Nox (Part II)
“Please tell me you’re not dating Jaime Lannister.” Robb whined, his red and black tie hanging askew. Sansa always did think it was a pity he had been sorted to Gryffindor - the colours clashed horribly with his hair.
Jon piped up, “He’s a Lannister and a Slytherin. Have you lost your marbles? They’re completely unbearable.”
A third-year Ravenclaw boy walking past shot the Stark siblings a dirty look; it was Tyrion, the youngest Lannister brother. Sansa was aware how her peers bullied the boy, both for his small stature, and for the facial scars he bore. Irritated at her brothers, she exacted revenge as best as she could.
“Oh we’re not dating, it’s purely a physical thing. The sex is mindblowing.” Sansa replaced a library book onto a close-by shelf. “I mean, have you seen his body?”
“I did not need to hear that.” Jon said miserably.
Since she left the infirmary two weeks ago, the Slytherin prefect had taken to trailing her every step, except when his own classes and duties necessarily required him to be elsewhere. It was as if she’d gained an extra shadow after her time in the Hospital Wing.
“Anyway, it’s his last year. What’s the worst that could happen?” Sansa asked, then added thoughtfully. “I mean, I could get pregnant. Oh my god, how adorable would our babies be?”
“So adorable.” Jaime deadpanned from a few feet away.
Oh Merlin, why was there never a hole in the ground when she needed one?
“And before we start the ‘stay away from my sister’ conversation, let’s all remember to be civil. There’s a lady in our midst and she won’t like it when I kick all your arses straight to Manchester.” the prefect drawled.
“I’d like to see you try,” Robb snarled.
“Oh my god, Robb, stop being so medieval.” Sansa rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing going on between us, outside of some passionate sarcasm. If you recall, he was the one who saved me from those muggers…”
It was almost shocking, how easily everyone bought the lie. Even her own brothers.
“That is unfortunately true.” Jon sighed, before adding with a modicum of ferocity, “But we’ll be watching you Lannister.”
“That was…original.” Jaime watched as her brothers stalked away. The older boy checked his surroundings carefully, as if weary of eavesdroppers. Phantom pain shot up the back of her skull as Sansa observed the prefect with growing apprehension.
“My sister. She’s getting herself mixed up with some fairly unpleasant individuals. You think Hardying was bad news…but she’s been hanging about with the likes of Dolohov and Lestrange. Psychotic shits, the lot of them. It’s not good news for you.”
“We’re in Hogwarts, what could she possibly do to me?” Sansa did her best to sound casual as she cross-checked her reading list.
“You’re not listening. And you’re being extremely stubborn or naive, or both.” Jaime shook his head.
The Seeker looked over at him in growing discomfort. “Can’t you just tell her you don’t find me attractive in the least? Feel free to make with the adjectives.”
“You’re assuming I haven’t tried.” Jaime ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “I believe at one point, I used the word ‘repugnant’.”
Under any other circumstance, Sansa supposed she would have been offended. Instead, she felt ridiculously touched, knowing that the Slytherin had tried so hard to emphasize how unattractive he found her.
“It’s Tom Riddle.” Sansa could hear an undercurrent of rage in his voice. “He’s come back, and he’s getting people all stirred up. He’s gotten to my father, and now he’s coming for Cersei.”
“Tom Riddle?” she repeated nervously. The whole school knew who Tom Riddle was, even if most of them had never met him. His name was spoken of in frightened whispers. Ned, her own father, spoke vehemently against the anti-Muggleborn sentiment that had been on the rise thanks to that one heretic. It was a movement she had been doing her best to ignore, not out of a lack of sympathy, but simply because she didn’t quite know what to think.
“Mother died in a Muggle hospital, and thus, by Father’s logic, all Muggles must suffer.” Jaime’s voice took on a note of grief. “It’s as if mediwizards and Muggle doctors hadn’t all told him the same thing: that there was no cure for what ailed her. Riddle’s been capitalizing on his grief, and our deep pockets.”
Sansa found herself wanting to give the boy in front of her a hug. At the same time, she wished once again that she was anywhere else at all. Ironic, given that she was currently tucked away in the stacks with one of the most sought after boys in the entire school. At least half the female population in Hogwarts would have given an arm to be in her position.
The late afternoon sun streaming in through the latticed windows of the castle gave the whole scene a somewhat dreamlike quality, she couldn’t help but think. Jaime’s golden hair catching in the light, his sombre green eyes…
“Don’t start looking at me like that.” he warned, expression changing from grief to something else not entirely quantifiable. While Sansa was by no means an expert in such things, instinct told her that he didn’t truly mean those words.
“Are you sure you mind it all that much?” she found herself asking.
***
“Are you sure you mind it all that much?”
The girl had no idea. None. The real problem was that he very much wasn’t sure if he didn’t enjoy her frank appraisal after all.
He hadn’t been sure since the end to that stupid game, when the two of them had floated above the crowds like some goddam picture of romantic perfection. The Ravenclaw Seeker had most certainly set off an unexpected spark inside of him the moment his arm had wrapped itself around her slender waist. Was it lust? Attraction? Admiration?
Not that it mattered at the moment. What Jaime did know was that the memory of that scene, was currently driving his sister over the edge, into an abyss of madness he could not and would not follow. Perhaps Cersei’s current state of mind was borne of grief over their mother’s death, but he wouldn’t put money on it.
“This isn’t a game.” he bit harshly and gripped her shoulders tightly, trying to drive home the danger she was in. His sister did not do things by halves. To interfere with what she considered to be hers wrought calamitous results.
He would know. After all, he had been there when Tyrion ended up with that deep scar running down the length of his face. The young boy had accidentally ripped the hem of his older sister’s new dress robes one fateful evening, and before anyone could have stopped her, Cersei had hit their baby brother with a vicious hex.
“The wound will scar, but it’ll heal. What of it?” he overheard his father saying much later that same night as his parents conferred in Tywin’s study. “It’s not as if he would have been normal otherwise. The boy’s a dwarf.”
“He’s your son.” Joanna had hissed defensively, clutching at a glass of scotch as if it were a shield. “How could you be so callous?”
“What would you have me do? Should I have our daughter drawn and quartered for her sins?” Tywin demanded, slamming his own tumbler of firewhisky against his desk. “The boy will be fine, and Cersei will grow out of her flighty ways.”
Whether or not anyone had noticed, that was the day Jaime had learned never to leave Tyrion alone with his sister or his father if he could help it. No matter that he loved his sister from the bottom of his heart, he had no illusions as to what she was capable of, when angered.
"What do you expect me to do exactly? I can't exactly leave Hogwarts," Sansa asked, twisting out of his unintentionally bruising grip. "We could go to a Professor..."
"And tell them what?" Jaime stepped closer.
While his love for Cersei may have been souring of late, and even with the irrational urge growing within him to keep Sansa safe, the prefect had no desire to see his twin being led away by Aurors. That would most certainly happen, once it came out that his sister deliberately tried to have the Ravenclaw Seeker hurt.
"They're adults, they should know Riddle is recruiting at Hogwarts. Its their duty to..."
"Listen to yourself. Do you think for a second that Riddle's activities are going unnoticed?" Jaime laughed mirthlessly. "A war is gathering above our heads Sansa. You'd notice it if you weren't so obsessed with boys, and dress robes."
The slap was not altogether unexpected, in hindsight. It was her reaction after she struck him though...the rise and fall of her chest as she glared at him in glorious rage...
Jaime studied with undisguised interest, Sansa’s flushed cheeks and clear blue eyes.
The whole school already thought they were an item. In fact, the whole mess they were in, started because Cersei suspected they were engaged in some non-existent illicit affair. The only two who hadn’t done a blessed thing about the whole situation were the two people standing squarely in the eye of the storm.
Why shouldn’t he reap some benefits out of this?
Moving swiftly, Jaime closed the distance between himself and Sansa, leaving the girl pressed up against the bookshelf behind her with an expression of utter surprise. Perhaps it was only his imagination, but the Ravenclaw Seeker stilled smelled faintly of the bitter tang of blood, same as the night he pulled her from the alley.
It was not, in fact, an undesirable scent.
"Jaime..." she murmured, no longer as sure of herself as she had been only a minute ago. The seventh year prefect planted his hands on the wooden ledges by her head, effectively trapping her in the circle of his body.
In answer to her unspoken question, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She tasted like girl and sweetness, like dreams and smoke. Even as he relished the feel of her skin against his, Jaime wondered if he’d just made a huge mistake. There was no chance he didn’t want to do this again, and again, and again…
"What really happened to Harrold?" she asked the moment he pulled away, which rather spoiled the moment in his opinion.
"What do you think happened?" he asked, slipping his right hand to press against the small of her back possessively, pulling her body against his.
"I think...I think I left him in the alley, and that's all I know." She eyed him critically. It was clear she was not unaffected by the kiss however, judging from the way her breathing had devolved into a broken rhythm.
Gently, he brushed her scarlet hair off her face.
"You wouldn't let me report him, and I couldn't have him running around threatening younger students - and I certainly couldn't have him thinking that there weren’t any consequences to what he tried to do to you. If you really want to know, I did what was necessary, plus a little more than that. Hardying will never darken the doors of this castle ever again."
When first they had spoken, he had joked that Sansa had a bit of Slytherin in her. It was meant to irritate her, to anger her. No Stark had ever been sorted into the House of Serpents in the history of the Stark family - the textbooks had always been sure to make note of it.
Observing the tiniest of smirks at the corner of her lips, Jaime couldn't help but wonder how useful that sorting hat truly was. The girl had a ruthless streak about her that appealed to him at a very fundamental level.
Unconsciously, her cheek tilted towards him in such a way as to betray what it was she wanted. Laughing softly, Jaime complied with her wishes.
Neither of them heard Taena Merryweather's sharp gasp as she caught sight of their embrace, and so did not stop her as she quietly exited the library, triumphant that she had a juicy bit of gossip to share with the entire school.
***
The next few weeks were odd for Jaime.
Lessons and homework could not hold his attention, though to be fair, they never did before. Patrols around the castle, busting snogging fifth years and deducting points…all of it felt like boring routine. Even Quidditch practice, the only thing he had really cared for once upon a time, did nothing to pique his interest.
His whole world had narrowed down to thoughts of Sansa, and when he could see her again. There was a growing need to know that she was safe and unscathed. His sister had barely spoken to him since that night in the infirmary, and had made no further advances upon the girl since, but he wasn’t naive enough to trust that Cersei had given up on her little vendetta. The longer it took for the other shoe to drop however, the worse his anxiety.
It was perhaps foolishness on his part. They were, each and every one of the students, under the watchful eye of one of the most powerful wizards in the history of the Wizarding world. Their teachers, without exception, were all capable of protecting their charges.
So where were they, the night Hardying almost raped Sansa?
Jaime tried not to consider what could have happened, if he had not decided to do one last sweep of the town that night. Would Sansa have been assaulted and left unconscious in the cold and dark? Had the plan been to leave her for dead?
He should have killed the boy, he thought with a certain level of homicidal fury, each time he recalled how Hardying had put his hands all over Sansa's helpless body and how the bastard had so callously caused her to bleed. The ferocity of his murderous instincts as it related to the girl's safety frightened him, but only because he had a feeling he would not stay his hand the next time someone laid a finger on her. If ever there was a next time that is, which he prayed there never would be, both for her sake and for his own
There were times he wished that Sansa had just let him be during that Quidditch match. The girl's good intentions had been rewarded with nothing but Cersei’s vitriol, jealousy and violence.
There was another part of him however, that whispered it wasn’t only her safety he cared so much about, even though her wellbeing was in fact, absolutely becoming everything to him.
It was the part of him that wanted to taste her, wanted to thread his fingers through her hair, wanted to peel away the layers of her robes, and claim her sweetness for himself…
“How did I not see you before?” she asked him once, a dreamy quality in her eyes as he drew his attention from the smooth of her neck.
“I must have told you this by now, but your taste in men…it’s not very good.” he had chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers as he squeezed her hand in undisguised affection.
Was this what it was like to be a normal teenage boy?
With Cersei, there had never been any doubt that he wanted and loved her, not when they had been so intimately tied from the moment of conception. They were a part of each other, and perhaps, they always would be, no matter if he never touched her again.
But this thing with Sansa - this was different. This was different and strangely enough, it felt right in a way he’d never expected.
There was an obvious added plus to his distracted state - thinking of those fleeting moments was far more preferable than listening to Professor Binn’s endless droning.
***
“Hey, Lannister, what you did for Robb’s sister was really something.” Sirius Black remarked as they left the potions classroom. The other boy was completely oblivious to the look of rage Cersei was casting him. “It was very Gryffindor of you, honestly. Just wanted you to know that, before we all graduate and never see each other again.”
Him? Like a lion? Were the Gryffindors so arrogant they thought it a compliment to be compared to one of theirs?
Jaime stared dispassionately at his classmate, recalling suddenly as he did so, Sansa’s old and ridiculous crush on Black. Inexplicably, he found himself wanting to hex Sirius into oblivion.
“I should hope not. All that red and gold. Much too gauche for my tastes,” Jaime responded flatly, and stalked away. He was aware of course, that it wasn’t Sirius’ fault Sansa had been so obsessed with him once upon a time. Everyone knew exactly who warmed his bed.
As he stepped turned a corner, a familiar hand reached out and touched his elbow. There was no need for him to look, to know exactly who it was.
“Can we talk?” Cersei asked, her voice surprisingly even. Almost as an afterthought, she added, “Please?”
Tilting his gaze, Jaime took in his twin sister, noting to his satisfaction that she looked about as sleep deprived as he was.
“I know its been hard, with Mother…with Mother gone. I know I haven’t been behaving quite as well as I should’ve been.” she whispered.
“Are you absolutely sure this is where we should be having this discussion?” he looked at her questioningly. “The things you’ve tried to do recently - that’s guaranteed to put you in Azkaban. Spending a year or three with dementors won’t do much for your complexion.”
Her eyes flashed angrily at him, but he watched as she made an obvious effort to tamp her fury into something manageable.
“I don’t want to lose you.” she stepped in close, running her elegant hands over his chest. “Please Jaime…we belong together. You know its true. We’ve always belonged together.”
Jaime could feel the shape of her body through her green robes, could feel his own body responding as she moulded her thighs against his. Already, he could see himself pulling her robes away as he shoved her up against the wall. It had been so long since he’d last sheathed himself inside her warmth, but the fact was - a part of him missed her.
Though, as he looked into her eyes, all he could think of was Sansa’s trusting gaze. It was enough to make him hesitate, enough so that he remained unmoved under his sister’s ministrations.
“Jaime please,” she whispered. “I need you.”
The prefect’s eyes narrowed. The truth was, Jaime had never cared to keep their relationship a secret. As far as he had been concerned, he could give a shit if the whole world knew of what he shared with Cersei. The magical community loved their purebloods, and it wasn’t as if incest was uncommon throughout history. Moreover, if it kept the other boys away, even better. He was tired of warning off his teenaged peers from sniffing after his sister as if she were a particularly tasty morsel.
Cersei’s sudden desire to drape herself all over him in plain view was utterly unlike her. She had never wanted anyone to know of what passed between the two of them, not in the five years since they had begun exploring each other’s bodies.
“What are you…” Jaime began. That was when he felt the jab of a wand against his ribs, and understood.
Horror washed over him, as he watched her lips form a single spell.
“Imperio.”
***
“Not even one tiny detail?” Jeyne whined at Sansa’s elbow as they hurried between classes.
“About what?” Sansa asked crossly as she rummaged through her bag. “Jeyne, did you take my Arithmancy homework by mistake? I swear, it was just here…”
“Maybe you left it down by the lake,” her friend giggled. “While Jaime was tutoring you.”
“Ergh.” Sansa threw her hands in the air.
“Everyone knows who your new boyfriend is Sansa…Taena’s been telling everyone.” Jeyne prattled happily. “She says you two have been going at it everywhere.”
Sansa felt a wee bit queasy, but reminded herself not to be stupid. Everyone had been buzzing for a while now about the state of the Stark girl’s love life. Being the only daughter of an old and prestigious family had its drawbacks, Sansa was beginning to find. Given how often she found herself slipping away with Jaime, a scion of yet another family withlineage, it had only been a matter of time before their little ‘dates’ became common knowledge.
His sister had not approached her since, or tried anything untoward aside from casting her a few dark glares. Perhaps the whole thing had blown over, and they could all move on with their lives - at least, that was her hope.
“He is your boyfriend isn’t he?” Jeyne peered over at her curiously. “You two had the talk?”
Forcing her voice to remain neutral, Sansa replied, “He’s about to leave Hogwarts. I think you’re making too much of a few silly rumours.”
Sansa didn’t want, or need to have her heart broken by the time summer rolled around, she told herself. Which was why she hadn’t even brought up the subject with him, choosing instead, to just let things happen as they would.
There had been moments when he would look at her, and she could just tell that he wanted to say things they’d both probably regret in the light of day. Her only course of action during those times was simply to plant one on him, distracting him long enough until the moment passed. It made her heart ache in a strange way that she wasn’t accustomed to, and she didn’t quite like it.
At the same time however, it was getting harder and harder not to drown in the depths of his emerald eyes. Down by the frozen lake at night, when it was just the two of them wrapped under a heating charm beneath a hidden ledge, the girl was beginning to discover just how much her body very simply wanted.
“That Wildsmith boy,” he had whispered a few nights ago as his hands roamed the edges of her sweater, drifting further and further upwards and under. “I don't like how he finds it necessary to touch you at every turn.”
“Rory?” She laughed. “He's a nice boy. We’re thinking of taking a lot of the same classes next term…”
Jaime pressed his lips hard against her mouth, making her forget momentarily what it was they'd been speaking of in the first place. It was clear he hadn't forgotten, however, when he picked up the thread minutes later.
“Just because I'm graduating, doesn't mean I don’t want…” he started.
“Please, let’s not.” She had begged quietly. Already, the thought of coming back to a castle without him in it felt…wrong. Jaime gave her one of his trademarked smirks in response, as if he knew something she didn't, and Merlin, if that hadn't melted her insides.
In the hallways outside her Arithmancy classroom, the Ravenclaw Seeker gave up on her search for her homework in her bag. An accio proved pointless when no parchments came flying towards her from wherever they had disappeared to. Finally, Sansa declared, shaking her head in exasperation, “I’m going back to the common room.”
Hurrying away from the crowd, Sansa made her way through hallways emptied of students and climbed several lonely stairwells, before she made it to the Ravenclaw wing.
As she made to step through into the common room, the Seeker had no time to scream at the sight of the two strange men waiting within, before a silencing curse struck her full in the chest, followed by a painful hex which rendered her unconscious.
The larger of the two slung her limp body over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing more than a child. With a pop, the two figures disappeared.
The anti-apparition wards which Hogwarts boasted of - they all remained utterly silent on the matter.