|snarrymod (snarrymod) wrote in snarry_games,|
@ 2006-05-10 21:18:00
|Entry tags:||posthumous request, submission, team romance|
TEAM ROMANCE ENTRY - POSTHUMOUS REQUEST
Original poster: snarrymod
Title: Going Postal
Author: Beth H (aka, bethbethbeth)
Length: 9139 words
Prompt: Posthumous Request
Disclaimer: They belong to each other (...and to J.K. Rowling)
A/N: The ultimate in Yenta!Fic. :) "Many thanks to the whole gang in Team Romance for their support, and especially the_con_cept, ziasudra_fic and meri_oddities for their sharp-eyed beta comments. Any remaining difficulties with the story should be set firmly on my own doorstep."
Summary: Years after his death, Albus Dumbledore still has the uncanny ability to pester people, as Severus and Harry will soon discover.
At first, Severus Snape thought the source of the annoying buzzing in his ears was due to yet another infestation of sciarid flies, which no amount of pest control remedies - Muggle or Wizarding - could completely eradicate from the old house at Spinner's End. However, Severus had recently stopped using peat (a favorite breeding ground for the flies) and a quick investigation upstairs showed that there was no sign whatsoever of sciarid fly larvae in the makeshift greenhouse Severus had created in the small room which once had been his childhood bedroom.
He walked back down the narrow staircase and - hearing nothing but the creak of wood beneath the worn and faded carpet - decided that perhaps his concern had been misplaced. However, the moment he settled back down on the couch to read his book, the buzzing started up again, louder than it had been before.
Severus attempted to carry on with his reading and merely waved his free hand back and forth beside his head to shoo the flying menaces away, but his efforts were futile. The winged irritants refused to leave, forcing Severus to put the book down and draw his wand from the pocket of his robe.
If there had been a competition in the Wizarding World for Expertise in the Art of Fly Zapping during the seventies, Severus Snape would have been given a Lifetime Achievement Award by the time he reached the age of seventeen. However, either Severus had lost his boyhood fly-zapping abilities at some time in the past two decades - or these flying things were some bizarre mutant strain which could Apparate at will, because no matter how much care he took, he was not able to hit a single one of his flying targets, at least not if the ceaseless buzzing chorus was anything to go by.
After all other options had failed (including trying to catch them by repeatedly casting the summoning spell until he'd grown hoarse with the effort, and then actually resorting to chasing the too-speedy blighters around the room for almost an hour), Severus finally collapsed tiredly on the lumpy sofa, muttering to himself that he'd "burn the damned house down, if that's what it takes."
Ten seconds later, one of Beelzebub's spawn alighted on the back of his hand. This first one was followed by a second - and they were joined by a third and then a fourth and a fifth and more and more, until the back of Severus's hand was covered with tiny...pieces of parchment.
Severus brought his hand up close to his eyes and stared. Pieces of parchment. Fly-sized - no, bee-sized pieces of parchment, each one folded up to resemble a letter and sealed with a tiny drop of wax upon which was impressed something too minuscule to be read unaided. The curse of aging, Severus thought to himself with annoyance as he cast a temporary magnification spell on his eyes. He looked again at one of the tiny notes and now could see clearly that the wax seal held an all-too-familiar set of initials: APWBD
Severus would recognize that seal anywhere, but how could a message (no, a veritable swarm of messages) marked with Albus's personal seal be arriving now, five years after the man's death? There was only one way to find out: he would have to read them, of course, but...perhaps a shot (or two) of Ogden's Old Firewhisky wouldn't go amiss first, just to prepare him for what he was about to see.
A third of the bottle later, Severus finally felt ready to open the first of the still-buzzing missives and see what was inside.
"My dear Severus" the note began - and that alone was sufficient reasonfor Severus to reach for the bottle and pour himself another drink.
My Dear Severus - By the time you read this note, I will most certainly be dead..."
Severus set his tumbler down on the small polished walnut table and pushed it to the side; suddenly, drinking directly from the bottle seemed incredibly appealing. However, all good things come to an end, and when the last drop of Firewhisky had vanished from the bottle, Severus could put off reading the note no longer.
My Dear Severus
By the time you read this note, I will most certainly be dead.
Try to remember, my dear, that you are not the only one who has been affected so deeply by recent events. Harry Potter will also be feeling alone, and for similar reasons. Perhaps the two of you have discovered this for yourselves, but let me assure you that you and Harry have far more in common than you might ever have imagined. Speak to him, Severus. Share your....
By the time you read this note, I will most certainly be dead, for I could not bear to go another day without you! Oh, my dear Harry...if only we had been able to put our foolish animosity aside and been able to spend time together, we might have been able to someday become friends or - dare I say it? - something more? Farewell, my dearest Harry...forever!