tetsubinatu (tetsubinatu) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2009-01-08 00:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic: pg, holidays: snape's birthday |
Gift-Wrapped - a birthday present for our Byronic Hero
Title: Gift-Wrapped
Rating: PG
Word-count - about 750
Author notes - prompt: wrapping paper
When the owl swooped in his window on January the 9th Severus didn't even look for a card: Lupin's giftwrapping technique was unmistakeable. How many presents had he seen wrapped just like this over the past few decades?
The first one he remembered noticing was for Lily, on her fourteenth birthday. The paper had been a riot of flowers, a tasteful riff on the mediaeval illustrations of Hufflepuff's 'Compendium of Useful Herbs', animated to sway gently in an imaginary breeze. The bow was simple, compared to the heights Lupin would later reach: an elegant origami lily. Lily had spent ages admiring it, and the lily bow sat on her dresser for months before being accidentally squashed by a heavy potions book when they were studying for their OWLs.
Over the years Dumbledore, too, had always paused to admire the wrapping for a moment before opening presents from Lupin, giving Severus just that instant of time to realise the insufficiency of his own wrapping, usually done at the store by a sullen assistant. (They were always sullen after serving Severus.) Somehow it never mattered that Severus' actual presents were better than the meagre offerings that Lupin could afford - it was the wrapping that lingered in people's minds.
Potter started getting them after his third year. Of course it was rare that Severus was at a birthday celebration for the wretched boy, but there was Christmas, and naturally his wedding to the Weasley chit. The werewolf had outdone himself for that one - the bow sparkled with fireworks which formed a whirling tornado of rose petals when the parcel was unwrapped, leaving the happy couple picking petals out of their hair and giggling like the carefree children that they had never been.
The year that Lupin taught at the school every staff birthday had been graced with such a display - even Severus'. The present itself was an unimaginative bottle of mid-grade firewhisky - a better grade than Lupin had on his own sideboard, pricked Severus' conscience sharply - but the wrapping was green and silver, a subtle slithering design of serpents against a night sky, and the bow was a poem of forest-green sparks and tiny silver stars. It cost Severus a pang to let it slip discarded to the floor without overt attention as he thanked Lupin with cool courtesy for his gift. Later when the castle house-elves delivered the pile of obligatory presents from his fellow staff-members to his room he found that the paper had been carefully saved, folded neatly. He threw it into the bin, where it glimmered reproachfully at him until his bin was cleared. The bow somehow fell into his desk drawer, where it continued to sparkle until the dog days of the following autumn left it limp and lifeless. It was probably still around somewhere, tossed with the rest of the contents of his study into a box when he finally escaped Hogwarts for a private life.
He hadn't seen Lupin since that time. Yet now, unexpected as a word of praise, came this gift in the claws of an anonymous post-owl. Severus stared at it blankly, chewing his bacon thoughtfully. He prodded it, trying to imagine what Lupin meant by it. Finally he even opened the card, which said, unimaginatively "Happy Birthday Severus, from Remus".
The paper reminded him of Lily's, all those years ago, only instead of flowers the decoration showed potions ingredients - but only the pretty ones, Severus noticed. He couldn't assemble them into any reasonable potion, so he supposed that they were chosen purely on aesthetic grounds. The grass-snake ribbon didn't explode, although it did curl up and hiss at him in a fairly friendly manner. He patted it absent-mindedly, which seemed to be its cue to slither off the parcel and investigate the sugar bowl. Interesting spell-work, really. Dumbledore would have liked it.
Severus took a mouthful of egg before prodding the parcel again. He could almost hear Lupin saying in that annoying drawl of his, "Just open it, Severus. It won't bite you." Leaving it, he savoured his eggs, ignoring his inner Lupin. When the eggs were gone, however, he returned to the parcel, sliding the paper free.
Two tickets to a local production of 'The Tempest"! How thoughtful. How annoyingly Lupin to remember his favourite Shakespeare play. Severus placed them carefully on the mantle. It would only be polite to ask Lupin to attend with him. He sniffed. He could take a hint as well as the next man, he hoped.
Was Lupin a top or a bottom, he wondered.