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What am I gonna do?
Jack found himself wallowing in self-pity quite often. Things had been…difficult for him here at school. Coming from a family of all muggle-borns, he faced the never-ending taunting and the sneering, curling lip of Draco Malfoy as he whispered “mudblood” behind his back. But as he grew older, Jack began to make quite the reputation for himself. From bewitching the suits of armor to snatch up the first years, to turning the toilets into fountains, turning the morning tea into brandy. Yes, sir, Jack had made quite the name for himself. Trouble.
But he wasn’t all that bad. He had make seeker for the house team as a fourth year, and held the title ever since. He was pretty good at school too, he even made Snape smile once. Mind you, just once, but it counted in his book. McLoughlins were always good at rubbing people the right way. But if there was one thing that Jack would never bet his wand on, it was transfiguration. He was the absolute worst at it. And he hated McGonagall too, the old bat.
But if there was someone he hated even more than McGonagall, it was Fischbach.
“Fischbach,”
he sneered as he knotted his tie in the mirror. Mark was McGonagall’s favorite. And he always knew the answer, or had the right technique. He had even shoved Granger out of top marks last semester. Now that was saying something. But today was the day that Jack decided to swallow his pride and just ask the dork for help. If he didn’t do something about his grades soon, he was going to be spending an awful lot of time helping Hagrid muck out the hippogriff stables. And nobody wanted that task.
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Jack ducked into his seat next to Blaise, cursing himself for being late. Without halting her writing, McGonagall spoke curtly,
“so glad that you could join us, Mister McLoughlin.”
She turned, hands clasped behind her back, her narrow eyes trained on Jack. He visibly shrank back in the seat.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
She nodded, adjusting her glasses.
“Today we will be focusing on transfiguring living subjects into items of importance, and vice versa. This will follow along the lines of ‘vera verto' which all of you should have learned in second year.”
Most of the students nodded in agreement with the professor, however Jack wanted to crawl under his desk and die.
Christ. I couldn’t even turn a fucking rat into a cup.
“However,” McGonagall continued, “these spells will be significantly more difficult.”
Great. Just great.
McGonagall had them read an excerpt out of their spell books for a little while before she asked if someone would like to demonstrate what they had learned. Jack made it blatantly obvious that he in no way wanted to be called upon. Yet he cringed when he heard his name. All eyes flickered to him and he felt a hot blush creep into his face.
“Um…I’m afraid I’m still coming to terms with the…difficulty of the technique…ma’am…”
She pursed her lips slightly before turning. She completely surpassed Hermione’s pleading look and turned to Mark.
“Mister Fischbach, would you care to show the class how to properly execute the spell seeing as some of your classmates are experiencing some…difficulties.”
Thanks
Jack thought.
Way to throw me under the bus.
Mark stood, almost bowing before McGonagall as if she were some highly esteemed sorceress or a deity.
“With pleasure, Madame.”
“Oh give over…”
Jack muttered, bumping elbows with Zabini, who seemed to agree.
Mark removed his wand from within his jacket, holding it by both ends, then gesturing with open arms towards the class as if he were teaching.
“It really is quite simple,”
he started.
Simple my sweet arse,
Jack mused to himself. Mark easily conjured a serpent, then with a flick of his wrist and some overly fancy, unnecessary flourish, turned the snake to a rope before it ever hit the ground. Some of the other students clapped with amazement, giving Mark pats on the back.
Easy. Pffft.
He could do this. He straightened up, rolling up the sleeves of his starchy, white shirt, and licked his lips. He tried his hardest to transfigure the quill at the corner of his desk into a colorful pheasant but he got as far as sending the quill up in flames.
Bugger. Well this fucking sucks. Fuck this, I fold.
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By the time class was over, Jack was feeling more than discouraged. After Professor McGonagall had tried to help him by letting him try to turn her from cat into slippers and he hadn’t even been able to get the stripes off her, the whole class had laughed at him. And Mark was like a superstar, transfiguring shit left and right as if it were the easiest thing in the world. People were filing out, heading out to the courtyard, or to the library, or their next class and McGonagall was patting his back with a,
“you’ll get it eventually, dear.”
Jack sighed slumping back in his chair. It was now or never.
“Hey, Mark?”
He stood from his chair, shoving his books underneath his arm as he approached the Hufflepuff. Mark turned and looked around, his eyes landing on Jack, a bit startled.
“McLoughlin? What do you want? Shove me in a broom closet perhaps?”
His tone was clipped and Jack shifted the weight of his books uncomfortably.
“Uh…no actually…I wanted to ask you…well I was wondering…”
Just spit it out!
“Christ, I wanted to know if you would help me study.”
“Study?”
“That’s what I said didn’t I?”
Jack was growing irritated with this game. It was like Fischbach was sizing him up like a bug and if he should be crushed.
“Why do you want my help?”
Jack sighed, throwing his hands up into the air, then dropping them so that they slapped loudly against his thighs.
“Because you’re smart. Like really smart. Smarter than Granger.”
Mark pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek.
“I’ll think about it.”
And then he left, leaving Jack standing dumbfounded in the middle of the classroom.
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The next morning, he was sitting at the table, talking in a cocksure manner to his mates when there was an enormous thud next to him that caused him to drop his spoon into his cereal with an audible ‘clank.’ He looked to the source of the disturbance and saw Mark standing with a hand fussing with the strap of his bag as he stood next to a stack of books. Jack allowed himself a moment to laugh.
“Fischbach. What’re you doing here?”
The other Slytherins agreed in a low murmuring at Jack’s statement. But Mark took a visible breath and stood his ground.
“You asked for my help Sean. So I’m here to offer it.”
Some of the boys at the table looked outlandishly at Jack, then to Mark. Nobody called him Sean except for teachers and people looking for an ass-kicking. Jack smirked cockily before standing, crossing his arms, trying to appear intimidating.
“Your help? Why would I want your help?”
He sneered at the Hufflepuff, his upper lip curling like an animal. Mark huffed, appearing to be chewing on his lip.
“If I knew that you were just going to waste my time I would never have even listened to your whiny-ass plea. You want help, go ask someone else.”
Jack grabbed the back of Mark’s cardigan and dragged him to the entrance of the hall by the fabric of the neck.
“What now?!”
Mark barked at Jack, drawing the attention of some Ravenclaws entering for breakfast. Jack looked off to the side.
“I still want your help. I really do.”
“Then what was that…that theatre act?”
A red blush bloomed along the collar of Jack’s shirt.
“Oh, I see. You don’t want your friends to know about this little escapade.”
Jack made a noise.
“Mark…please…”
The Hufflepuff took a moment to stare into imploring blue eyes before nodding.
“Fine. Meet me in the library later. Say one o’clock?”
Jack nodded in concurrence.
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He arrived at the library late. As usual. It was trademark McLoughlin fashion. Mark, however, didn’t think it was very funny and gave the Slytherin a hearty stinging jinx in reprimand. Jack looked at him sourly as he took a seat. Mark protruded a thick book from within the confines of his bag, which Jack could only assume had an undetectable extension charm, what else, and dropped it on the table. Jack gawked at the book, open-mouthed.
“Is this a joke?”
He reached a set of slender fingers for the book and stared vengefully at the title. Transfiguration for Idiots.
“You’re joking right?”
The Hufflepuff leaned back in his chair, a self-assured smirk breaking up his face.
“I would never joke about something like this.”
Jack leaned over the edge of the table, pointing his wand menacingly at Mark.
“I will end you.”
Mark laughed cynically.
“Alright, alright. Jesus, take a joke, princess.”
Mark took out the spell book for seventh years and opened it to one of the simplest spells. He began a long, elaborate speech about how all of the components of the spell worked, droning on and on. He let Jack try his hand at it, who failed miserably. Mark got up from his seat and came up behind the Slytherin, placing his hand on Jack’s wrist, showing him how to properly execute the wand motions. Jack felt hot all of a sudden with Mark so close to him he could smell the musk of his cologne. It was…enticing. He felt Mark snap his wrist and, much to Jack’s astonishment, the spell turned out exactly as it was supposed to.
“Now you try it, by yourself.”
Jack took a deep breath, raising his wand. His gaze flickered over to the Hufflepuff, who was watching him with a curious gaze. Jack had to use every ounce of strength that he possessed to tear his eyes off that alluring chocolate gaze. He flicked his wrist and….
“Success!”
He cried, a little loudly he might add. Some nearby library-goers shushed him in response. He cringed slightly and looked back at Mark. The Hufflepuff was smiling at him.
“Good job. Did it all by yourself. See? There’s nothing to it if you just use your head.”
“Yeah…use your head…well…you’re a good teacher.”
Mark let out a hearty chuckle, standing.
“You flatter me, McLoughlin. But you do seem to possess the skills needed to master the art that is transfiguration.”
Jack scrambled to his feet.
“You’re leaving?”
He almost sounded disappointed. Almost.
“I’ve got Muggle Studies shortly. Don’t want to be late.”
He shot Jack a sly smirk, but the Slytherin jumped at the opportunity.
“Here, I’ll walk ya! I’ve got class near there anyway. Charms…boo…”
“Um…ok…”
So they walked out of the library together. And Jack felt almost…giddy. Almost.
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It had been nearly three weeks since Mark started tutoring Jack. Things were going surprisingly well; Jack was improving remarkably under Mark’s trained eye. But as much as Mark was a great teacher, Jack was finding it increasingly harder to concentrate under the Hufflepuff’s gaze. Professor McGonagall was so pleased by Jack’s improvements that she let Mark and him use her classroom for an hour each day while she went to the daily faculty meeting.
Today was like any other day, except that Jack wasn’t paying any attention to what Mark was saying. He was watching his lips move though. His full, pink lips…he wondered what they’d look like wrapped around his hard, milky white-
“Are you even paying attention?!”
His head snapped up at the sound of Mark’s stern voice. The Hufflepuff sighed.
“You weren’t were you?”
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, flipping through the pages of the spell book. He pointed to one with the tip of his wand.
“Here, try this one.”
A sly look crossed the Slytherin’s face.
“I’ve got a better idea.”
He leaned over, closing the space between them and covered Mark’s mouth with his own. The Hufflepuff tried to refuse Jack’s kisses, pushing at his chest.
“Jack! What’re you doing?! McGonagall could be back at any moment!”
Jack licked the Hufflepuff’s upper lip.
“Shut up Mark. This I’m good at.”
He moved from his chair onto Mark’s lap, threading one hand through the long, dark locks at the base of the other’s neck. He shifted his hips, rolling them down ever so slightly against Mark’s. The Hufflepuff moaned into his mouth. The Slytherin laughed darkly.
“You like that?”
Mark nodded vigorously and so Jack repeated the motion, earning another deep moan from the Hufflepuff. He had shifted his hand to Jack’s side, gripping him tightly through the dark cardigan. Jack moved his torso back to strip off the article of clothing, taking the tails of his shirt out of his trousers. He slipped a slender finger into the knot of his tie, loosening it some. Jack reached out and grabbed at Mark’s, tightening up the yellow tie so tight that the Hufflepuff grabbed at the Slytherin’s hand. But Jack slapped it away, pulling tighter, covering Mark’s mouth with his own in a heated kiss as he pushed himself up onto his knees on Mark’s lap. Despite Mark’s distress, Jack noticed that the Hufflepuff’s pupils were blown wide and his breaths were short and panting. Jack smirked, dropping his free hand between Mark’s legs, cupping at the strain in the dark material.
“See? I know what I’m doing.”
He pulled on Mark’s tie to bring him closer, running his tongue along the Hufflepuff’s teeth, seeking entrance. Mark tilted his neck slightly, allowing the Slytherin access. Jack ran his tongue along the roof of Mark’s mouth and the other boy moaned. A little smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. He pulled back, finally loosening Mark’s tie, undoing a few buttons on his shirt. He dropped hot kisses to the skin of the other’s throat and neck, enjoying the way the dark stubble scraped at his face.
“I guess you could say that I’m hot for teacher.”
Mark wrapped a strong grip around Jack’s right thigh, his other hand pulling with enough force at the Slytherin’s hair to obtain a moan. Mark’s hand pressed at the swell in Jack’s trousers, making the Slytherin buck his hips. He raked his nails down the Hufflepuff’s back, feeling the other boy arch like a cat at the stimulus.
Their kisses became sloppier and wetter, their hands lingered for longer. Jack snapped his teeth at the tip of Mark’ nose, licking at the shell of his ear. Mark ran his hands up under the Slytherin’s shirt, mapping out the milky skin underneath his hands. Jack hooked two fingers over the waist of the Hufflepuff’s slacks, loosening his belt when he heard someone clear their voice loudly.
“Shouldn’t you be studying Mister McLoughlin?”
Jack jumped off Mark’s lap, running a hand through his messy hair, tightening up his tie. He wouldn’t even look McGonagall in the eye, just hid behind his textbook. He took deep short breaths, something skittering by his feet catching his attention. He pointed his wand, flicked his wrist, and picked the foil packet up off the ground, brandishing it with a grin to Mark.
“Flawless technique, Mister McLoughlin. I however would suggest you pick a more appropriate object to conjure in the future.”
Jack’s entire face went tomato red as McGonagall went and sat down at her desk. Jack looked straight ahead at his book, but he couldn’t help but notice that Mark took the condom off the desk and slipped it into his pocket. He looked at Jack’s leering gaze and flushed.
“I’ll have you know, not all my tutoring sessions go like this.”
“How many then?”
Mark flushed even deeper.
“Just yours.”
Jack smirked. It looked like his McLoughlin charm had come in handy once again.