snakeling (snakeling) wrote in snakelingsrecs, @ 2008-08-17 02:22:00 |
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A Little Touch Of Harry In the Night, by Amanuensis
[Harry Potter]
Title: A Little Touch Of Harry In the Night
Author: amanuensis
Summary: A Potterverse take on Shakespeare's Henry V with an AU Harry who's not really as nice as we remember him. Bit of a bastard, actually. That's okay; I got to write more sex that way. Shakespeare purists will just freak.
Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter/Colin Creevey, Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy (plus a bit of Slytherin debauchery)
Rating: NC-17
Warning: AU, implied rape, dub-con
A deliciously dark and chilling Harry. While the setting is unmistakably the Wizarding World, the plot follows Henry V closely, without ever seeming forced. It does help that it's one of my favourite plays, and that the fic includes one of my favourite scenes from it (II.ii, for the record). You don't need to know the play to read the story, but it definitely makes it more interesting.
“What’s the gift?”
It was said so quietly that all of them turned to look at Harry.
Harry’s face was quite expressionless. All of them in the room were familiar with that look, and there was not a one of them who did not feel as though something cold had brushed the hairs on the back of his neck.
Though all of them thought it, none would ever voice it: it was still unnerving to see him without his glasses. It should have been merely different, or odd at worst. But instead, it was unnerving.
Sirius held the small chest that the owl had borne along with the replying parchment. It had a catch to prevent it from accidentally opening, but was unlocked. All of them could hear the little knocking thuds that came from within, patternless and tentative.
“Open it,” Harry said.
Sirius palmed his wand, raised it over the chest.
Harry waved his hand impatiently. “Just open it, Sirius.”
Sirius read Harry’s look, and then — not putting his wand down, just in case — thumbed the catch on the chest. The lid swung back smoothly, and the chest’s inhabitant came free, fluttering on its little silver wings, gold surface shimmering as it shot up to the ceiling and began to perform loop-de-loops, as if eager for the exercise after having been shut up for so long.
Harry’s eyes were on the Snitch. But all other eyes in the room were on Harry.
Who did not change expression, even now.