Addictive Conflict

Sirius studied the blackboard carefully for a moment, biting his lower lip in concentration and then returning his attention to their desk, where he scribbled something down on his parchment.

"Sirius..." Remus glanced across at his friend, poking him plaintively in the shoulder with the end of his quill. Sirius looked up distractedly for a moment, and was about to reply when the Professor's voice cut through their thoughts.

"...Then once you've taken the square root of the initial sum, you're left with the value which you multiply by the cosine of the second -- obviously in this case it works out well, but it doesn't always pan out so neatly...bear that in mind, as it varies depending on the magical influx. Now, I want you to see if you can work out the rest of this one on your own..." Remus stared blankly for a moment, before just shaking his head in confusion. No matter how much he tried to study for Arithmancy, it just never seemed to make sense to him.

He looked down at his own near-empty parchment glumly; the few calculations that were there had been crossed out emphatically several times, and the ink was terribly smudged. In comparison, Sirius was nearly finished with the work they had been set; line upon line of neat notes and sums laid out in front of him. Sighing, Remus closed his eyes tiredly and slumped down on the desk, resting his head on his arms. Thankfully Professor Linsera -- a tall middle-aged man with ash-blonde hair -- was rather lenient and rarely objected when his pupils weren't paying attention.

Remus often wished that James or Peter had elected to take Arithmancy classes, too. He still didn't know what had possessed him to...he had supposed it would get interesting in Fourth Year, but was painfully mistaken. Sirius on the other hand seemed smitten with the classes -- and thus spent the lessons listening religiously and shushing Remus whenever he tried to talk.

"...And so who can tell me which spell this is the technical formula for?" Sirius immediately raised his hand in the air, and Remus could see him scowl as Linsera chose a short black-haired boy on the other side of the room. "Yes, Snape?"

"A variation of the Diffindo spell, of the Third Intensity, Sir." The quiet reply was almost inaudible, and they had to strain to hear it.

"Excellent! Absolutely right," came Linsera's cheery confirmation, "ten points to Slytherin!"

Sirius glowered in Snape's general direction, muttering in annoyance. "Linsera always asks him...it's just because he's their Head of House, I swear..." Remus hid a smile and went back to doodling around the edge of his parchment, just wishing that the lesson would hurry up and finish. It was their last class of the day, and as he was worn out from the earlier practical session in Defence Against the Dark Arts, he was looking forward to just collapsing in the Common Room.

Abruptly he suddenly felt like he was being watched; a curious prickling feeling on the back of his neck made him glance up from the desk, and he let his gaze wander around the classroom. He was soon confronted with the dark, suspicious eyes of Snape -- who quickly turned and looked away as soon as he realised Remus had noticed him.

'...What? What did I do?' he wondered, watching the back of Snape's head in confusion. Having never spoken to him -- that he could remember, anyway -- Remus was at somewhat of a loss as to what he might deserve to be glared at for.

"Hey, Remus, it's time to leave..." Sirius was tapping him on the shoulder, having already gathered up his things and was looking at him in amusement. "I would've thought you'd be the first to want to escape!"

Nodding hurriedly, Remus swept his things together and stuffed them in his bag, joining Sirius as he headed for the door. He could feel the same creepy sensation following him as they left, but stared resolutely forward and refused to glance back.

- - - - - -

Sighing contentedly, Remus relaxed back into one of the large sofas littering the Gryffindor Common Room, the gentle flames of the flickering fire bathing him in soft warmth. Sirius was lying casually with his head resting on the opposite armrest, his feet just bumping Remus' knees. There were a few quiet pockets of conversation going on, but on the whole the atmosphere in the Common Room was sleepy and calm.

That is, until the portrait guarding the entrance slowly swung open, and admitted a very exuberant James Potter.

"Hey Sirius, Remus -- and where's Peter got to? -- try these!" James was brandishing a packet of something at them, and Sirius' eyes lit up as he started to make a grab for it; thinking it was some kind of new practical joke they could use. His face fell as he successfully wrangled the tube from James and noticed that they were, in fact, some kind of odd smelling purple things, with no explanation on the wrapper.

"What the hell are these?" He held the packet up and squinted at it for a moment, before tossing it to Remus for a second inspection. "Palma Violets...?"

"They're sweets you idiot - Muggle sweets!" Sirius didn't really find James' explanation all that reassuring.

"Oh really..." he was eyeing the small purple thing Remus had thrown him dubiously, before giving it a tentative lick. "Muggle sweets are weird," he complained, "...and these ones smell really strange -- like flowers or something." James looked slightly huffy at Sirius' apparent lack of appreciation.

"Where'd you get them though, James?" Remus looked curious, "they don't sell this kind of thing in Hogsmeade..."

"Oh," James looked slightly shifty and a pink tinge suffused his cheeks, "w-well, Lily gave them to me -- you know, what with her being Muggle-born. She thought I might like them." At that moment he found it necessary to immediately take off his glasses and became absorbed in cleaning them.

Remus just smiled and sucked on another sweet, while Sirius let out a whoop and jumped up from the sofa, clapping James on the shoulder and using his other hand to ruffle James' hair. Playfully shoving Sirius off him, James shrugged and reached over to take one of the violet sweets before speaking again.

"You do know she already has a boyfriend, right Sirius?" Sirius gestured vaguely and made a dismissive noise.

"Yeah, but just look at who it is!" Remus glanced up from the Arithmancy book he had recently appropriated and looked at Sirius pointedly,

"...Do you even know who it is, Sirius?" Before the resulting look of indignation could give way to argument, James stepped in and contributed the name for them.

"Oliver Harkell. Ravenclaw Fifth-year," he said in a non-committal way, sinking back down into the plump sofa cushions.

"Oh..." Sirius sat down on the sofa in between Remus and James looking thoughtful. "I think I know who that is...well, whatever, I'm sure you're better than him, James," he said with a reassuring grin. James just rolled his eyes and looked at Sirius scathingly.

"They've been together for nearly three months, Sirius. I think you're being overly optimistic."

"Meh. Technicalities...and hey -- you're the one who should be more enthusiastic about this than me --"

"-- Enthusiastic about what exactly?!"

"Hey -- hey guys?" Sirius and James were abruptly broken out of their tirades by the entrance of Peter, who was climbing awkwardly through the portrait hole and brushing off his robes.

"Oh, there you are, Peter!" James wandered over from the sofa to greet him, but stopped and looked at him in concern when he noticed how nervous and shaken he seemed. "Er, are you alright?"

Peter swallowed hard, his pale, slightly plump face flushed. "Remus," he said faintly, "I just, er, saw Malfoy. He...wanted me to ask you --" his features screwed up slightly in concentration as he tried to remember the wording. "'What the hell you think you're doing', and tell you that, 'you've got exactly five minutes before he gladly forgets he ever promised you anything.'" Remus' eyes widened, and he grabbed Sirius' wrist and twisted it round, trying to get a look at his watch and ignoring the pained yelp as he did so. It was a quarter past five.

"No, I forgot!" Remus scrambled up and dumped his book on the sofa, almost tripping up as he hurried towards the Common Room exit. "I'll see you later at dinner!" he added over his shoulder as he disappeared, leaving behind him three very confused Gryffindors.

- - - - - -

"Avery, Lestrange, get over here..." Lucius was not in the best of moods after his run in with that small chubby Gryffindor boy; he almost didn't want Lupin to get his message, but on the other hand he certainly didn't want to give him even half a reason to go around spilling the details of what had happened the other night.

"...What is it, Malfoy?" Avery approached him irritably, a frown patently visible on his swarthy face. "...and hadn't you noticed -- Lestrange is off somewhere with Nott."

"Oh," Lucius looked thrown for a moment, before shaking his head and continuing, "I just wanted to ask whether or not you've received any correspondence from...him, lately," his eyes were guarded, and he crossed his arms almost petulantly. "...because I know I haven't, and, well -- it's been over a fortnight."

"Honestly, Malfoy," Avery growled, glaring and half turning away, "you don't need to sound so damn needy. He'll contact us when he wants us, not just to make you feel better." Lucius flushed slightly and stiffened.

"That's not what I meant. I just think that --" he paused abruptly, and scowled when he heard a quiet knocking on the entrance to their Common Room, "someone's here. Who's forgotten the password this time..." he strode over to the niche, and flung open the portrait to reveal a very out of place Lupin. Lucius blinked a couple of times in surprise, his expression then hardening into a dispassionate gaze.

"...Hi, Malfoy." Remus smiled feebly, quailing slightly under Lucius' less than friendly welcome, and the hostile looks that he was receiving from others inside the Slytherin Common Room.

"Oh. It's you," Lucius narrowed his pale eyes and took in Lupin's dishevelled appearance and somewhat laboured breathing -- secretly it gave him a smug sense of satisfaction to know that the other boy must have come running as soon as he had gotten the message, "nice to know that you finally bothered to turn up..." He was glad to see Lupin turn slightly red, and just as Lupin was about to speak he interrupted him. "Follow me, then," and he turned and swept through the Common Room, ignoring the strange stares he was getting as Lupin trailed awkwardly after him.

"Why..." Lupin started to speak, but then obviously thought better of it as he fell silent and resumed following Lucius up the stairs without saying a word.

"You. Get out." Lucius entered his dorm room and waited expectantly while the sullen looking boy who was already in there eyed him mutinously for a moment before slouching off. Shutting and bolting the door with a loud click, Lucius then turned and sat back on his bed. "So."

Remus shuffled nervously, finally looking around for a moment and then settling down on the very edge of a nearby chair. "Sorry I'm late," he began quietly, "I got Peter's message from you..." Lucius looked blank.

"Peter? Oh -- the fat boy," he smirked, watching Lupin's expression turn from apologetic to one of mild outrage. "I must admit I didn't even know if he knew you; though I thought I remembered seeing him following your lot around one time..."

Pursing his lips, Remus decided not to dignify that with an answer. "Look, Malfoy, I didn't come here so you could insult my friends. Are you going to talk to me or not?"

Sighing in a bored way, Lucius lifted his legs up and lay back on the bed, lacing his fingers together and resting his head on his hands. "Well, yes. I suppose I have to, don't I...as you so effectively blackmailed me. Not a very noble thing for a Gryffindor to do, is it?" his lips twisted into a bitter smile as Lupin made as though to protest. "It's true though, and you know it is. Doesn't surprise me though...I don't think half the people that get put in Gryffindor really deserve to be there..."

"Jealous, Malfoy?" Remus raised an eyebrow, but Lucius just snorted derisively.

"Of course not -- don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't want to be put in with you lot if you paid me --" abruptly cut off by a tapping noise on the window, Lucius sat up quickly and peered behind him, his expression breaking out into one of relief as he reached out and unfastened the window latch. "Kiely!" he held out an arm for the tawny owl to hop onto, and eagerly fumbled with the small roll of parchment fastened to her leg as she waited patiently for her reward. Remus watched silently and in slight amusement as Malfoy fed his owl something, a surprisingly caring expression on his face.

Once Kiely had flown over to her perch in the corner of the room, (where Remus felt she began to stare across at him rather malevolently with her yellow eyes) Lucius finally unrolled the parchment with trembling fingers, tense with anticipation.

Would it be from...?

His eyes raced across the scrawled lines, filling with disappointment and his mouth hardening until he finally crushed the letter in his right fist, flinging it behind him so it bounced off the wardrobe. Taking a deep breath and then running a hand calmly through his hair, Lucius just commented, "Father wrote," and lay back on the bed and shut his eyes, almost surprised when Lupin made himself heard.

"...Bad news?" Lucius shrugged non-commitally, opening his eyes a little and turning to study Lupin.

"Not really. The usual," he watched the other boy jump suddenly as the bell rang for dinner. Neither of them moved. "...Your friends will be waiting for you in the hall, Lupin. You'd better go."

"No, I don't think so," came the careless reply, and Lucius could see Lupin waiting, still expectant.

"Oh, fine..." he muttered, "I don't suppose you'd be satisfied with a simple 'I felt like going out drinking' explanation?" One look at the other's exasperated expression made him smile a little. "Alright, alright... Fine; yesterday afternoon I received an owl from my Father. We don't have the greatest relationship in the world, but we're civil -- and that's all that matters. I respect him, and I follow his rules. My Mother passed away when I was four, so I never really knew her," he waved off Remus' murmured condolences, and continued, "...so you'd expect that I'd be quite close to my Father, but it never really worked like that. He didn't re-marry, and was generally rather distant with the world; me included. Anyway -- the owl. It said...it said he'd found a wife for me..." A strange expression clouded Lucius' eyes, and Remus' mouth opened a little in surprise.

"A wife?" Lucius shut his eyes and a serene sort of expression passed over his face.

"Yes, a wife. You don't need to sound so shocked; I'd half-expected it anyway...just...not so soon. No doubt he wants me to marry immediately after I leave school. As much time as possible to have a worthy heir, I suppose...can't leave these things to chance..." Remus was having a hard time deciding whether Lucius was being sarcastic or not. "I like to make my own decisions, you know," he half-whispered, "but I understand what I have to do. I've met the girl before...she's a year older than me, from another old wizarding family -- Narcissa Duplessis -- and went to Beauxbatons Academy. Quite pretty, I suppose. I'm just not..." his throat ached and he trailed off, and when he next opened his eyes he found Lupin to be gazing at him with something akin to pity in his eyes.

"Malfoy..."

"Stop that," he snapped, sitting up and rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I don't need your pity; I'm perfectly happy." Remus looked sceptical.

"I see. Can't understand why..." A heavy silence descended upon the room, while Lucius waited expectantly for Remus to leave, and Remus obstinately stayed put.

"...Why are you still here? I was under the assumption that as soon as I'd told you, you would leave." Lupin contemplated this for a moment, before simply shaking his head.

"But you haven't really told me anything -- after all, if you're perfectly happy, then why would you go out drinking like that? Surely there must be something you're trying to forget..."

"Yes, well, obviously everything's not perfect. I suppose you have a wonderful relationship with your parents?" The faint smile dropped from Remus' expression, and his face darkened as he remained silent. "Oh, no? You don't? Hit a nerve did I?" Lucius didn't even try to keep the spiteful note from his voice, "well maybe now you understand why I don't like sharing everything with someone I barely even know." Spitting out the last word bitterly, Lucius turned his head to one side and clenched his fists, keeping his eyes tightly shut to prevent the tell-tale prickling of tears from amounting to anything more.

"...Yes, you're right you know," the quiet confirmation broke the pregnant silence, but Lucius didn't move. Remus continued, "...my Mother hates me. My Dad's indifferent. I have no siblings, and my parents are ashamed of me and wish I'd never been born." His voice was tightly controlled, and Lucius glanced up in surprise to see Lupin's face break out into a strained smile.

Inexplicably, he suddenly felt awful.

"...What's your name?" he said roughly, trying to look disinterested. Lupin blinked, slightly confused by the sudden change of subject.

"...Lupin. Remus Lupin." Lucius nodded slowly, looking down and fiddling with the dark green bedcover bunched up within the grip of his left hand.

"Alright -- Remus --" he said uncertainly, "I'm Lucius. If I'm going to tell you anything more, you may as well call me by my name."

Not quite certain how to respond to this, Remus just watched the older boy silently for a minute, before venturing forth a tentative question. "So...you mean to tell me more, then?"

Lucius tilted his head back and gazed at the ceiling, studying a jagged crack. "Ah...well, I suppose I do. Would it sound ever so strange if I said...that I feel like I can trust you?" he looked down again to find Remus regarding him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness in his eyes.

"I --"

"Lucius?" An uncertain faint voice drifted through from behind the door, coupled with some hesitant knocks. "Lucius, are you there? Why didn't you come down to dinner? Are you alright?" Lucius' expression was pained, and Remus got the impression that Lucius had had to deal with the Slytherin waiting outside before.

"...Go away, Sev'. I'm busy." There was silence for a moment as though the boy outside was thinking about how to respond to the blunt answer.

"...But I need some help studying a new curse I found, I'm not sure how it works --"

"Sev'!" Lucius cut him off in exasperation, "I'm with someone -- can't you just come back later?"

Another uncertain pause. Then, "...I know, it's that Gryffindor, isn't it! That one in my Arithmancy class... Lucius, you can't --"

"Don't tell me what I can't do!" Lucius snapped, glaring at the door in annoyance. "Look, Sev', if you need help right away, go and ask Lestrange for help -- he's better at curses than me. Right now, I don't want to be disturbed, so I'll talk to you later." There was a quiet muttering of dissent from outside, but it gradually faded as they heard footsteps echoing away down the stone steps.

"That was -- Snape?" Remus asked, the strange glances he'd been receiving in Arithmancy now making slightly more sense.

Lucius nodded. "Yeah...he has a general hatred for everyone who's not a Slytherin." Frowning slightly, Lucius began picking at a loose thread on the bedcover, ignoring the pressure of Remus' gaze.

"And -- and that curse he wanted help with...?" It was a well known fact among the Fourth Years that Snape had an unhealthy interest in the Dark Arts -- an interest which he made little effort to hide.

Lucius looked up defiantly, as though daring Remus to object. "...What about it?" Lupin flushed and avoided meeting Lucius' eyes.

"Well -- you know -- is it true that...you Slytherins...work closely with the Dark Arts?" he stammered this slightly, desperate for Lucius' reply, but not sure how the other would interpret the question.

"Yes. We feel it's better than living in ignorance." Lucius answered simply, his pale eyes glittering in the now candle-lit room. Remus was trembling a little, and he slowly rose and walked over to sit on the bed beside Lucius. This had the double-benefit of letting him speak quietly, and at the same time avoid looking the older boy in the eyes.

"Then -- then would you mind...if I..." he bit his thumbnail nervously, sensing Lucius turn to look at him curiously, "I mean...would you mind...showing me?" he heard a sharp intake of breath next to him, and hurried on. "I just -- I just think it's interesting, and --" he jumped as he heard a low laugh sound next to him, and felt a warm hand come up to rest on his shoulder.

"Intrigued by the Dark Arts, Remus? First blackmail, and now this..." but Lucius' tone was amused, not mocking, and so Remus relaxed; comforted somewhat by Lucius using his forename for the first time. Shrugging lightly, Lucius inclined his head. "I don't see why not... Not now, though."

Remus sighed in relief and felt Lucius' hand slide off him. "Thanks...Lucius," he smiled awkwardly, "it's just...you can't make that sort of request of Gryffindors without managing to somehow give the impression that you're harbouring the desire to enslave the wizarding world...and I certainly don't want to become another Grindelwald," he shuddered, and a small frown creased his forehead. "I just think...it's...interesting."

The absurdity of this claim didn't escape either of them, but Lucius kept courteously silent and appeared to accept Remus' reasoning at face value. Lucius soon tapped his watch and extended his wrist to show Remus the time. "I think you'd better go," he murmured, not seeming the least bit surprised that it was nearly quarter to seven.

"Oh!" standing up swiftly, Remus turned and after some deliberation, ineptly offered Lucius his hand. "I... um, well, thanks." Lucius' mouth curved into a smile, and he reached up to gently clasp Remus' hand within his own.

"I'll see you soon then, Remus." Lupin nodded and looked away, his cheeks heated as he hurried from the room.

Lucius sprawled back on his bed after Remus had left, contemplating the conversation which had just taken place. He felt slightly strange, placing such confidence in a Fourth-year Gryffindor he didn't really know... he seemed sincere and earnest enough, though, and somehow it seemed a kind of rapport had been formed between them this evening -- not what he had expected at all. But then -- he hadn't really expected such understanding from a Gryffindor; nor such an interest in the Dark Arts. He was certainly an interesting boy...