Marauder crack

An imperial observer essay

How is that possible?

Severus asks himself over and over again and doesn't come up with the answer. It cannot be that nobody has noticed, but everything indicates that it is so. It may be all the dirty blood that infects the school to blame. Perhaps Dumbledore's absurd admission policy has ended up spoiling the level, not only academic but intellectual, of the school. Because otherwise, he cannot understand that those who are supposed to be the Most extraordinary wizards of the future, may not be able to see the filth, the pitiful spectacle, the shameless exposition of their shameful feelings. Of course they, Merlin is a witness, do no effort to hide it.

Beasts. They just need to cover themselves like the animals on the desks.

If no one stops them, it is surely what they will end up shagging in a desk, and perhaps, even then, people will not even realise it. They will pass their tests even if they are fornicating right there and they will continue to think that Lupin is a helpless model student and Black continues to chase skirts, carried away by debauchery. Nobody seems to care that the first is a dangerous beast and that the second has long since deviated –in no better words to say it- the unpleasant and exaggerated sexual impulses from him to men in order to be able to degrade himself a little more.

They are a couple of beasts and nobody notices.

It is so obvious! Black and Lupin, instead of being ashamed as they should, are constantly announcing it, with all the impudence they can.

He sees them in Potions class. Before the teacher arrives.

Severus prepares the scrolls for him and examines the cauldron so that everything is ready when it's time for daily exercise. The thickness of the pot, the milimeter care of the elements. Everything affects the end result of the potion and it is necessary, it is vital, that every last detail is under control. Laziness is for the weak and perfection is the only thing that separates him from them. Severus aspires to it. He surrenders to the possibilities and the power he has in his working table. But even his perfect concentration suffers serious ups and downs when Black strides into class - as if it were his -, sits at a desk from which he can clearly distinguish the malevolent expression on his face and waits for the other to arrive with his boots on his chair, taking up as much space as he can. When the werewolf arrives, Black stares and greets him, releasing a long sigh.

- Hello, Moony.

The absurd nickname is almost the worst of all. Worse even than the tone, his voice raw, the filthy lust he gives off. Calling him "Moony", what an outrageous occurrence. As if his lycanthropy were funny, worthy of a joke. Black licks the corner of his mouth and leaves his mouth slightly ajar to expose his dirty tongue, how he is not ashamed. Something, a powerful emotion stirs in Severus and stuns him for a short time until he manages to control it, locking it deep within himself and forget about it.

- Are you taking the place for someone special or can I sit down?

Lupin, -that monster-, knows perfectly who he is saving it for and the question is only part of the constant mating ritual that nobody, nobody! realizes about.

- Can you repeat the question, Lupin?

"Oh my God".

- What if you are occupying the place for someone special ... - Yes - Black interrupts - ... or if I can sit down.

And again, he nods.

- Yes.

"What a pitiful sight.'' Severus's gut churns as Black removes his boots from the seat with studied arrogance, deliberately slowly. Lupin sits down and the way they look at him would be enough - like if they were biting each other with their gaze - for Severus to throw them out of class if he were a teacher. They are pornography. The class is more attentive to themselves than to the cauldron, stealing glances, whispering who knows what obscenities. Warming up in front of the teacher and everyone.

But Severus is the only one who sees it. That vermin Potter who struts incessantly and announces the detestable presence of him speaking aloud, behaves with his usual stupidity. It is evident that he does not notice anything, because he is retarded and that he still thinks that his two best friends are just friends. 

 Asking Pettigrew to realise it would be overly relying on the possibilities of his limited intelligence. He wouldn't even know that he was raining even if he was getting soaked. Unless Potter pointed it out to him, in which case he would run off to get his hero an umbrella. Disgusting bunch of parasites. He often thinks that Pettigrew is the worst, always sheltering under the tree that provides the most shade.

-Hey, Prongs- says Black, drawing the attention of the other useless one with that stupid nickname, "how much is left for your date with Lily?"

- Six days and six hours until Saturday! - bellows Potter. - And the rest is history!

Unbearable group of insubstantial.

What happens that the facts are invisible to everyone except Severus. Nobody seems sick like him, the way they look at each other, and listen to each other, and consult with their eyes and desperately need each other, as if they were no longer two different ingredients, but a single potion boiling in the cauldron. They are weak, inferior, deficient, sickly and no one is going to limit their relationship, no one will prevent Severus from having to continue enduring it, because nobody sees.

So someone will have to make them understand. Someone would have to remedy it.

And he is the only one that that can.