nehalenia (nehalenia) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2008-08-31 23:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic: nc17, prompt: fantasy fest 08 |
Fantasy Fest Fic: Dark Creatures -- Chapter 2
Title: Dark Creatures -- Chapter 2
Author:nehalenia
Rating:NC17 overall/PG for this part
Pairing: Lupin/Snape, Sirius/Snape, Lupin/Snape/Sirius
Word Count: 600 (this chapter)
Challenge: Fantasy Fest 2008
Prompt: Snape has been cursed by Death Eaters and to avoid horrible pain, must be taken by a Dark Creature every day.
Warnings: AU (There will be more later. ^___^)
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of JK Rowling and are most definitely not mine. This is for entertainment purposes only and no profit is being sought.
Author's notes: Blessings on ships_harry for her awesome beta skillz! To my unknown promptee, I will keep posting chapters until this is done. Shouldn't be too terribly long. Let this stand as a promise that, yes, your prompt will actually (finally) get written. ;-) And WOOO Chaptered Fics! Why didn't I think of this before?
Chapter 1
It was like waking up underwater and having forgotten how to breathe. One moment there was nothing but the comforting pressure of the darkness enfolding him, and in the next there was light: a white gold glow above him, like the sun seen through water. The sun he had forgotten.
He didn’t move. He couldn’t have – wouldn’t have – but somehow he seemed to be drawing closer to that shimmering beacon. He felt the strange thrill of vibrations, both inside and out. He was moving on a current of sound, like the tolling of a great undersea bell, a sound that he felt more than heard.
Something began to twist inside him in the place where his human heart had been, and the sound, the light, the pressure became too much, carrying him too fast and too far away from darkness and sleep. The reverberations of the bell became voices, the light pooled and spread above him, blinding him as he rushed toward it. His remembered heart was pounding in time with the tolling voices, and his mouth opened and trying to gulp darkness like air just before he broke through the dizzying light.
He came down hard, tumbling, flopping like a fish in the bottom of the boat, gasping and dazzled by everything he saw. Someone was moving, a voice was shouting and suddenly strong, wiry arms wrapped around him, holding him as if they were the only things binding him to this strange new element.
“Breathe!” a voice pleaded as a fist pounded against his back. “Breathe, please breathe, you have to!” Almost by mistake, he did, opening his lungs and feeling air and life pour into him. “Breathe, Sirius! Please!”
Sirius. The air came out in a great rush, and memory poured into him in its place. He had a name. His name was Sirius, he was breathing, and he remembered. He grabbed the shoulders of the person embracing him and pushed back, tilting his head to see. Wild black hair. Glasses. Bright green eyes. James—no.
“Harry?” he asked, his voice rough and unsure because this was not the boy he had been fighting beside only moments before. “Harry?” Sirius repeated unsteadily, because the world that was coming back to him had started to tip.
“I’m here, Sirius!” Harry panted, his moist eyes roving up and down, as if trying to take in all of Sirius at once. “I’m right here. And you’re back. It’s you, and you’re alive and you’re really back! Oh God!” Harry pulled him once more into a hard embrace, and Sirius hugged him back, wonder-struck at the strength and muscle in those arms, at the stubble against his cheek. Harry had been a boy. Just a boy. Hadn’t it only been a moment ago?
He opened his eyes and gazed over Harry’s shoulder, wondering at the dim, stair-stepped room, the tall stone archway with its tattered drape, the ritual circle inscribed around it, the guttering candles, the scattered ash, the broken pieces of something silvery, an urn perhaps—no, a bell. His gaze came to rest on something—no, someone who almost blended into the shadows: a narrow, huddled figure all in black, long arms hugging long, bent legs, forehead pressed against his knees. Sirius felt a strange throb of recognition. He licked his lips.
“Snape?” he whispered.
The figure slowly raised his head, revealing a pinched white face half hidden by lank black hair. He stared at Sirius with eyes as dark and limitless as the sea behind the Veil, then closed them, looking pained, and let his head drop back down.
“Bloody hell,” he heard Snape mutter to himself. “It worked.”
Chapter 3