Omni (omni_sama) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2009-08-07 13:22:00 |
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Current mood: | busy |
Entry tags: | fic: pg13 |
Fic: The Dance of Knives (part 1 of 2; PG-13)
Title: The Dance of Knives
Part: 1 of 2
Author: Omni (aka rip_von_christ...me!)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None, really...mentions of sex, but nothing explicit.
Synopsis: Two men have become trapped in a never-ending dance. It is a painful dance, filled with sharp pain and aching pleasure. Watch, and you'll see how it's done. See, the tempo starts off rather slow, the partners moving away, then coming together, then moving away. Like the waves on the shore.
1975
The classroom was empty, except for two boys who were almost men. Late afternoon sunlight cut through the room in beams of copper, drawing grids across the desks, the floor, the walls, and even the figure of one of the boys. The other boy stood outside of the light, lingering near the closed door as if prepared to flee.
“Severus…”
“Shut up.” Slowly, the boy in the light lifted his head and glared at the one in the shadows. That slanted sunlight turned black eyes rusty brown and made fire dance on glossy black hair. Despite this, there was no warmth in the boy’s expression. The boy in the shadows shuddered from its chill.
“Please. You have to believe me.”
“No. I don’t have to do anything of the sort.”
In contrast to the light, the shadows drained color from the other boy’s hair and eyes, dulling their honeyed tones. He was pale, and looked like he could faint at any moment. Perhaps there was a time when the black-haired boy would have worried, but that time had passed.
“I didn’t know he was going to do that… Please, I had nothing to do with it. Severus…”
“How long have you been with him?”
“What?” The question was unexpected, and the shadowed boy stared without comprehension.
“How long?”
“We aren’t…”
“You still want to lie to me?”
A pale hand grabbed the back of a chair in order to hold the shadowed boy upright, and his fingers touched the rays of light. He couldn’t feel their warmth. “It isn’t like that. He’s not who I… Severus, what you and I ha—”
“How. Long.”
Darkened brown eyes squeezed closed, unable to face the glowing, glowering boy in front of him. “Third Year.”
“That’s a long time. I’m so very happy for you.”
A scarred throat swallowed at the lump that formed within it. “It isn’t the same with him. I…I don’t want…” His eyes opened, pleading and on the verge of tears. It didn’t matter that he was too old for such a childish display. Nothing seemed to matter in that moment, except for the other boy to understand. “I’m trapped.”
“No. You’re afraid. And weak.” If anything, the contempt and disgust only continued to grow in the eyes of the boy in the light. He moved, striding angrily through the light and shadows, not even brushing the other as he passed. The door slammed behind him, and the dust in his wake swirled madly through the beams of light.
No one saw the tears of the one left behind.
______
1981
The classroom was empty, except for two men who were barely more than boys. There were no windows for sunlight, only the flickering glow of candles, torches, and a fire beneath a simmering cauldron. On the outskirts of the light, shadows danced like restless demons. Black hair obscured one man’s face, as he leaned over the cauldron and carefully stirred the contents. The other man stood in the open doorway, unsure if he’d even be allowed inside.
“What are you doing here, Lupin?” The hand stirring the brew never paused in its motions, each rotation carefully counted by sharp black eyes.
Nervous hands picked at cuffs of a fine, dark amber robe—a gift, just as everything he owned seemed to be. “I heard you were teaching here, now. Just thought I’d come see for myself.”
“Ah, so I’m some kind of sideshow exhibit, am I?” There was nothing betraying in the brewer’s tone. It came out flat and emotionless.
“No. Can’t I miss you? Can’t I want to see you?”
The hand on the stirring rod almost faltered, but then continued on as if the man were unfazed. “How could you have time to? Surely your master keeps you well-occupied. Besides, I’m hardly the sort of company your friends would wish you to keep.”
“It’s true, then?” Ignoring the comment about a master, the nervous man stepped away from the door. “That you’re a…”
Black eyes shot a quick glare up at the other man, and a thin lip curled in revulsion. “I see. So, really, you’ve come to hunt down another Death Eater. Wanting to add to the growing body count your lover is creating, are we? Or maybe you thought you’d just wrap me up as a gift to him.”
Golden brown eyes looked stricken, the flames of the room making them flash a thousand different tones. “God, no. Severus, what happened… Why would you… How could…”
“Leave.”
“No.” The visitor took a shaky breath, and seemed to compose himself. “Severus, I’m sorry; I won’t ask about that anymore… Honestly, I don’t care.”
A scoff echoed off the cold stone of the walls, and the potion was suddenly abandoned to die. Black robes flowed wraithlike around the potions master as he moved with uncanny speed towards the unwelcome guest. “You do. Of course you do. No doubt you probably have some deluded visions of being able to ‘save’ me. But look at you! You can’t even save yourself.”
They were close now, an arm’s length apart. If one reached out, he could pull the other to him. The visitor’s hand twitched at the thought, but he did nothing. “I’m not here to save you. Or, at least, not only you.”
“What nonsense are you spewing now, wolf?”
“I made a mistake, when we were kids. I know that. I’ve always known that. Severus, I want things to change. I want to try again…”
The room was filled with sudden, cruel laughter, and it slammed into the visitor like a punch to the gut. “Are you listening to yourself? My God, you sound like a woman! Try again? Whatever for? Why would I want to be with a lying, spineless, two-timing bastard like you? Am I to be your dirty little secret again? Your second fiddle? Or perhaps I’ll get the incredible honor of being your first, and Black can serve as second for a time. Or,” here, he smiled, and it was made of bitter venom, “maybe you just want some way of hurting him a little, after all he’s done to you. Poisoning the others against you. Making everyone suspect you of treachery.”
“How did—”
“There are many things I know, Lupin.”
“Then one would think you know the truth.”
“Concerning?”
It was the visitor’s turn to move with sudden speed, reaching out and pulling the brewer towards him. Their mouths collided with a click of teeth and a crush of lips. It hurt, but he didn’t care. He clung to black robes and kissed until he felt a response. Despite all the previous protesting, the response was quick to come. Hungry, desperate, they would hold on to each other throughout the night and try to pretend it could last.
Neither of them ever suspected that the following morning would bring news of their entire world having changed overnight.
______
1993
The classroom was empty, except for two professors, one a seasoned veteran while the other was a green-horned rookie. Outside, the sun was dying, and its blood poured into the room through the windows. The rookie was at his desk, bent over parchment as he scribbled corrections. When the light caught his hair, it made the strands erupt into a million different shades of red and gold. Except for the streaks of grey, which remained stubbornly dull. Every step the veteran made echoed off of the room’s high ceiling as he strode towards the desk. In his hand he held a goblet filled with foul-smelling greenish brew. The very stench of it made the man at the desk shudder slightly as he set down his quill.
“Hullo, Severus. Thank you.” A warm smile was offered in return for the potion, which was set upon his desk with a dull click.
Without saying a word, the seasoned professor turned away and started back towards the door.
Jumping to his feet, the rookie downed his potion and quickly rushed to stop the other from leaving. “Wait. Severus, wait.”
The black shoes came to a stop, and matching robes rippled above them as the fabric continued trying to move forward. “I’m busy.”
“How can you be like this? Severus, you’ve hardly spoken more than three words to me since I arrived.” A scarred hand dared to touch a black-shrouded arm, but was not brave enough to hold it. The fingers merely caressed the fabric in hesitance tinged with longing. “You aren’t still holding that grudge from school…?”
The other professor tried to shrug the touch off, but the fingers clasped the fabric of his robe in response. Breath hissed from crooked teeth, thin lips drawn back in a sneer of outrage. “Unhand me.”
“No. Not until you talk to me.”
“So help me, if you do not release me this instant…”
“You’ll what?”
Their eyes met, one set hopeful while the other was nothing but dark disdain. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what I would do.”
“Try me.”
“I did. I’ve had better.”
All of the niceness shattered like a dried shell from around the rookie, leaving a furious beast in his place. Snarling, he jerked at the other man’s arm, drawing him closer and forcing him to turn so they could fully face one another. “Why are you being so goddamn childish? What’s your problem now? It can’t be Sirius, because you know he’s out of the equation. So, what is it?”
The veteran stared at his colleague, seeming thoroughly unimpressed by such an aggressive display. “How can I be so certain Black is truly out of the picture? I still maintain the possibility that you’re serving as accomplice.”
“You do not! You cannot honestly stand there and tell me that you think I’d help someone who brought about the death of so many.”
“I can stand here and tell you whatever I damn well please.”
The rookie grasped the man’s other arm, but the anger was starting to be drowned out by desperation. “Just tell me what it is this time. Why does it feel like you hate me even more, now?”
A silence crept in and wrapped around them like the coils of a snake. It was suffocating and oppressive, and it made the rookie’s fingers start to slacken as his hope choked to death. Just as the silence was starting to get to be too much, the veteran spoke. His voice was quiet, but lacked the breathiness of a whisper. More like the muted murmurs found within confessionals. “You left.”
Warm brown eyes searched a sallow face, but it was like trying to read something written in a foreign language. “I did, yes. I had to.”
“No word from you. For years. And suddenly I’m supposed to what? Throw my arms open wide and welcome you back with a smile? Honestly, have you lost the ability to think like a rational human being, since being turned into a werewolf?”
Slack fingers slowly curled in black fabric, tightening their hold once again. “I didn’t think you wanted me to write. You certainly did not try to contact me prior to my leaving. There was a good bit of time there when I was still in Britain. Granted, I had become homeless and had to move around a bit in order to try to find a job… But still, a smart man like you, I’d expect you’d be able to find a way of contacting me if you really wanted to.”
“And why should I be the one who has to make the first move?”
“You aren’t. You weren’t. I had made the first move by visiting you. I had thought perhaps that night meant there was a chance. But, after James and Lily…and everything…you seemed to shut yourself away from the rest of the world. Three of my best friends had just died, and the man who had once been my lover was behind it, and yet I didn’t even receive a note of sympathy from you. Nothing.”
“What did you want, a greeting card?” The black-clad man broke free of the other’s grasp and stepped just out of arm’s reach. “You think you were the only one in pain at that time?”
“Why would…” Confusion shone in the brown eyes, battling for dominance amongst all of the other roiling emotions. “Don’t tell me you were upset over Vold—”
“That’s enough.” The veteran’s voice had come out loud and harsh, as if he were reprimanding an entire class instead of just one man. They stared at each other in tense silence for a moment, and then the man in black made his exit.
In only one month’s time, old acquaintances would return, forcing the rift between them even wider.
______________
To be continued