Author's Notes: if any There are allusions to Hamlet in this fic. You don't necessarily have to be familiar with the whole play, just familiar to the idea of death and suicide. Also, this doesn't bash or bastardize Percy in any way.

Credits: The scenario is from the Fic Carnival featuring Oliver/Percy slash by the POWSN yahoo!group. Booth: Ghost Ride. Scenario #9: "How can death be sleep when life is but a dream?" ~John Keats

This fic is based on charaters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. A disclaimer is applied to Shakespeare's Hamlet as well.

The Sorcerer

Chapter 2

whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer...part b

By Dixi Nihil

       

I sucked his semen-blood covered prick clean, wanting nothing more than to drink down a whole bottle of brandy to clean my palate and haze my mind. My mouth was upon his again, kissing.

Kissing.

When I first kissed Lucius my world was turned upside down, and I found myself beneath him panting for more. He was such a lovely kisser. With lips like his, plump and juicy like a strawberry, he couldn't be anything else. Except that he could. He sucked me dry. Teeth gnashed at my lips, his tongue seeking total submission, invading my mouth as well as my thoughts. All I could think of was how things have changed. Even as he takes me again, (this time, I'm on my back facing him), I think of how our relationship changed, and why it changed. I was young when he first sought after me, only in my fifth year. I was at my most vulnerable stage at the time due to my shock at discovering that I was *much* more partial to men than women. Much thanks to Mr. Oliver Wood who insisted on sleeping in the nude at night and walking around in his birthday suit after he showered. Much to my embarrasment, Oliver often cracked jokes at my dilemma, after discovering my *books.* Yes, I also had a secret collection of homoerotica stashed under my bed. He insisted that his practice snitch rolled under my bed and was only planning on to retrieve it.

I never even saw him holding a practice snitch at the time, so I knew he was lying. After that, I refused to talk to him for the remainder of the week. I also avoided looking at him straight in his eyes; I often found myself blushing, to my dismay. He was beautiful, but his eyes saw too much. He knew of my preferences. He was also the object of my affection, and later on that year, the boy that I grew to deeply love.

Somehow, Lucius got to me first. There was a quidditch game, Slytherin against Gryffindor. Lucius wanted to see his son play, but much to his chagrin, Draco failed miserably and once again, Harry beat him to the snitch sealing Gryffindor's victory. After the spectacular play (well, Gryffindor *did* win after all, and Oliver looked spectacular), I hurried off to finish the latest book that I had acquired, intrigued by the author's penchant for bondage.

Lucius Malfoy found me before I could even get up the stairs.

He looked angry due to his son's miserable performance, but when he first laid his eyes on me, I knew that my life would never be the same again. (I'm discovering this even now, even when he's above me, panting, animalistic, plunging himself deep within me harshly, his nails digging into my narrow hips). I didn't know what overcame him in that moment, but without a doubt he strode over in my direction and held my chin in his strong, white hand, evaluating my face: my eyes, nose, and probably the blush that appeared on the apples of my cheeks. And then he kissed me.

He *kissed* me.

I soon found myself in the boys' dormitory, with Lucius atop of me, in my bed. He was kissing me senseless, about as senseless as to why we were doing this in the first place. I was afraid of being found, even though the curtains around my bed were spelled to be impenetrable; any unwanted visitor wouldn't be able to open them. His hands found their way under my robe, quickly unbuttoning my shirt and unzipping my pants. It was in that moment when I first had my stirring in which my mind could read his. It wasn't leglimency or any of that sort, but at the time I thought I was just hearing things.

/...alone...vulnerable/ were amongst his thoughts as well as others: /What am I doing with this boy?...He's too young...he's not even attractive.../

I knew that I was being used, but I couldn't help but desire his touch. I craved true intimacy knowing that I wasn't even considered remotely attractive by my peers, especially since Oliver was my mate. Comparisons cannot be even drawn between us. My ugliness seemed to magnify around him.

But that didn't matter when Lucius's hand crept over my naked form, cold fingers finding their way to my entrance. I panted, wanting more of his touch, but was repulsed by my submission to my father's worst enemy. He breached my passageway slowly, and my breath hitched. He was suprisingly gentle. Slowly, oh so slowly, his finger embedded itself despite my natural tightness. I couldn't fathom why he was doing this, I wasn't attractive or beautiful like him. But I still craved it even though I knew it was wrong, that it was against the order of society. Yet, I wanted it, even as he stretched me wide with his fingers, ignoring the pains he was causing me because he knew, he *knew* that I wanted it because no one else in their sane mind would even consider touching me.

He kissed my trembling lips again, and entered inside of me with unexpected gentleness. I cried out with tears forming in myeyes; he was too big for me. Yet he was determined to find fulfillment inside of my gangly body, despite that he was tearing me apart.

But I still wanted it. And he knew it.

I wrapped my arms around him, crying into his shoulder. He kept persisting until he was fully inside of me. He rocked back and forth gently, but it was clear that he wanted nothing but his own pleasure. He didn't harm me, but I wasn't his lover and never treated me as such. He ignored my cries and fucked me until he came.

After that, he still came back for more. I like to believe that he was intrigued by me. It wasn't until my sixth year that I began to fall in love with him. It took me until my seventh year to convice him that he loved me too.

Now, Lucius is still fucking me, with such savageness that I didn't know he contained. I was nothing more than a warm body to dominate. He left bruises on my hips, bit at my nipples until they bled small crimson rivers down my chest. His balls slapped against my rear from the force of his thrusts, bathing them red from him tearing my anus with his prick. His ejaculate seemed to burn my wounds.

I could feel the pain.

But no hatred.

I foolishly thought it would be over soon until he forced his penis into my mouth once again, except this time the fluid was thin, something I suspected to be his urine.

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