In Academia
Part 1 - The King of Serpents
By Sushi
Author's Note: Part of the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest (response to: Scenario #32: Hogwarts holds some sort of quiz/comp/gameshow. How competitive is Snape, and who is his rival? What will he do to make sure he wins?; and Easy Pairing #23: Snape/Avery.) I have taken Certain Liberties with the canon timeline. Specifically, Rita Skeeter is now a year younger than Our Boys. I don't hear her complaining.
DISCLAIMER: I don't owns 'em. That's J.K. Rowling, don'chaknow. I just slips 'em out in the dead of night and makes 'em have little tea parties. Don't sue me. It'll all done in fun, I don't make a penny from my efforts (as the world at large seems so intent to remind me), and the most valuable thing I have is a kitten. If you sue me, she'll be sad. Do you hate kittens?
In Academia
Part 1 - The King of Serpents
By Sushi
He'd gotten bored with the staring contest three first years into the Sorting. There was no chance in HELL he was going to let Sirius Black win, though. Severus narrowed his eyes. Black returned the favour. Severus straightened his spine - even sitting, he towered three inches over any other Slytherin. A small smirk turned his mouth; he'd always win.
A blink threatened. Five minutes of holding his eyes open had taken its toll in the tears that had long since stopped flowing. Only a little more. Sirius couldn't hold out forever. Suddenly, he saw it; the dark blue flickered pink, and Sirius cursed to himself. Severus grinned and savoured several seconds of moist tears behind soothing eyelids. Lucius chuckled.
"That's, what, five hundred and four to a hundred and sixty-seven?"
"How the fuck should I know? It's not like I keep count. Besides," he ran a single long finger up Lucius' thigh under the table, "It's five hundred and five to a hundred and sixty-six." His wicked, knowing smile was quickly mirrored by Lucius, Evan, and Emeric Avery. It reminded him just how much all the little Slytherins needed him to keep them whole. Severus felt a little guilty - after this year there would be no shining dark star for them to look up to. The first young viper of the year, a boy named Anthony Flint, was sent into the clutch; Snape clapped and whistled with the rest.
It gave Severus no small pleasure to see the second years pointing towards him soon after Anthony sat down. Walden Macnair in fifth year kept stabbing at the air, describing something or other. Flint's eyes grew wider and wider, darting over the seventh years but always, always flickering back to Snape. That's right, you know who I am: your lord and master. He caught the boy's eye, held it just long enough to make him shrink, then broke his stony gaze with a smile. Anthony drooped, grinning back. Oh, too bad, mate. What happened? Densaugeo gone wrong or did your mummy shag a horse? Not that Severus' teeth were utterly perfect - they were just uneven enough to be interesting, just odd enough to give him the impression of fangs - but all told it was a minor flaw.
Anthony was quickly followed by Polly Grune, Alexander Holyfield, and a rather pretty black-haired boy named Leo Lender. He greeted them as he had Flint. They melted.
"Lupin, Romulus," called McGonagall. Lucius groaned. Adam - Wilkes - snorted.
"Another fucking Gryffindor."
Another fucking werewolf, more like. Not that Snape would say it. He didn't fancy expulsion, not after six years of fighting tooth and nail to become the King of Serpents. He glanced at Remus, who jumped up to hug the simpering little cur. "Yup, another fucking Gryffindor."
Severus fidgeted testily through the rest of the Sorting. The concept of two lycanthropic monsters running freely about the school turned his normally lush, tea-coloured skin rust with caged rage.
The last Sorted, an odd, pale young Slytherin named Boniface Zabini, left Severus strangely dissatisfied. His pleasant mood had been gutted and, whenever that happened, it took rather a lot to prevent him from finding someone on whom to vent his rage. He did so verbally, of course - he'd never stoop to the level of violence like Lucius' little sixth year pets. Crabbe and Goyle were squinty, ugly, and better suited to grunt and punch than to tie their shoes. Severus avoided them like vermin. Lucius glanced at him and immediately put his hand on Snape's leg, stroking it slowly and soothingly. It was either that or risk being the chosen target.
"I have a few words that may be of interest," Dumbledore said calmly. The room quieted down. Severus scowled at the headmaster. What? Are vampires going to be admitted along with the rest of the abominations now? "I'm pleased to announce the first ever Hogwarts Academic Bowl. This will be a year-long competition to challenge the best and brightest." Snape perked up - best and brightest? A low murmur ran through the Hall; Dumbledore held up his hand for silence. "I'm afraid it shall only be open to seventh year students." A few cries of "No fair!" and "Why?" rose up. The headmaster smirked wryly.
"I assure you, once you hear some of the questions you won't be so eager to join." He waited a moment for any dissent. There was a tense, unspoken grumble, but nothing more. "Good, good. Any seventh year who wishes to try his or her brain should report to the Charms classroom this Saturday at one in the afternoon for the tryout exam. Results will be posted the following Friday, with up to five competitors chosen from each House. The first round will take place the second of November, with subsequent rounds announced through the year."
McGonagall tugged on Dumbledore's sleeve and whispered something conspiratorially under the murmur of semi-interested students. His eyes twinkled knowingly. "Ah, Professor McGonagall has reminded me," he said in a way that made clear to Severus that he'd not needed reminding at all, "that there might be some advantage to giving prizes for this sort of thing. Well, while the glory and prestige of winning should be enough for most, there may be one or two of you who would like some other form of reward. So... hmm, let me think." He tapped his fingers against a wrinkled cheek. Snape yawned. The Slytherins around him chuckled; they stopped when the bright sky eyes caught them playfully. "Perhaps... a House-only Hogsmeade weekend for all permitted students, a special end-of-year whole-House celebration, and a five-hundred Galleon gift certificate to the Diagon Alley shop of choice for the winner would entice you?"
A hush fell over the room, followed half a second later by a roar of chatter and excitement. Severus raised his eyebrows smugly. Despite James Potter stealing his rightful spot as Head Boy (through Gryffindor bias, no doubt, their marks being virtually identical), there wasn't a student in the school who could out-think, out-test, or out-do Severus Snape. The victory was as good as his. While Lucius patted him on the back, and the rest of the table spat saccharine words of confidence, he pondered vaguely how he could get the money transferred to the apothecary in Knockturn Alley.
No time for that now, though. It would be just like a Gryffindor for him to focus purely on that. There were far more interesting things at stake, like the look on Potter's face when he lost. Or the twitch in Black's temple when it was proven, once and for all, that Slytherins were better. Or winning in the first place. His brain smoothly processed his tactics: refresh his intimidating knowledge of things outside the Hogwarts curriculum; spend as much time as possible in the library, gathering information well beyond the call of NEWTs; perhaps conceive a charm or two to help set his thinking into neat, easy rows. Anything more would require knowing the enemy.
Black's indigo eyes, and Potter's brown ones, settled on him. Snape stared back. Oh, he knew his enemy, all right.
They blinked first.
Air kissed his arms and he sighed. Severus had worn that bloody robe since his parents saw him onto the Hogwarts Express for the last time. Coolness teased his dark skin, tickled the patches of black hair under his arms as he folded his hands behind his head. He wriggled contentedly in his cocoon of a bed. "S'good to be back."
"Y'reckon?" Lucius had his robe off, too. His green-and-silver rugby shirt and faded Muggle jeans made an affectedly sloppy contrast to Severus' sleeveless white vest and pleated black trousers. He'd slipped his leather braces off his shoulders and they spread over the bed around his hips. With a quick flick of the wand his shoes untied and he kicked the polished black wingtips to the floor.
"Sure. You try living with Pescennius and Gita Snape all summer and see how glad you are to get back."
"I asked if you wanted to go with us."
Severus turned his head to look coolly at Lucius. "Luc, do you honestly think my dad is going to let me stay away from home all summer, especially out of the country? It was hard enough to talk him into Christmas."
"He's going to have to get used to it pretty soon," Evan piped up, rummaging through his trunk. "I mean, you're not moving back home after school, right?"
"Don't know, I hadn't really thought about it," Severus said casually, stretching. Of course he'd thought about it. He had no intention of going back to the World's Greatest Prat. Honestly, just because there's a big nasty Dark wizard running loose doesn't mean I'm going to flounce off and join him. His father was so bloody paranoid sometimes. It was probably to be expected, being an Auror and all. But, really, why would Severus Snape, the student lord of Slytherin, need to follow someone else to get his laurels?
Lucius snorted. "Right. And I'm a Muggle. You've probably got your whole life planned out."
"Yup, and if you're nice I might even keep speaking to you after I take over the world."
Lucius smirked; the rest of the boys, Evan, Adam, Emeric, and Nagendra, laughed nervously. It took balls to say something like that when Lord Voldemort was grinding his terrorist swathe through the middle of their society. Rosier stuck his head back in his trunk.
"Hey, Lucius, catch." A flat box flew through the air and landed soundly on Malfoy's bed. Lucius snatched it. "Sorry, I was going to give it back on the train."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot! Got you something, Sev." He threw the box at Snape, who stopped it and let it land on his hard stomach. "Wouldn't fit in my trunk. I found it in Texas."
"What, a rattlesnake?" Snape ran his fingers under the tape holding the brown paper closed. The box was rectangular, fairly large but not heavy.
"Ha, ha. D'you think if I had a rattlesnake I'd give it to you?"
"Fair point. You'd probably give it to Potter. In his bed, if we're lucky."
Malfoy snorted and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. "Wonder if it's too late to get one sent over."
Severus had finally gotten the paper peeled off the box. The lid said "Stetson", and when he lifted it off and noisily folded back several layers of tissue, found, "A hat?"
"Yup." Lucius grinned.
"Why the fuck did you get me a hat?" Snape grinned a little, highly amused as he lifted the thing out of the box. To be specific, it was a cowboy hat, solid black, with a narrow tasseled band around the brim. He dropped it on his head; it settled comically above his ears. Lucius yanked it off, tapped it with his wand, murmuring, and set the somewhat larger hat back on Severus' head.
"Yeehaw, ride 'em cowboy," Lucius drawled with a glint in his eye. Snape smirked wickedly.
"Is that a request?"
"Maybe." Malfoy grinned. The others were carefully quiet. They knew better than to complain. Snape plucked the hat off for a moment to inspect it. It was wide and curved, with a triangular indentation in the top. The inner band said, "Carson", and a small brass clasp held together the tasseled outer band. He dropped it over his face and lay back, hands folded on his chest.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
"Budge up, you're hogging the bed."
Severus opened one eye, then the other. Lucius was leaning over him. All around he heard the soft breathing of most of their roommates, Evan's measured snores and snorts and Emeric's soft wheezes breaking the semi-silence. "You took your sweet time."
"Shut up, Sev." Severus squirmed over. The curtains closed, leaving them in perfect darkness. Lucius, dropping his blue dressing gown, slid under the covers and immediately planted his chilly feet on Snape's legs. "Shit. I forgot this place gets so cold."
"That's what you get for running around a desert all summer."
"Hmm." The pale, sleek body pressed against Severus. Lucius was pleasantly cool against his skin. "Speaking of summer, you have turned into a big boy." He prodded one of Snape's upper arms. "Goddamn, Severus, what've you been doing? Lifting elephants?"
Snape slapped a hand over his face. "Cauldrons," he groaned. "Mum made me help out in the shop. Spent the whole time screaming at me. 'Naa! Naa!'" he imitated his mother's high voice, waving his hands in the darkness. Lucius laughed.
"Your mum is such a freak."
"Oi!"
"In a good way! Wish my mum ran an apothecary. I mean, you've got all those ingredients to mess with, and with your dad's library... you could cook up some serious shit, y'know? Seriously, you must have the coolest parents in the world."
"You're talking out your arse. Dad's the biggest prat in the world."
"Well... yeah. But at least they don't make you act like you live in some fucking museum."
"Did you only come over here to talk?"
"Mm, no." Severus felt soft lips against his. Lucius murmured, "How d'you say 'shut up' in Hindi?"
"Chup raho."
"Then I'd better chup raho." He kissed Snape again, harshly, limber tongue pressing deep, drawn in further when Severus wrapped his own around it. Lucius crawled on top of him, letting his hardening cock press against a washboard stomach and inciting a similar reaction by pressing his thigh between Severus'. His smooth back was still cool, but tacky with the finest layer of sweat. It slid from beneath Severus' fingertips as Malfoy crawled under the covers. Short, silky strands of white hair tangled in his callused fist, and he moaned as smooth wetness entrenched his shaft.
"Fuck, Luc, you've been practising." He gasped when Lucius hummed in response. "Oh, god, yes." A nudge of his hips drove him against a velvety throat. Lucius responded by shifting to let the last significant inch slide deep. Severus arched and groped for his bedside table. He caught the drawer, rummaged inside, and found the small jar of lotion he'd brewed long after his parents were asleep. He tapped Lucius with it.
Lucius chuckled, which only inspired another writhing moan. He pulled back to a small protest. "Did you fix the taste?"
"Yeah. Tastes like kulfi now."
"What?"
"Ice cream."
"Ice cream, yay," Lucius drawled with an audible smirk.
"Just get to work, you cocksucker." The sound of a lid unscrewing was followed by a gentle lapping noise and a soft purr of approval. Lucius pushed Severus' legs apart and, earning a low "ungh!", pressed his lubricant-laden tongue against the puckered bit of flesh. The lotion's effect was immediate, taking sensations and drawing them out fivefold. "Ohhh... goddammit, Lucius, if you stop I swear I'm going to cut your dick off and mount it on the wall."
The practised pink tongue ran a thoughtful circle before delving further. Severus reached down with his free hand and held his testicles out of the way, massaging them gently against his hard cock. He shuddered at the teasing tickle in his arse. Lucius stretched the fleshy crinkles as well as he could. A squishy skin of lubricant was left to ooze around the gaping hole.
"Suck me again."
Lucius obeyed, at the same time taking two fingers full of lotion and sliding it over himself. He groaned around his mouthful, and Severus choked and grabbed his hair. His body echoed. Everything, every tiny clench of nerve or muscle, every tiny tug of coarse hair kept on and on and on. A sharp tooth scraped, and Snape gritted his teeth, silently trying to control his wince until the pain finally dissipated. The Dark Arts, while probably not originally created as a sex aid, certainly were flexible in their application.
"Lean against the wall," he croaked. Lucius immediately stopped sucking and crawled over Severus' long, lean body. Playfully, Snape snapped at Malfoy's cock as it brushed his cheek, receiving a giggle and a gasp when his lips caught foreskin. Lucius shuddered, and a moment later made his slightly weak way to the head of the bed. Severus rolled over, flicking his shoulder-length hair off his face. On hands and knees he groped until he found Lucius in the dark and licked a long trail up his body to his mouth. The lotion did, indeed, taste like kulfi, creamy and sweet and tinged with pistachio, still cool inside a warm mouth.
Deliberately, he moved to lean back against Lucius. Hands wrapped around his chest to stroke his hard nipples. A pinch of slick fingers, and he growled low in his throat. Roughly, he grasped the cock beneath him and held it still. They both groaned when it slid deep, stretching and burrowing and, with the right twitch of hips, coming to rest against Severus' prostate. He dug two fingers behind his scrotum and whimpered at the pressure from both sides.
"You feel so good," Lucius whispered hoarsely, his hips twitching.
"Tell me," Severus hissed. He flexed his thighs, lifting a few slick inches and sliding back slowly.
"Tight, especially when you lift up... like that, yes... oh, god, you're hot. Keep moving... oh, yesss-s-s..." the palms pressed against his nipples contracted, drawing heavy sensation out through tortured nerves. The hand not behind Severus' balls wrapped around his cock. He squeezed and pulled in counter-rhythm to his gradually faster rocking. One leg tensed, pushing him up at an angle, then the other, forcing a figure eight of his hips. "Oh, fuck, yes. Ride 'em, cowboy."
"Say that one more time and I'll make sure you never get laid again," Severus muttered, moving faster, clenching tightly around the hardness he repeatedly impaled himself upon. The echo of one jolt rang long into the next, and the next, and the next, building fast and hard. His head tipped back and lolled on Lucius' shoulder. Harder, faster, he ground himself against slender hips, moaning with every breath. Lucius wasn't in any better shape, releasing each laboured breath with a pppf sound of lips. The echo of sensation built exponentially. Weakness started to take him, and all he could do was squeeze his cock and shift his hips rapidly back and forth.
Suddenly, Lucius grunted, bit Severus' shoulder, and bucked. His teeth sank deeper as he throbbed inside, a muffled roar like an angry bull pouring from his nose. Snape's eyes rolled back. He bucked his hips as fast as he could, hand squeezing and yanking mercilessly, until an avalanche hit him and he moaned, long and loud, hot liquid spurting over his hand and spattering on his belly and parted thighs. It went on forever, pound after pound of pleasure-borne heat reacting at his pulse points and leaving him utterly deaf.
Several minutes later, when he'd recovered both his hearing and his limbs, he slid off, collapsing on the damp bedspread. "I want a fucking cigarette," he mumbled.
"You don't smoke."
"Started in July."
"What about Quidditch?"
"Two cigarettes a day isn't going to hurt me." He yawned. "Bugger off, I'm tired."
"Got something to show you first."
Severus sighed. "Can it wait?"
"Trust me, you'll like it. Where's your wand?"
"Floor by the table. Clean me up first, will you?" He heard Lucius grope bonelessly. In a moment, the stickiness vanished and low light filled the curtained area. Lucius was pink and shiny, and grinning. He held out his left arm. There was a silly little tattoo on it, a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. It looked washed-out, the sickly grey of old dishwater. "Well done. You finally learned how to use a quill."
"It's a Dark Mark, Severus. I'm one of Lord Voldemort's followers." His voice was suitably hushed. Snape stared at him, scowling.
"What the fuck are you talking about? You don't have the sac."
"Careful, Sev, he might hear you." Lucius winked. "Y'know, he could use a good Potions wizard-"
Snape dropped his head on the bed, sighing loudly. "Please. Like I'm going to turn into some old warlock's slave boy."
"You'd like him."
"Oh?" Severus yawned again, more to make a point than out of fatigue.
"Yeah, he's got vision. Real vision." Lucius' pupils dilated in their silver shells. "Imagine walking down a busy street, anywhere in the world, and instead of having to hide what you are and where you come from you're allowed to use magic any way you want. He's going to right things, Sev. We don't need to be afraid of Muggles anymore."
"I'm not afraid of any fucking Muggles."
"Then why didn't you put your robes on before you got on the train this morning?"
Snape stared at Malfoy. The silver in his eyes was almost completely gone. Severus had a horrible squirming feeling in his stomach. No single Muggle scared him, but all of them, together, was enough to give any decent wizard the shakes. They were weak and stupid and ignorant, but when the odds were ten thousand to one... "'Cause my dad would've killed me. And you know I can't stand those things. Bugger off, I'm tired."
Lucius smirked his infuriating little smirk. "That's what I thought. G'night." He extinguished the wand, groped for his dressing gown, and stumbled back to his own bed.
Severus dropped his wand in its spot and yanked back the tangled covers. Lost in thought, he settled down. He didn't need some self-proclaimed Dark Lord to tell him what to think or do, but a tiny part of him dwelled on the concept just the same.
Naa: hurry