-threateningly as she could. "Jack? This is Madame Pomfrey..." her bedside manner was impeccable- voice gentle, clear, calm, and easily understood.

Severus Snape was another matter entirely. He stormed up, annoyed with her, and hung a little back from the other side of the bed. Well, at least that was some progress. He wasn't going to be dumb for life then. If Jack started holding a one-sided conversation with him it was going to look a little silly. Though he supposed, if pushed, he could come up with some half-way plausible excuse. He'd have to. Resisting the urge to shake the boy silly, clout him, or thing even less suitable for a Hospital Wing, he waited to watch a minute, seeing what was best.

Jack looked at Madame Pomfrey as she approached him and touched his arm. That meant someone was talking to him. He looked at her, a blank expression on his face, waiting. Had she been the one that had called? It hadn't sounded like her soft voice. When the other person, Sour Man came over to him, he recoiled a bit. He was tall, angry looking and .... pain. He remembered PAIN and that man, that face. Jack stared at Snape for a moment then suddenly his eyes went wide and trembling, he turned away from him, burying his face in Madame Pomfrey's robes, clutching them like a lifeline. "No... no more.... please...." he stammered, then fell silent again.

Poppy hugged the student against her, rocking him slightly, stroking her fingers through his hair, making soft, soothing noises, telling him that he didn't need to worry, everything was going to be fine, he was back at Hogwarts now, and Professor Dumbledore would ensure no harm came to him. She wanted to ask him just what he was obviously afraid of- but with Severus in the room- and with him only just responding, she guessed that now was not the right time. He might close down again and refuse to respond whatsoever. Never stopping her attentions, she looked up to warn Snape about going anywhere near the boy.

A wave of distress about a mile high hit Snape, and he was shocked by the sheer size of it. And then irritated. He'd got Jack out alive- eventually- what more could he bloody well ask of him? These were clearly not issues he could raise right now- and he still didn't feel in the least bit sorry for more than a few, tired moments at a time when it sneaked up on him. But not now. He was feeling self-righteous. Fucking idiot, think I came here to hex you? he mentally snapped, and outwardly fumed. He wasn't leaving til he was forcibly ejected.

Jack seemed to ease at the soothing tones of Madame Pomfrey, the mothering touch and body warmth was doing it's job. He continued to hold onto her, breathing slowing, then the voice came again. It was angry, it was yelling at him, calling him names, threatening him. He tore his face away from Madame Pomfrey and looked around again, eyes wide with panic, looking for the source of the voice. "W-Where?!" he asked, terrified by the unseen threat. He looked around the Hospital Ward, it was empty except for himself and the nurse and the Sour Man. He shuddered as his gaze fell upon Snape's irritable expression, and he made a sound of terror and retreated back against Madame Pomfrey's bosom again.

Alright so this was progress. Not. Snape rolled his eyes heavenwards as Poppy stated asking Jack what was wrong. She wrapped her other arm around his back, stopping him from turning so easily, or running away. Or perhaps shielding him from Snape.

"Severus, would you fetch the Headmaster?" Poppy asked, before turning her attentions back to Jack.

He bristled, furiously, but decided to comply. That way he could talk to him first. "I shan't be a moment," he hissed, and stormed out of the room.

Jack followed the eyes and movement of the Sour Faced Man as he was sent away by the witch, and he eased considerably once he was gone. Jack slowly pulled back from Madame Pomfrey, and then looked around the room again. He was looking for the voice he had heard. "Hello?" he whispered tentatively, mostly to be sure that it was GONE if it was going to scare him like that. He blinked and waited. Nothing. He then turned back to Madame Pomfrey, and gave her a worried expession. He had a feeling she had not heard the voice.

"Yes Jack?" she asked quietly, trying to hide the worry from her face. And succeeding for the most part. She watched everything he did carefully, trying to find clues that could help in his behaviour. The fact he calmed when Snape was gone only served to alloy her suspicions. She was going to make Albus keep Snape away if she could help it.

He looked over at her, thinking, then shook his head. "Gone now." he said, then slumped down in the bed, and pulled the covers over his head, he was suddenly exhausted, and his head was hurting. He made a loud sigh, and pulled the pillow over his head as well.

Surprised, and worried by the rather abrupt behaviour, she made to lean forwards when someone came in through the door. Albus. And someone behind him, being kept out of the room by his standing in the doorway. He'd obviously been on his way to come so fast. He looked at Poppy for a cue on how to act.

Poppy mouthed something at Albus, who nodded, and slid to the bedside. The impatient form behind was under orders and remained where he was for now. The Headmaster reached out a tentative hand and lightly touched where he thought a shoulder would be. "Jack? Do you feel up to talking?"

Jack flinched at the touch, then shivered slightly. He didn't reply. This was a soft voice. A man's voice, but it didn't frighten him like the other one. He heard his name and something about talking. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to sleep, and he was hungry. He decided that thinking REALLY hard about bread and cookies right then would be best, and what he would do.

Snape found himself thinking about bread and cookies, and how hungry he was. It took him a minute to realise the thought wasn't, in fact, his own. He was rather startled. He watched as Albus tried to no avail to get Jack to talk to him, and cleared his voice.

"You might want to try feeding him," Snape suggested, as off-handedly as he could. "He has a... reputation as a gourmand..." he added, by means of feeble explanation. Dammit.

Albus looked up and back with a slight twinkle in his eye. He glanced at Poppy. "Has he been just eating what you give him?" he asked, and reached in his pocket for a bag of sweets. The old Headmaster ALWAYS had a bag of sweets. "Would you like a humbug, Jack?" he asked, and popped one in his mouth. He talked around it. "Ther' verr' nice."

Humbug? Jack thought, what was that? Was he eating it?? It sounded like he had placed something in his mouth. Why would you want to eat a Bug?? he pondered, then curiosity getting the better of him, he pulled the covers back a smidge, and looked in the direction of the muddled sounding voice. His eyes met those of the Old Quiet Man, and he was holding a bag of something. When he saw Jack he offered the back to him. Jack blinked and sniffed. He could smel, sugar! Sweets! He thought then slowly inched out from under the blanket to look into the bag.

I could tell you who would want to eat bugs but you might not like it, and we should be here all night, Snape said, hoping that Jack would get the message and learn to differentiate between spoken and not-spoken. But I assure you that unless the Weasley twins have been experimenting again, there are no insects in there. He didn't move a muscle.

Albus smiled encouragingly, and shook the bag a little. "Only thing is they turn your tongue stripey," the older wizard said, not sounding at all displeased. Poppy watched from behind, a lot happier.

Jack had just started to reach for the bag, willing to try whatever was in there that smelled so good, then he heard the voice again. He paused, his eyes went wide, and he looked between Nurse and Old Man, neither's lips were moving, and they were both just smiling at him. "Hello?" he asked again, lowering his hand and looking around the room again. His eyes stopped on the form of Sour Man in the door way, he was looking right at him. He lost himself in that dark penetrating stare, held there for a moment.

Yes alright, give the boy a gold star. Just stop speaking aloud will you? They're going to get suspicious. Talk about banging your head against a brick wall. This was worse than getting First Year Hufflepuffs to hold test tubes above flames. Snape didn't blink once, hands wrapped together before him, still.

Albus looked up and back at Snape, and then to Jack. "Here, you can have the bag, if you like. I have plenty more." He placed the bag in Jack's hands, and sat back a little.

Jack looked down away from Sour Man when the bag was placed in his hands, and he looked down into it. They certainly looked edible, and tentatively, he reached inside, pulled one out and placed it into his mouth. A second or two later a smile spread out on his face and he chomped down the treat. He nodded his appreciation, then grabbed another, it was devoured in record time, then another. He smiled at Old Man and Nurse. This was alright.

Typical. Feed him and he's happy, Snape thought, but only to himself. He wondered if Poppy would condone sugar blackmail in this case, rather than send him to St Mungos. Probably, but it would be a close run thing. She'd probably set a teeth-brushing rota up.

Albus turned his head, and Poppy leaned down. They said a few quiet things, and she nodded, heading for her workroom to do something or other. Albus ruffled Jack's hair affectionately. "What a marvellous idea, Severus," he commented, but didn't turn around. "You'll be wanting my job next."

Jack settled back down into his bed-nest of blankets and curled up around the bag of candy. He ate a few more before pausing to watch the others as they walked away, then talked amongst themselves. The Invisible Voice was not speaking to him, no one was. He didn't dwell on this long however. Another Humbug was chewed down, then he belched, and sighed. He wasn't really hungry anymore, thirsty if anything. He set the bag aside for a moment and settled back into his pillows again, glancing out the widow at the blowing tree branches beyond.

Snape snorted as if the comment were below any response, and tossed his head slightly. If that was some stupid dig about his supposed ambitions towards the post of Defence teacher (idiotic, as if he'd leave his Potions) he wasn't going to play along. "I pay attention," was all he said.

The attempt at friendliness rebuffed, as usual, Albus turned back to Jack again. "I'm glad to see you so much better, Jack. And I'm sorry but I'm going to have to say goodbye for now. I shall be back later- and Madame Pomfrey will take excellent care of you whilst I am gone." He leaned in closer, with a conspiratorial wink, "And I'll see if I can smuggle you any other sweets in." He sat back up again, Headmaster once more. "Severus, is there anything you'd like to say? I should very much like for you to come with me."

Jack didn't respond this time, he was back to watching the patterns of the pale sunlight on the branches outside of his window. He felt sleepy again, and his headache was waning. Still hungry for bread..... he thought idly, but did not attempt to speak. He sighed, and despite the recent sugar intake, he was dull and sleepy again. He yawned and curled up tighter in his blankets.

Snape paused a moment, thought, shook his head. "No," he said softly. "There's nothing I want to say." Except that you should read Dickens. There's somone there you'd identify with. Communicating like this was too much of a second nature by now for him to stop and control consciously. Unless he was REALLY concentrating. He waited until the Headmaster made his goodbyes, stood up, waved at Poppy, and headed out before moving to walk a half-pace behind, and to the left of the older wizard. At least it was something. Though somehow Severus thought it might take more than cakes to wake Jack up properly.

2002-11-26 16:34:00,"
Run, run like the wind...

An IC RP with Snape and Jack Grim.

Snape set down the quill on his diary, and stared at the page. Bunch of... Argh. He looked up at the clock marking time, cutting it, second by second from him. God knows where it went, but there, another gone. He snorted heavily. He'd procrastinated as long as he could- al the essays were marked in record time, and there was nothing else to busy himself with. He'd been diplomatically warned not to leave his rooms at night. After an age of thought, he finally gave in. Hating himself... Grim? Listen a minute. Don't say anything aloud. Just listen. And think. Don't act any differently from how you just were, do you understand? Yes? Now, are you alone? Snape thought-spoke as though to a very small child. it was only one step above the one sy-lla-ble approach.

Jack opened his eyes a bit wider when the Invisible Voice suddenly was in his head again. He was sitting in a chair, near the window, eating scones with peach butter. He set the scone back down on the place slowly, and even slower, turned to look around the room. He was screened on two sides, hiding him from the rest of the ward and prying eyes. He didn't see anyone around, and listened to what the voice told him. What it told him to do. Hello? came the tentative reply, unsure and silent, he was only moving his lips the slightest bit.

Alright. Perhaps a diagram would help. With nice big stick figures. Yes that would do it. And then he could use the board to thwack him about the head afterwards. His patience was forced. Good evening. I see you've figured out how to think properly. I suppose its a start. Now- is there anyone there or not? I know its a difficult question... He felt stupid keep talking. Extended speech- or thought- only increased the risk of slipping up, or saying something that might be regretted.

Sitting by the window. No one here. I have scones. He thought, then picked up the scone and held it up for the unseen person to see, then took a large bite and chewed it down. Do you want a scone? he asked a moment later, after he was done chewing. It was hard to do the Think-Talk and chew at the same time.

Thank you, he replied as he finally got an answer, but was unable to scrub all the sarcasm from it. He couldn't. Not internally. Not when he was so wound up. Food... again. No I would not like a scone. Thank you. And if I say that word ONE more time I'm... Snape stalked over to the unlit fire and resisted the urge to kick at the ashes there. Has the Headmaster been to see you? Or anyone else?

There was a silence, and the mental feeling of confusion. I don't know.... The Nurse brings me food, the old man brings me sweets. he replied after a moment, then went into a long mental appreciation for the warmth of the sun, the peach butter, and milk.

Snape had many times wished for blissfull oblivion, ignorance was bliss, after all, but one look at the simple, half-dead (to him, at least) mentality was enough for him to embrace even suicidal tendancies if it meant he could keep his wits. Yes that would be the Headmaster. Has he asked you anything? And I mean other than what sweets you would like. Perhaps if he asked the question twice to begin with it wouldn't take as long.

Jack was busy eating, and he was begining to get the hand of this Think-talking thing. He has come to talk, yes. He ask's me who hurt me. he paused there for a moment, mulling that over in his head. But, I don't hurt. I am just... afraid. he added a beat later, sounding quite unsure and nervous.

Well if you slept long enough of course you shouldn't hurt any more. It was only prolonged exposure of a good many years that grained it in that deep. The human body was surprisingly good at recuperating, and forgetting the sensation of pain. Defence mechanisms. Jack's reply made sense. Afraid of what? he asked.

Jack had to think about that, several images flew across his memory and a distressed look came over his face as he recalled them, at last he tried to convey just what it was that scared him so. The Man in Black. came the slowly reply. It was not unlike a child telling a parent about the Bogeyman under the bed. He hurt me. he added, then went quiet.

Snape struggled to process a lot of jumbled information at once- it was giving him a headache. Long fingers pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose in an attempt to focus. He was silent a long time. And you think he'll do it again. A statement, rather than a question.

Jack thought about this, for a long moment before replying I don't know. I guess he would. He was so angry. <i/> he thought, then setting his food aside, he put his face in his hands and began to shake. The image was playing over and over in his memory. The pain, the fear, laying there in the street in Hogsmeade, twisting with pain. Then the face of the man....

Snape wanted to take a wire brush and shove it in his ear it only it would make the bloody mess in there STOP. Stop it stop it... Oh yes backing away would help. Hadn't he been harping on about taking responsibility for one's actions? On more than one occasion? Maybe he had a reason, Snape thought, sulkily. He desperately thought about ways of changing the subject.

Jack's communication had deteriorated into just emotional freefall. There were no words, just emotions, fear, hurt, betrayal and pain. He was crying now, softly into the palms of his hands, and after a moment he felt a light touch on his shoulder and someone calling his name, but he didn't look up.

Please, please be quiet, Snape pleaded. It was hard enough he had to deal with his own emotions without anybody elses. Yet more proof of why being solitary was a GOOD thing- you never had to face someone else's mood. He rubbed a cold palm over his face, to concentrate on himself, here, now. It didn't help much, just made him colder. He wondered what Albus would do if he marched over there and blitzed Jack's memory entirely. He could say it was a mercy shot- if cowardly and below the belt. But what else did they expect of him? In fact, they would be surprised he hadn't attempted it already. And they wouldn't lock him up for that if they didn't when he came back from slaughtering and torturing and humiliating people. Would they?

I am so scared. I am so scared.</i > he telegraphed, and continued to cry. "Jack... Jack please... tell me what's wrong?" came the soft voice in his ear, accompanying the stroking on his back. Jack lifted a hand and tried to chase away the soothing touch, he just wanted to be alone. To hide, to have it all end.

Who are you? came the question a moment later. The hands on his shoulders were gone. Small feet in hard shoes were quickly leaving him to summon another. Good, they are gone now.... he thought, then lifting his head up and wiping his eyes on his sleeve, he looked out the window again. I want to go away.... and hide.

What a loaded question. But Snape figured Jack wanted his name, rather than the existential version. Severus Titus Snape, Potions Master. His full formal title was actually a good deal longer, but he didn't care for half his titles. Saying his name seemed to settle him somewhat. Hard, solid fact. Then... Who is gone? You said there was no one there! Oh for chrissakes... Look. What did you tell them? Don't worry. They won't do anything to hurt you. Stay put.

What a loaded question. But Snape figured Jack wanted his name, rather than the existential version. Severus Titus Snape, Potions Master. His full formal title was actually a good deal longer, but he didn't care for half his titles. Saying his name seemed to settle him somewhat. Hard, solid fact. Then... Who is gone? You said there was no one there! Oh for chrissakes... Look. What did you tell them? Don't worry. They won't do anything to hurt you. Stay put.

Jack tried to process all the information being sent to him, mixing around with his emotional state, it was a confusing cocktail. I AM alone Severus ... he replied petulantly, I WAS alone, but then someone came over when I was upset. I don't know who. I didn't look, I didn't talk... he said, then went silent for a moment. Everything was shut down but the connection was there, like silence on a phone line. I've made you made too.... I can tell. he sighed. I can feel it, inside. he added, then silence again. Jack left his chair and crawled back into his bed, pulling the covers over his head again. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, but did not begin to cry again.

Snape calmed down a little. Not much, but a little. He shuddered when his first name was used, choking on it as it went down. People only really called him by it when they were shouting at him. Even if their words and tones were kind. He knew, deep down, they were laughing at him. He was radiating his usual maelstrom of confused, mixed responses, struggling to keep a lid on them. No. I'm always mad. True. If they speak to you again its probably best not to ignore them. They might worry.

I don't know what to say to them, I can't say everything. I want to be alone, I want to be where it's dark and quiet. Like a cave. I like caves, I think.... he thought, then took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. What followed was unspoken curiousities, Jack was wondering who Severus was, where he lived, was he young like him, or old like the man with the candy. He sent nothing more, and just allowed himself to slip into a daze again.

You can't tell everyone everything, Snape agreed. Sometimes they don't like the truth. And sometimes it is for their own good. Hm. A cave sounded good right about now. With a rock to roll over the entrance. You and me both. He was having to resist the urge to scuff at the floor. So he walked over to the wall, and placed his palm flat, wondering if he could drawn any comfort from that.

I won't tell them anything. I don't want to, they wouldn't understand. You do. I think. I don't know. he was thinking in a stream of continuous thought. A cave, I will find one. I will let you know when I do.... he sent, then nothing again. Only thoughts of running and getting away to hide.

Oh I understand alright. I understand pain and I understand fear and I understand being let down. Perfectly well. I could write the book. That was what Snape wanted to say. He also wanted to disembowl himself and commit hari kari- but he'd never had the guts (no pun intended) for that. instead, he sent a non-commital grunt, and opened the wall. Stared. I think I found mine.

There was no reply to Snape's comment from Jack. He was not there in more ways then one. When Madame Pomfrey returned a moment later with Albus, they found the window near his bed lifted open and the stunned boy gone. "ALBUS!" she shrieked, looking at the empty bed, and covering her mouth with her hand. Albus' eyes, normally calm, showed extreme worry as he looked outside of the window and the empty grounds beyond. "He's gone Poppy...." he said sadly, then turned and left the Hospital Wing, heading for the dungeons.

Snape slunk into the long tunnel and walked until he couldn't see either end. It was sparse, spartan, dark, empty, cold, hollow. What more could he ask? He didn't follow that train of thought, but didn't settle down either. No. He couldn't. He glared at the wall, accusingly, as if it would help him somehow. Or it was to blame. It looked mutely back at him."

2002-11-27 16:24:00,
Here I am, here I stay...

An IC PR with Snape and Jack Grim.

Albus left the room, ostensibly to continue with his 'search' but Snape knew better than to do anything that could be regarded in the least as suspicious. He bustled about in drawers getting things, and went through a pile of old essays to find one he hadn't returned to Jack. Doing this, he reached out mentally. Grim?

Hello? Severus? Is that you? came the reply a moment later. He sounded unsure, tired perhaps and slow to respond.

In marked contrast to the single question, Snape launched directly into a rushed torrent, the thoughts tumbling out headlong like a landslide. Yes, its me. Who else in the seven names of Azareth could it possibly be? Where in the blue blazes are you? The Headmaster just told me you went Absent Without Leave. He was so irritated he dropped his wand, cursed aloud, and bent to pick it up. Well if anyone was listening he sounded 'normal'.

There was a pause in the communication, then a moment later, I wanted to get out for a while, and so I did. You are angry at me, I can tell. It's cold here, and no food, but it looks like someone lived here once before. I found a way to make a fire, so I am not cold.... he narrated. Who is Azareth? Ishe a friend of yours too? he inquired after a pause. He sounded quite tired from the way hecommunicated.

I should hope not! Azareth is one of the seraphim. Didn't they teach you anything? Snape was running out of stalling tactics so he summoned a House Elf. A moment later he carried on. One does not simply 'get out for a while' just because one feels one would like to. Do you have any idea of the trouble you caused? Of course I'm angry. I just got drafted in on a manhunt! Now, WHERE are you?

There was a long silence now, and Jack seemed to be considering things carefully. Is everyone angry at me, and looking for me? he asked after a few moments time. He looked around the cave he was standing in, and then shaking his head, wiped at his eyes. Maybe I will just stay here. There's no food though...

Answer the bloody question. From your diversionary skills I should say you were destined for a highly placed job in the Ministry's If you stay there you will only make matters worse. Now stopacting the fool and bloody well come back. Yes he was irritated. And not feeling much like negotiating.

It's a long walk.... he mentally sighed. Maybe later I will. I have to try to remember the way. I am out from a village. It was a busy village, lots of people. He paused again, looking around at his surroundings. It's a cave, I just found it. Somehow I knew where it was. Strange... He then went off on a non verbal sort of rant, sadness, loneliness and forlorn thoughts. Thoughts of being hungry.

Snape's mind was deeply ingrained with order. Even if it did get deranged from time to time. Things went in certain places. Things led to other things. It made sense, and everything was in moderation. Dealing with such a confused, less-fluent, more, well, primitive and less coherent mind was derailing him and interfering with his concentration. I don't think you understood me. You don't have a choice. if you don't come back, we will find you and bring you back. For your own good. The House Elf stood watching a Snape lost in thought, until he waved a hand to make it wait, Frustrated again.DON'T go back to the village.

Again, there was a long pause before a response. OK, shall I stay here then? I can stay here until you find me or I starve to death, he shot back petulantly. I suppose I could... oh, nevermind. He sighed. Silence again.

I don't suppose you can draw me a map? No, of course not, that would be asking too much, Snape groused, and dropped the bundle of things into the House Elf's hands. It nearly dropped them, not anticipating it. "The Headmaster's Office," he snapped. I suppose you better had stay there if you don't know the way back. But you should be aware of the ramifications of what you have done Grim. Very very aware. What on earth possessed you?

There started to come over as a reply, a mental image of where he had walked. Across the Hogwart's grounds, through the gates and down a path. Hogsmeade, then he slipped along back streets and down side paths, through Knockturn Alley, then out to Hogsmeade proper again, then to a path leading out of town. Suddenly the images stopped as Snape's ire grew. I don't think I want to come back... Good bye Severus. I will be all right out here, he sent after a moment of sorrow from the scolding.

The House Elf had already left the room when Snape sent a blast of rage, and yelled, "OH FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY!" One slim hand slammed down hard on the desk, and sent a wash of pain up along his arm. Jack L. Grim you bloody well tell me where you are because otherwise I'll hunt you down like the dog you are and drag you back kicking and screaming by your bloody two- toned hair! Do you hear me? Things then regressed into a wordless cry of frustration and annoyance. That that would make matters worse didn't seem to occur to him. He was much too annoyed.

That's why! That's why! I won't! I don't want to be hurt! You were the one! You were the one who hurt me! I won't come back, EVER! I remember it all now. I hear it in my head and I can see it... his thoughts trailed off to nothing but despair, then, I can see it all again and again...Oh God... then silence. He hadn't shut the link, but seemed to have shut down mentally. In reality, he was curled up in a foetal position on the poor bed in the corner of the cave, shivering.

If you did as you were told and supposed to in the first place you WOULDN'T you moron! You don't have a choice. You ARE coming back whether you like it or not! Snape stormed out of his office, through the classroom, and started heading to Albus' office. So help him if he wasn't going to cast a tracking spell already and run there if needs be. So what if it was me? Complaining about it won't change anything. Wha's done is done. And a long time coming too. Too many people living in their nice little padded, cotton wool clouds...

Jack didn't answer, he remained where he was, curled up and shivering. He wasn't going to move from that spot unless dragged by... Him? The Angry Severus who had hurt him in the past and sounded like he would again? He closed his eyes, and just willed himself to sleep, to find darkness, and a mental place to hide, while he still could.

2002-11-28 14:51:00,
Lost Boy

Jack rolled over and sniffed in his sleep. The cave was chilly, but not unbearably so. He was sleeping on a cot-like bed with a couple of old and quite ragged blankets for cover. The bit of magickal fire that was kept burning provided a bit of heat and a strangely hued light. He settled down again, then muttered something as he slept, and dreamed.

Albus did not become Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry for no reason. He had garnered enough from Snape- and from his own thinking- to eventually bring him to the hideaway he'd secreted Sirius in not too long ago. He'd been cautious about bringing the Potions Master here, but the hideaway was no longer secure. Worst came to the worst he could always... well. There were ways. But Severus had insisted, and he had eventually relented.

 The other man was behind him, but only just, and champing at the metaphorical bit. He looked like a barely reined-in horse, ready to bolt.

 The Headmaster did a quick, covert check for hexes, curses, and anything else, calling out softly, "Jack?"

 Jack stirred in his sleep, and since he had slept a long while, and was now starving again, he rolled over toward the sound of the voice, and his pale eyes slowly fluttered open. He blinked a few times as they focused, and then set upon the two people in the room. He reacted with an alarmed, wide-eyed expression and slowly sat up on the bed, drawing the tattered covers up in front of himself as a pathetic form of shielding. "How.... how did you find me?" he asked softly, then his eyes shot to the dark, and ominous form of Severus Snape, and he trembled.

 "A mutual friend," Albus said, watching Jack's eyes carefully- ready to make sure he was not being threatening, if the boy's attention drew back to himself. "I make it a personal matter to attend to the safety of each of my charges."

 Snape stiffened slightly at that, and was not in the slightest convinced by all of the Headmaster's rhetoric. He was outwardly composed, the irritation simmering gently- an even keel. That was how his mind was, too. Balanced, at the minute. He watched, seemingly unaffected. But thought very quietly, I told you so.

 Jack looked for all intents and purposes like his kindred animal, a trapped dog. He looked back and forth between the too men, and the silent taunt only made him feel more uneasy. "I don't want to go back." he stated. He was sure they weren't going to listen, but he was trying to state his case clearly. "He.... he will hurt me..." he said a moment later, indicating Snape with a flicker of his pale eyes.

 A flash of irritation coursed through Snape, but it wasn't visible. Maybe Albus could sense it, but he didn't know. He started to reply, but a raised hand silenced him, and he settled back on his heels.

 "Well you can hardly stay here, Jack, and I assure you Professor Snape will not lay a finger on you- even if you forget your homework. Isn't that right, Severus?" The Headmaster turned to the professor, smiling a little too broadly.

 Snape didn't reply either way, but the slight, low growl indicated he thought otherwise.

 Albus ignored it and turned back. "There." He had apparently taken that as an affirmative.

 Jack's breathing was quickening, and he looked pleadingly at Albus, "The Old Man" and started to speak, but stopped. It did no good. He had tried to get him to talk, then when he did, he didn't listen. He closed his mouth, and looked down at his lap. He sighed, "I can stay here. I will be alright." he said as another try at an arguement for his independence but he was reasonably sure it would be denied.

Albus was about to attempt to convince Jack of why this was not such a good idea when Snape decided he'd had enough. Pussyfooting about and walking on eggshells never worked. He interrupted without moving.

 "Take a moment, Mr Grim, and reflect. You are, are you not, still living, breathing, and in possession of some form of mental control? I hesitate to use words such as 'complete' or 'normal'..." He paused just short of walking forwards, and didn't look at the other man. He couldn't right now.

 Albus watched, still standing a little between the two, and quietly alert. He let this play out for a minute longer.

 Jack looked at Snape, and after listening to what he said, and doing his best to process the complicated combination of words, he opened his mouth and then said quietly, "I am sure I am...." he said resolutely, then waited for Snape, or the other to continue. He looked between the two men again, wondering if he bolted for the exit of the cave, if he would make it.

 Snape settled, seemingly a little appeased by the admission. In his eyes, that explained everything, and needed no further comment. He looked over at Albus for confirmation, slightly calmer now.

"Of course you are, of course you are," Dumbledore said, his voice calm and gentle. "And we want nothing but that you remain that way. Now please, I am sure this can be discussed much more

Jack sighed again, and cast another wanting glance at the exit to the cave, then back at Albus. He belived the Old Man, he had never been anything but nice to him, and had given him sweets besides. "I don't remember much of anything..." he said at last. "I don't know much of anything." he muttered, then tossed the blankets off of him, and slid down from the bed.

Albus held out one large, warm hand. Invitingly. He didn't advance, however. "Do not worry, my boy. I'm sure that we'll have you back to normal soon..." He threw a warning glance at Snape, over Jack's head.

Snape bit his bottom lip to avoid commenting. The sooner they got bac to the castle the better. He felt-- well. He preferred it there.

Jack moved like a nervous animal, and slowly approached Albus. He peered around at his hand, looking for something. Sweets perhaps? He sniffed, animal-like as he approached, then held out his hand to the ancient man. Something about him was reassuring, and something, someone he could trust. He touched his hand to Albus's then looked at his robes, still looking for something. Then, once Albus was holding his hand warmly, he looked over at Snape warily.

Albus smiled, a little relieved that Snape hadn't managed to ruin things, for once. He squeezed gently with his hand, and started guiding Jack to the cave's entrance. Snape was still loitering there, and was forced to step aside, and put his back to the wall, to give them room to pass. He was only refraining from mental contact with extreme difficulty, with the equivalent of teeth grating.

"Shall we go home, then?" Albus asked.

Jack walked along with Albus, and shied away from Snape as they passed by him and his glare. He turned his attention from him however and to Albus as he was addressed. "Can I have, Sir...?" he started to say, then blushed and looked down at the ground as the walked along.

"Hm? What was that?" the older wizard asked, looking down and scrunching his nose a little to get his half-moon glasses at just the right angle. "What is it you want?" He seemed genuinely interested.

Snape was stalking about four paces behind, hands laced behind his back, eyes boring into the back of Jack's head- then switching to Albus'- then back. He didn't miss a beat.

Jack looked up at Albus, and his smiling expression, and didn't feel afraid to ask him for something. "I was wondering.... if you had more of the Humbugs..." he said, then smiled his best, wide, and winning smile. He was completely precious looking when he did that, despite the dirt smudges and unkempt hair.

Albus laughed, a deep, basso sound. "My dear boy," he ruffled his hair, still chuckling. "I'm afraid I'm all out of humbugs at the minute. However... I do happen to have some rather magnificent sasparilla drops... Hmm yes, one does need a change." He rummages in his robes, before pulling out a slightly battered looking brown paper bag. Smoothed his beard with one hand, as he held them out with the other. "Do try one."

Everything was obviously back to normal, Snape thought with an internal groan. He despaired. Truly, he did. For what he didn't know, but it was there. When the bag was offered to him he shook his head vigorously, and when it was pushed in further, he pushed it back at the Headmaster. Shook his head again, but said nothing, leaving his thoughts unvoiced for now.

Jack beamed at the sight of the candy, and after taking a handful, started eating them eagerly. He was famished, and like his animal familiar, as long as you feed him, he was all right with spending time with you. He munched on the candy, then ventured a look over his shoulder at Snape, and gave him a curious look before looking ahead to where he was being taken.

2002-11-30 16:07:00,
A New Home

Well, Here I am. I am back at the Castle School, and now I am staying in a small room near the room of The Old Man, Albus Dumbledore. It has a bed, a desk, a lav and shelves of books, and a fireplace. It is quite warm and pleasant.

Albus Dumbledore, he is the Headmaster of the school, and has given me this nice room, with the small window. (I can't fit out of it) and a journal to write down the things I remember about me.

There isn't much yet. I am hungry now any way. Maybe I will remember something after I eat.