Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR’s.

Author's Note: Third in the Obsession series.

Warnings: Mention (briefly) of rape, parental abuse, and other nasty things. These boys are a little fucked up.

Murder of Love

Part 2 - Silver Tongue

By Rhys

       

It’s dark and it’s fucking freezing, sitting out here on a broomstick below a cracked window, eavesdropping on my friend and his lover. Thanks god it’s not raining on top of everything else, though those clouds misting over the moon are getting disturbingly solid and heavy. I flex my fingers against my forearms, the sleeves of my robes doing very little to keep them warm. Three hours I’ve been sitting out here, leaning against the frigid stone every now and then so I don’t go tumbling off my broom. They talked for awhile about classes and other inconsequentials when they first met up, then there was a period of quiet that I’m pretty sure meant they were snogging. I didn’t look in; I hardly need the sight of Snape glomming on Remus to haunt my dreams, thank you very much.

They began talking again late in hour two, but too quietly for me to really be able to hear. I sat there for awhile twisting in frustration until I remembered something from Charms.

"Clamorius," I whispered, tapping my wand against the window frame oh-so-lightly. Remus’ and Snape’s voices echoed clearly in my ears, and I grinned to myself in triumph.

And now I stretch my fingers, cramping from the cold, but I can’t leave. It’s getting way too interesting.

"Please, Remus. You know you can trust me…why won’t you with this?" Snape’s voice was soft, persuasive but not pleading.

"Sev, I will, I just can’t now…please be patient!" The pleading absent from Snape’s voice is present in Remus’, and I frown. He only does that when he knows he’s wrong. Otherwise, he just turns to stone, gives you this horribly long-suffering face while you accuse him of whatever it is he doesn’t feel responsible for.

"I have been patient. I will continue to be patient. But an absence every month for three days…" Snape trails off, and Remus says nothing. "Don’t think I haven’t noticed when it happens," the Slytherin adds, and I can imagine the knowing sneer on his face. Still, silence from Remus.

"It’s at the full moon. Every month at the full moon." Has he guessed it? Snape always was a sneaky bastard, too smart for his own good. "Remus, are you a…?"

"No!" The vehemence in my friend’s tone shocks me. As does his answer; Remus has always been a very honest person…how has Snape been treating him, for him to feel he has to lie like this? "No, I’m not…what you’re thinking. I just can’t…not now. Please, Sev."

Thanks to my little charm, I can hear Snape’s soft sigh. "Okay. Okay, fine." There’s acceptance…but also resentment there. //You would never understand, you prick. You’d run to tell the second you found out, wouldn’t you?//

"Sev, it’s getting late. I have to go." He sounds so _sad_, and my fists clench. How dare Snape me him feel like that? I bare my teeth, almost unconsciously, but keep to my steady hover below the window. Plenty of time to get back at him. Plenty of time.

"Yeah, me too." More silence…but now, thanks to the charm, I can hear the soft, wet noises, the little hitch in Remus’ breath, the sibilant hiss of Snape. I’m shaking, //In disgust. That’s all it is, disgust that he’s touching Moony.//

"Goodnight Remus."

"’Night, love."

The sound of a shutting door…and then I remember, and I push the broom away from the window, dart out, and behind a crenellated tower that I can watch the exit from without being seen. Remus comes out first, his robes gathered bunched up around him, as he tries to shelter himself in the surprisingly cold spring air. I watch him trot towards the Great Hall, before being drawn back to a darker shape exiting the tower. Snape, perfect.

I press gently against the gnarled handle of the broom, sending it diving down behind him as he hurries the other direction. I almost lose him in the darkness, black on black, but I know which way he’s going. As the moon suddenly peeks from behind a sheltering cloud, I spot him again, almost directly in front of my. God, I’m within arm’s length! He can’t hear me on the broom…and I could just reach out now, end all our troubles. A curse, a quick twist of the neck…but I’m no hardened killer. I know no curses to take the life from a person, even such a deserving one as Snape. No physical maneuvers that would allow me to murder him quickly and quietly.

So instead I touch down behind him, pleased at the startled gasp I wring from him at the sudden sound at his back. He spins awkwardly, and not for the first time do I wonder what Remus sees in him. He is, after all, quite ugly, his enormous nose dominating his face, deep-set eyes sinister and beady in the moonlight. His lips are meager, miserly in their thin line, and he’s all angles and sharp points, too tall and too skinny, and too dark altogether. His hair is tangled, oily, like his words, his deceitful words that drew a haze over Remus’ mind, his good sense.

"Black," he hisses, snarling at me ferally. His hands curl into angry claws, and I stare at him, mesmerized by the aura of sheer menace he exudes.

"Snape," I answer finally, setting my broom on the damp ground, leaning against it casually. "Imagine meeting you here."

"What do you want?" he spits at me, before his eyes narrow. "Were you spying on Remus and I?"

"Don’t take me for the kind of sick pervert you are," I sneer disdainfully, though I’ve been doing just that, spying. But for a good cause, I tell myself. "No, I was just looking for you."

He considers this, hand going reflexively to his pocket. He obviously thinks I’m here to fight with him or something. I have to laugh, and I watch his startled reaction to that warm liquid sound. My laugh's one of my best features, and that’s saying a lot. But even I can’t break that rigid wall of suspicion.

"I’ll ask again, then. What do you want?"

I tip my head to the side knowingly, letting a small smile quirk the corners of my lips. //Make him want it. He’s notoriously nosy, the perfect Slytherin, greedy for knowledge and power.// "Oh, just to have a little word with you…"

"About what, Black!?" He’s losing his patience already, and I have to take some delight in how easy it is to unnerve him.

"About things you should know…" I trail off deliberately, looking up at the sky, leaning my head against my broomstick.

"What things I should know?" Oh, he’s hooked now, and aggro on top of it. I almost have him, but then, "Oh, goddamnit, Black, I don’t have time for your games." I hear the rustle of cloth as he turns on his heel, about to stalk away.

"Things you should know about Remus." That stops him. He pivots back slowly.

"Remus know you’re telling tales out of school?" One heavy eyebrow is raised as he looks at me, but I can see the tell-tale glint of avarice in those black eyes.

"No, he doesn’t." I put my challenge right up there for him to see, and he’s drawn by it.

"Then why are you?"

"Because I don’t think you can handle what he is." The wonderful thing about this, is I don’t even have to lie. Brilliant. "Because I think his little secret will drive you away."

"He’s a werewolf, isn’t he?" His face gives away nothing, and I make sure to keep my own smooth and bland.

"Maybe. Maybe it’s something else. I know a way you can find out."

Now I can see the war in him, the need to know battling the fear of getting caught. His lips twitch in the wake of the struggle, but finally he answers. "How?" His voice is terse, strained.

"You know the Whomping Willow they planted a few years back?"

"Yeah."

"There’s a knot in the base, ‘round the south side. Push it with a stick or something, and the tree will hold still for a moment and a hole will open up in the bottom. Go into the tunnel, and you’ll find out what you wanted to know."

He studies me for a moment, heavy brows furrowed. "Right, Black. I’m going to go into a hole that you tell me to. Likely you and your mates will be waiting in there to kick the shit out of me."

"How long do you think I was following you, Snape?"

"What?" More surprise.

"A good few minutes, it was. I could have cursed you at any time tonight, and you would have never known. But I didn’t." I pull myself into a more erect position, swinging my broom up horizontal to the ground at my hip. "But it’s up to you. If you don’t want to know, then don’t show up tomorrow night." With that I swing gracefully onto my broom and fly back to the Great Hall and the Gryffindor dorms. I don’t need to look back to know Snape is just standing there, staring at me go. Wondering what he should do. //Bloody moron.//

       

I know he must be terribly distracted. He rushes into the common room, his dark eyes lit with some internal fire that I recognize…someone’s been tempting our Severus, tempting him with knowledge if I’m not much mistaken. I slip out from the shadows as he heads towards the stairs and reach out to lightly brush my fingers over his elbow. That’s all it takes to send him spinning around like a top, his robes flaring.

"Lucius," he says, at a sudden loss, and his eyes flick over the room to see if there’s anyone else around. Evan, or Ravi, or Avery.

"Severus," I say gently, ghosting my fingers along his arm, flickering through the loose folds of black. "I need to talk to you."

"I-" he begins, then stops himself. He thinks about it for a moment, and I drink in his face, that sharp face that pairs mine so well. "Now is not a good time," he concludes.

"When is a good time, Severus?" I know I can make my voice melodiously persuasive when I try, and six years spent with this boy serves me well. He bites his lower lip lightly, his face showing his obvious confusion. "Please…I’m not here to hurt you."

That decides it for him, and I hide my smile, the one that says I still have control, there’s still a way for me to get him back. But first I have to lay the groundwork. He can’t keep thinking of that horrid scene outside of Potions when he sees me. Or the cold looks we’ve been exchanging at the table in the Great Hall. "Alright, Lucius. What did you want to speak to me about?"

I wave for him to sit, and am gratified by how quickly he acquiesces to my graceful gesture. I choose a seat close to him, but not threateningly close. "I felt…that is, I thought I should apologize to you." I cast my eyes down, school my face into humble overtones with deep regret as a backdrop.

"What?" I let my gaze flicker up to catch the look of utter incredulity opening his dark face.

"I know…Malfoys don’t apologize. But…I’m…I feel lost without you, Severus." I let my voice trail off into an embarrassed whisper, putting just the right amount of longing into it. Real longing, which somehow makes it more bittersweet. I do feel lost without him, but just because it’s a genuine emotion doesn’t mean it’s something I won’t use to get what I want.

"Lucius…" he begins, at a loss for words. I keep my head bowed, but let my eyes trace up to his face. Malfoy eyes always look best when seen through a veil of silver-blonde hair.

"Please, don’t say anything. I couldn’t….damn it, but you make this hard, Severus!" A crack for anger to shine through, for verisimilitude. "Look, that’s all I wanted to say. And…if you need something–anything–I’ll be here. Alright?"

"I don’t want anything," he answers me slowly. "Lucius, you have to understand. I’m with-"

"You’re with that Gryffindor, yes, I had noticed," I snap, the anger real this time. "But you can’t just throw away six years. I loved you…I still do." I find myself letting out things I hadn’t meant to. "You and I, we’re perfect for each other. We understand each other, Severus. How can he give you that?"

"I never understood you," he says softly, and this time it’s his turn to bow his head, tangles of black shading his face from the dying flames of the fire.

"Oh, you did, love, you did, you just didn’t know." I can’t help it, I reach out and lightly stroke his chin with my thumb, wanting to lift his face, kiss him, claim him with my mouth, bite his tongue, bleed him into me. The way we used to be. "Please, you can’t just throw all that away…"

"I didn’t throw it away, Lucius." His voice is stronger now, that silken baritone, and his head snaps up, jerking away from my hand. And oh, how it hurts to see the accusation in those eyes. But it troubles the boiling water of my own rage, too. I narrow my eyes, and I see his sudden flinch at the danger there…he knows me much better than he believes. But there’s too much at stake here. I force calm through me in chill breaths, and pull my hand back cautiously.

"I know. I know, and I’m sorry, Severus, I truly am." It’s hard to force repentance into my words, but I hang onto how hollow I’ve felt lately, squeeze every last ounce of regret from that. "I just…I don’t want you to think that…I don’t want you to hate me. I know you probably can’t bring yourself to be friends with me any longer…but I want you to know that I do love you. I think I always will. I think you never really knew that when we were together, and my deepest regret is not making my feelings clear enough."

I draw in a shuddering breath, pulling myself to my feet, then glance at him once more, longingly. "I’ll say good night now, Severus," I murmur, letting my hand flutter towards him one last time before falling uselessly to my side.

I hear his whisper when I’m halfway down the stairs. "Good night, Lucius."

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