Love Among the Marauders

Chapter Seven

The repercussions of the Ambring incident are dramatic. Lily breaks down and confesses everything to McGonagall, who docks so many points from Gryffindor that their chances of winning the house cup are reduced to zero. Most of the house won't even talk to Lily. Ambring takes Lily's prank as a sign that he should never have gotten entangled with a Mudblood. He allies himself so aggressively with the school's pureblooded factions that he begins to threaten Malfoy's leadership.

Malfoy, who has always loathed Ambring's easy charisma, finds himself less concerned with putting Ambring in his place than he ought to be. He knows he should challenge him to a duel, but somehow all this time with Sirius has undermined his megalomania. Power politics don't seem that interesting anymore. Besides, Ambring's humiliation at the hands of a Muggle-born probably outstrips any retaliation Malfoy could devise.

The recognition that he is looking forward to laughing with Sirius about the victory of one of Sirius's mongrel cohorts over a boy from his own clique, a boy who shares his bone-deep values and convictions, is like a cool breath of doom. Holy hell, thinks Malfoy, with a residual iota of self-preservation, I've completely lost my mind. This is a disaster. But he smiles as he thinks it.

A few days after the match, Malfoy and Sirius have Potions together. Leaning over their shared cauldron, Malfoy feels Sirius's hair against his face and turns toward him, breathing in his smell of sun-hot skin and Quidditch grass. He accidentally inhales some potion fumes and laughs dizzily. Then he glances up to see Sirius watching him with a stricken expression.

Comprehension is instantaneous; Malfoy feels his blood thin and drain out of his head. He doesn't allow a single muscle to flicker in his face as the whole lovely confectionary fairy tale crashes to the ground around him.

After a moment, he straightens and looks away across the classroom. He says, in a carefully pleasant voice, "Ah. The tide has turned."

"Lucius---"

"Don't patronize me."

After class, they pack up their things slowly, waiting until everyone else has left. Malfoy says, "So. This is the end. Very tragic. Now I'll have to destroy you."

Sirius just watches him.

Malfoy is trembling slightly. "If you're waiting for me to ask you why, I won't."

"Lucius," says Sirius, moving closer and putting his hands on Malfoy's hips.

Malfoy says, "Don't touch me," but he doesn't move, and when Sirius kisses him, gently, no tongue, his eyelids drop, and Sirius remembers the feel of those luminous lashes like luna wings against his skin. When they draw apart, Malfoy's pale gray eyes look different, shuttered, flat as steel.

*

In angry need of action, Malfoy stalks back to the dungeon and decides to challenge Ambring to a duel after all. He pictures them at midnight on the Quidditch pitch, surrounded by a discreet audience of Slytherin purebloods and accompanied by seconds.

When he realizes that he is automatically imagining Sirius standing behind him, arms crossed, legs apart, cloak billowing in the low late wind, he screeches incoherently and blindly hexes several of the tapestries lining the dungeon corridor. They burst into flame in his wake and he slams into the common room in a rank cloud of heavy smoke.

"I thought that might be you," drawls a lazy voice from the depths of a green velvet sofa. Julian is lying on his back, a book open across his chest, idly twirling a hank of dark red hair. Malfoy strides across the room and stands over him, glaring, still too furious to speak. After a moment, the sight of Julian lying there, smirking serenely, begins to calm him.

Oh, yes, Malfoy thinks, I remember this. Julian is beautiful. His skin is golden, dark for a redhead, and his eyes are light and cold. Malfoy suddenly recollects how fully Julian used to hold his attention. Before Sirius. Come to think of it, Julian actually started this whole bloody mess with Sirius.

Malfoy sits petulantly at the end of the sofa, lifts Julian's feet ungently into his lap, and says, "This is all your fault."

Julian lifts a delicate eyebrow, waiting to see if Malfoy actually wants to talk to him about Black. But apparently not.

Instead, Malfoy announces, "I've decided to challenge Ambring after all. You'll be my second."

"Lucius. How very touching. You can't mean me?"

"Shut up, Julian. Yes. I need to figure out what the hell I'm---"

"The thing is, Lucius, darling," murmurs Julian, closing his book and draping himself back against the couch, "I don't think I will."

"What?" Malfoy is outraged.

"Lucius. Stop glaring at me like a deranged tyrant. What exactly are you planning to do to him?"

"Make an example."

"You don't really want to do that."

"No?"

"No. A Ravenclaw lieutenant could serve you well. Let him off the hook and attack a common enemy."

Julian is right, of course. Half the reason they've been together so long is that Julian reminds Malfoy of the cardinal importance of remaining ice cold. Malfoy's most disturbing flaw, in his own estimation, is a sort of emotional hedonism, a sort of...he struggles to grit it out even in his own mind...a sort of sentimentality. Look at this gruesome situation with Black, for instance. Well, it's time to reestablish the separation of sex and actual life.

Malfoy scowls. "I assume you have a plan."

Julian smirks back at him. "I always have a plan."

And he does. Standing in the Charms corridor earlier in the week, he overheard Black and Potter discussing a twilight assignation at the Whomping Willow on the night of the full moon.

Malfoy keeps his face carefully still at this news of what he imagines to be Sirius's return to James.

Julian says, "You want Black, Ambring wants Potter. It's perfect." Julian smiles and contemplates his own elegant wand hand for a moment. "To quote the eloquent Ambring, we can 'really hex the shit out of them.'"

Malfoy forces himself to laugh. "Sounds very satisfying."

"Yes. But covering Black in tiny tentacles is just a bonus. The point is the opportunity to range a major Ravenclaw on our side. Draw some battle lines."

"You think he'll do it."

"He'll jump to do it. His girlfriend of two years left him for his Quidditch rival after fouling him out of the match. He wants to shred the Muggle-loving Potter into tiny, sticky bits and eat them. And if he doesn't jump, you'll make him. We need a little more alpha dog around here, Lucius. You've been very disappointing lately."

Malfoy groans and presses his hands against his face. "All right. Just get him in here. I'm going to have a bath."

*

When Malfoy returns to the common room, pale hair dripping into the towel slung around his neck, Ambring is already waiting for him, sitting in an armchair in front of the fire and tossing back the drink someone has brought him.

Malfoy sits on the other side of the fireplace and crosses his legs. "Ambring."

"Malfoy. This is about the duel?"

"There isn't going to be a duel."

"Worried I could take you?"

"Let me spare you the embarrassment of answering that. I understand you used to date Miss Evans?"

"Uh... Yeah."

"Very distressing. That business at the match. Being so soundly cursed by your ex after her quite public dismissal of you for a rival Seeker."

Ambring's eyes narrow. "No worse than you and your little blood traitor."

"No?" Malfoy watches Ambring with studied curiosity.

Ambring concentrates on the ice in his glass and says in a tone that is both harsh and oddly sympathetic, "Look. I saw you in their corridor the other day."

Malfoy's expression doesn't change, but inwardly he cringes. Wonderful. Ambring saw him, miles from his own territory, begging Sirius Black to sleep with him. How humiliating. And that was before Sirius dumped him.

Malfoy leans back in his chair with exaggerated laziness and says coldly, "You have two choices. We can have this stupid duel and I'll hex your eyeballs out of your head, or we can combine our skills against Black and Potter. They're planning to be out of bounds after curfew in a few nights. I thought we might ambush them."

"And then what? You're in charge?"

"Yes."

Malfoy can see Ambring bridling, but the hexing threat is not idle. And knowledge of Malfoy's humiliation at Sirius's hands doesn't constitute real power.

Finally, Ambring says, "Fine. We're on the same side. And I'm sick of what those idiots get away with. But it's not exactly a direct hit on Lily."

Malfoy muses for a moment. "You might remark to people that Mudblood girls are more carnal than cats in heat. Which is true, by the way. None of this prissy pureblooded distaste for, ah, variations on the theme."

Ambring looks startled. "Pureblooded girls aren't into raunchy sex?"

Malfoy smirks at him. "Why do you think I sleep with boys?"

"Bloody hell," groans Ambring. "I can't start on boys, Malfoy. I just...urgh."

"Mistresses," says Malfoy, waving a dismissive hand. "Marry an appropriate woman and keep mistresses. In the meantime, out Lily Evans as a hot slut. I promise you, it will be very satisfying."

"That won't hurt her where she lives. I want you to scare her. Tell her she's high on our hit list. Freak the hell out of her. I mean, seriously, Malfoy. We lost to Hufflepuff."

Malfoy laughs. "There are worse things than genocide." He has to stop himself from automatically adding, I'll have to tell Sirius.

*

The next day, Sirius walks out of the dining hall to hear Malfoy's voice in the foyer, soft with venom. Lily is facing him, shivering with rage, tears starting in her eyes. Sirius walks over, drapes an arm around her, and smiles his blinding smile at Malfoy. "Everything all right over here?"

"Black. Don't you look...protective. What do you want?"

"Just taking an interest in the happiness of the lovely Lily."

"Sirius," says Lily angrily, shaking him off, "I don't need you to defend me."

"Is that right?" He touches her face gently as she looks away. "Why are you crying?"

"You heard the lady. I think you should get out of here."

"Or what?" asks Sirius, pleasantly. They square off, Malfoy smug, Sirius no longer smiling. He says, without looking at her, "I'll do whatever you want, Lily. Should I go?"

Malfoy says, "What an impressive guard dog, Miss Evans. I wonder whether you've enjoyed any of his other, ah, capabilities."

Lily's expression hardens. "You disgust me, Malfoy. With all your idiotic mumbo jumbo about my future. You and your inbred army haven't a prayer. And you," turning to Sirius, "What side are you even on?"

"Mumbo jumbo?" Malfoy cocks an eyebrow. "Am I right that that's a skeptical Muggle term for magic? Miss Evans. Six and a half years and still---"

Lily says, "Malfoy. Shut up. We're done here. If you two want an audience for your little homoerotic drama, it won't be me."

"But, darling," says Malfoy silkily, leaning toward her, "I know how much you like to watch."

Sirius inserts himself instantly between them and punches Malfoy hard in the face. Malfoy staggers, recovers, and swings at Sirius. Sirius grabs his arm, tumbling into him and then they are rolling across the floor, grappling.

Malfoy, on top, braces his forearm against Sirius's throat, and says, "So you want it a little rougher. I can do that."

Their faces are very close together. Sirius can see Malfoy looking at his mouth. He takes advantage of his loss of focus to flip him over, straddles him, and grabs his wrists.

Malfoy writhes slightly and murmurs, "I'd be happy to let the little Mudblood watch."

"Shut up, Lucius."

"You did warn me to stay away from her. But I've lost track of the threat. It was overshadowed by the, ah, kissing."

Sirius is pretty sure that he threatened to beat Malfoy until he couldn't talk, but right now he is suddenly very conscious of Malfoy's long body beneath him and Malfoy's erection pressing into his leg. He has never been more relieved to feel Remus grabbing him around his shoulders and yanking him to his feet.

Remus's eyes are hooded and unreadable. Sirius shrugs free and straightens his clothes. Blood is running from his nose.

Malfoy has a cut on one cheekbone and will have a black eye. He shakes off the two Gryffindors holding him, looks at Remus looking at Sirius, and belatedly registers the way Sirius's eyes dropped shut with relief when Remus dragged them apart. He shoots a piercing look at Remus and says to Sirius, "So. Rougher indeed."

Sirius ignores him and walks over to Lily. "All right?"

"No thanks to you. And don't pretend that was about me. I'm not sure why you broke up with him. You obviously can't keep your hands off him. Nor do I appreciate your beating up Corwyn. I hope you know he won't be able to play Quidditch for a month." Remus's eyebrows shoot to the top of his head.

Sirius looks at her for a slow moment and says, "He's always irritating someone who can keep him off the Quidditch field."

"Do you ever actually talk to anyone, Sirius? Or is it all just fighting or fucking?" Sirius looks shocked and then contrite. Lily sighs. "Look, I know you care about James, but please just stay away from us."

Sirius watches her leave and then turns to see Remus looking at him. Remus says, "Glad to see you've gotten that all straightened out." Sirius snorts and rubs at his bloody face with his sleeve. Remus continues, "Two days till the full moon. Just us, this time, I think."

"Believe me, Moony, I can't tell you how I'm looking forward to it."

Remus, watching Sirius walk away, thinks, No. And I can't tell you, either.