Neophyte

He never told me why he wanted the extra lessons; he didn't really need them. Perhaps Potions was not his favorite subject, but he was proficient enough to pass all of his exams with top marks. When I could no longer tolerate the nagging suspicion that I was being used for some ulterior purpose, I asked him. He gave me the oddest look then. Something between surprise and satisfaction.

"Out of everyone at Hogwarts, you are the best at Potions," he said softly, lids lowering over his dark eyes. "And I want to learn from the best."

Somehow, the flattery left me cold.

"I think you're forgetting someone."

He snorted dismissively.

"I'm not interested it that filthy little Mudblood. Slughorn favors her because she's got a smart mouth and a nice set of tits. Bloody traitor, he is. When the one who should be his favorite is in his own fucking House."

I couldn't hide the satisfaction I took in those words. How many times had I said the very same things to myself? And he could recognize it, despite being a year younger. But still...

"You are skilled enough without my help."

He stared at me with that same odd look for several long minutes of silence. He seemed to be trying to make a decision. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and strange.

"Do you know what it's like to be a Black?"

A rhetorical question. I waited, my suspicion rising again.

"We're expected to act a certain way. Get top marks. Be the best at everything. Marry the right girl."

He was watching me now with an intensity that made me wary of the point he was trying to make. I was suddenly very aware of how close we were standing to each other. I had to fight the impulse to back away from him.

"I've tried to be the son my parents expect me to be. Live up to the family name and all that rot. Oh, I'm not complaining. I know what it means to be a Black. I think I'm pretty good at it, actually."

The smile creeping over his face literally made my skin crawl. Menacing, that could be the only word for it. How absurd would it be to draw my wand on him? The hell with that, how absurd was it that a fourth year could make me this nervous? I forced myself to stand my ground as he leaned in to whisper.

"There's only one problem."

When his mouth landed over mine, my first instinct was to strike out at him. But his hands were gripping my shoulders, pulling me toward him, and I was too shocked to resist at first. But then his mouth opened and he pulled me closer still. A panic so fierce and overwhelming took hold of me that I wrenched myself away from him. He was giving me the same smirk that made the girls giggle and squeak like idiots in the Great Hall. He advanced on me, and I no longer thought it absurd to go for my wand. But his hand closed over my wrist before I could reach it.

"Being a Black definitely has its advantages," he whispered next to my ear. His warm breath moved through my hair. "We tend to get what we want."

"I don't--I'm not--"

I hated myself for stammering. He looked up into my eyes, still smirking and still menacing.

"That doesn't really matter, does it?" he asked so softly that I could barely hear it, even at our negligible distance. And then his free hand cupped over me through my trousers. I inhaled sharply, staring at him, aghast. His smirk was almost cruel as he began to rub, firmly and deliberately. Merlin. No one had ever...

I had never been as horrified in my life as I was when that first moan escaped my lips. Before I could react, he had slipped his hand inside my trousers and took hold of me in the flesh, stroking and rubbing with a disturbing expertise. His mouth was at my neck, nipping at the bare skin just above my collar. Vaguely, I thought again of my wand, but the hand that was not working on me still had the wrist of my wand hand in a tight grip. He pressed himself against me, and I could feel him through his own trousers. Clearly, he was getting off on what he was doing to me. But by then, I didn't much care. It felt so fucking good. Another moan slipped from my mouth, and he leaned up to kiss me again.

With my eyes closed, it was easy to pretend; to think of it in the abstract. I parted my lips when he did, and I let him push his tongue into my mouth as he wished. I had never kissed anyone in my life. From the way his mouth pulled at my lips, I was sure that he certainly had. Who knows how long we could've carried on like that? Who knows how far I would've gone? I lost the chance to find out when a loud gasp echoed from the door to the student's lab.

Fuck.

The color was rising so fast on Sirius Black's face that he'd gone from white to beet red in less than five seconds. His eyes were popping out of his head and his mouth was hanging open. If I hadn't been in such a compromising position, it would've been a priceless thing to see him gaping like the idiot he is. As it was, we broke apart as if we were opposite ends of a magnet. I finally did draw my wand. The idiot didn't seem to notice, still balking at us from the doorway.

"What...the...FUCK...is going...on?!" he demanded, with every bit of his usual eloquence. I was still trying to calm my breathing and didn't trust myself to answer just yet.

"Sirius?"

The tone of his voice struck me like a punch to the gut. I whipped around to look at him. He was staring at the idiot with a puzzled, confused expression.

"Regulus," said the idiot, "What the hell are you doing?!"

My Potions neophyte glanced around the room, spared me a long, uncertain look, and then turned his head back to his idiot brother.

"I--I don't know. Aren't we having a Potions lesson, Snape?" he asked me, the very picture of bewildered innocence. I felt ill enough to vomit. I looked over at the idiot, and sure enough, his expression was so outraged that I could almost see the smoke pouring from his ears. It was a good thing I'd already drawn my wand because the idiot immediately went for his.

"You...you--!" he spat, not finding a curse word strong enough for whatever I was. I refused to waste my breath trying to explain the situation to an idiot who wouldn't believe me anyway.

"If you want to explain how it all started when we're caught dueling, be my guest, Black," I muttered, trying my best to sneer. To my amazement, the idiot considered my statement. He started shuffling backwards, moving away from the lab. He kept his wand trained on me, but then, I was happy to do likewise.

"You're going to pay for this, you disgusting piece of garbage. If it's the last thing I do, I swear...I'm going to make you pay."

His footsteps echoed in the hall as he ran for the staircase out of the dungeons. I listened to them to make sure he'd really gone, and then I turned my wand on his double-crossing little brother. To my fury, he was smirking at me once again, apparently unconcerned.

"Sorry about that," he said without a trace of apology in his voice. "We live in the same house, you know. I do still have to go home for holidays and such. Had to be done."

Swallowing my desire to try out a few experimental curses on him, I lowered my wand and stuffed it back in the pocket of my robes. I started gathering up my books and equipment, trying not to let him see how badly my hands were shaking.

"You can forget about Potions tutoring," I spat savagely. I tensed when I felt him come up behind me.

"Oh, I don't think so," he said softly. "I told you. Blacks tend to get what they want."

And with that, he picked up his bag and walked out of the lab without so much as a glance in my direction. My only dilemma was in trying to decide which Black I'd prefer to satisfy.