|snarrymod (snarrymod) wrote in snarry_games,|
@ 2006-05-24 16:51:00
CLOSING CERMONIES DRABBLES # 7, Emynn!
Original poster: snarrymod
44 Drabbles from another future Champion, emynn ! We are happy to have her aboard. Warnings and ratings within.
Mod note: *starts tubthumping* Very soon now....
Romance: Sleep Deprivation
Severus always sleeps on the left side of the bed. Harry can only sleep curled up on his left side. But Harry wants to sleep facing Severus, lips close enough to kiss, chests close enough to feel their hearts beat in cadence. It feels lovely. But he can’t sleep.
Tonight Severus mentions the circles under Harry’s eyes, and Harry reluctantly tells his secret. Then Severus pushes Harry to his favored side.
“Foolish boy,” he laughs as his arms wrap around Harry’s. Harry feels his lover’s breath tickle his hair, his pulse beating in his wrist.
Yes, this feels lovely too.
Romance: Always Hungry
Training for Quidditch had taken its toll on Harry. Now that he was retired, he indulged in all the pleasures he had once denied himself. Biscuits, cakes, pudding … delicious!
Harry looked up from the pie he had finished on his own to see Severus eyeing him incredulously. That night, Harry reluctantly put away his sweets. Even after ten years, he couldn’t calm his fears of Severus leaving once Harry became old and pudgy.
Severus rolled his eyes as Harry sadly watched his ice cream melt and held a spoonful to his lips. “Eat. A growing boy needs his sweets.”
Gryffindors are brave. Harry is a Gryffindor. Therefore, Harry is brave.
Which is why he stood, shaking and sweating, outside of Snape’s door. Because he was brave. Snape couldn’t do anything to him.
He gripped his wand tightly and banged on the door before he could change his mind.
“Snape! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of everybody. But it doesn’t change the fact that I love –”
The door flew open and Harry fell into waiting arms. He tried in vain to bring calm his heart rate as Snape kissed him.
Harry was a good Gryffindor.
“Severus? Can I ask you something?”
“I’m in love.”
Severus felt nauseous. This wasn’t a conversation he wished to have. “Oh?”
“Yes. He’s smart, passionate, and great to talk to. And rather attractive. He likes me, too, but I’m not sure it’s the same way.”
As if anybody could resist Harry. “Your question?”
Harry smiled. “Do I have your blessing to go after him?”
“Why would you need my blessing?”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes,” Severus hissed.
“Good. I wouldn’t want to offend you when I did this.”
And Harry was kissing him. Severus was not at all offended.
Romance: Things Left Unsaid
Harry knows that Severus watches his every move.
Harry knows that Severus checks the cupboard to make sure there is enough of Harry’s favorite jam to last the week.
Harry knows that sometimes, when he thinks nobody is looking, Severus smiles at him with an expression of absolute wonder.
Sometimes Harry wants to tell Severus that he knows his secret, that Severus is as much in love with Harry as Harry is with him.
But whenever he opens his mouth, Severus becomes stiff and turns away.
Harry doesn’t need sweeping declarations of love. Some things are just better left unsaid.
Harry was dying. He knew he had caught the mysterious illness from Severus, since they spent all their time together after becoming business partners. So Harry went to him first.
“I’m dizzy,” Harry complained. “I can’t breathe. My chest feels like it’s about to burst! I’m looking at you, but everything else is out of focus and the room is spinning!”
“It sounds like you’re in love,” Severus said slowly.
Harry paused. “That could be it. Do you have the same symptoms?”
“I’ve experienced some vertigo.”
“If we held onto each other, do you think it’d stop?”
It was midnight, and Harry was sulking. Here he was at the masquerade ball, the biggest party of the year, and he was sipping punch. Alone.
Paranoid git. Couldn’t even come to a party in case somebody suspected their romance. Harry didn’t care. But Severus was a private man.
Harry sighed. He wanted to leave, but he wasn’t going to give Severus that satisfaction.
He wore a mask, but Severus’s voice was instantly recognizable. Harry beamed. “Maybe.”
Severus grasped his hand. At one, they were still dancing. “Could you someday remove your mask?” Harry whispered.
“If you wish.”
Romance: Déjà vu
Severus had never held Harry in his arms before. He had never kissed him, never told him he was beautiful. He certainly had never heard Harry say those words back to him.
But somehow, as soon as Harry touched him and began to do all those wondrous things, Severus had the strangest feeling that he had experienced it all already. There was no awkwardness or unease in their embrace – they fit perfectly together in each and every way.
Severus supposed he might have dreamed of such a feeling.
But it was too good to have just been from a dream.
The sun was shining and the birds were singing and Severus Snape was absolutely terrified.
“Come on, Severus,” the Dark Lord crooned, swiveling his hips and making his grass skirt sway alarmingly. “Let loose and have a mai tai.”
Severus woke up in a cold sweat. When he had finally caught his breath, he looked over at the young man snoring softly next to him. Severus couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. He carefully wrapped his arms around his lover and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
Even his nightmares were brighter with Harry at his side.
Romance: Last Dance
“I’m sorry. I’m already in a relationship and will be for some time.”
“What? Why? Who?” Ginny asked tearfully.
Harry looked past her. Ginny thought he hadn’t heard, but then he grinned and replied, “I’m in a relationship. I am because I wanted to be with somebody who wanted to be with me as well. I’m in love with a man who loves and challenges me.”
“That’s … nice.” She smiled bravely. “Well, perhaps for old times’ sake?”
Snape looked exceptionally smug, Ginny noticed as she and Harry waltzed. But she wasn’t going to let that interrupt their last dance.
Romance: A Test of Wills
Severus was not about to admit he loved Harry. Weak, gullible fools made saccharine declarations of love, and Severus was none of those things.
Harry was not about to admit he loved Severus. He only had so much patience for the man’s stubbornness, and it was high time Severus took some initiative in their relationship. Once Severus said the three little words, Harry would graciously return them. But until then…nothing.
So the two men spent many months, steadily refusing to admit their true feelings. Until, finally, after an intense lovemaking session that left them both breathless, one let it slip…
Prince Severus thought love was a ridiculous activity, but he knew there may be some fool with a romantic notion to make him feel. So he built himself a strongly-protected fortress.
Prince Harry was loved by everybody, but he was lonely and bored. So he decided to rescue Prince Severus.
It was a dangerous quest. Severus’s sarcasm sliced his skin and his bitterness burned him. Whenever Harry thought he was victorious, the walls would shift and he was as lost as ever.
But one day, Severus’s labyrinth vanished.
Severus sighed but returned Harry’s kiss.
And they lived happily ever after.
Severus Snape was not a superstitious man. He had no use for lucky charms to make his day a little easier. Superstitions were something fools relied on to give themselves false confidence.
That’s why he growled whenever Harry called him a “superstitious old sod.” Just because he couldn’t leave the house without the medallion Harry had given him for his birthday in his left pocket. Just because he had to kiss Harry before entering his laboratory. Just because he would only write with the quill they used to sign their marriage certificate. They weren’t superstitions, just … reminders.
Romance: Posthumous Request
Severus looked up to see the ghost of Albus Dumbledore gazing at him. “Yes?”
“I feel terrible for getting you into this mess with my death.”
“Think nothing of it. Everything turned out well.”
“I manipulated you horribly and was a despicable friend. You already were so bitter. I wouldn’t be surprised if my actions destroyed you forever. Please, promise me you will never lose your faith in love.”
Severus rather enjoyed Dumbledore’s look of astonishment as a naked and wet Harry Potter emerged from the shower and kissed Severus’s cheek.
“Oh, very well,” Severus smirked. “If you insist.”
Severus’s eyes were watery, but he wasn’t depressed; he was livid.
“You know I’m allergic to cats! I won’t be miserable in my own home because of that ball of fluff!”
Harry dejectedly packed up the cat. Harry returned with downcast eyes, but he still kissed Severus’s cheek.
Resigned, Severus spent weeks brewing potions for his allergies. Then he brought the cat back from Granger’s. He was entirely annoyed at his weakness; to think he’d have to drink those vile potions until that feline deigned to die.
He supposed that was the type of thing one did when in love.
Romance: Seven Year Itch
“I’ve been thinking…”
“Merlin help us.”
“We’ve been together a while now.”
“Have you ever had the urge to … be with somebody else?”
“Harry! Are you … do you want to be with somebody else?”
“No! I was wondering if you did.”
“Are you sure?”
“Harry, after seven years chasing after you, keeping you out of trouble, and trying to match your stamina in the bedroom, I simply don’t have energy to be with anybody else.”
“I love you.”
“We’re rather boring.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Romance: Proving His Independence
Harry fumed. How dare Severus imply he couldn’t live on his own? He had done perfectly fine before they were a couple. He certainly knew how to boil a pot of water and how to clean the house. He would show HIM, that egotistical prick…
Four hours later, the kitchen was covered in tomato sauce and blood. Harry howled as Severus tended to his wounded finger.
“I’m perfectly willing to try to salvage the pasta –”
“Shut it, Snape, or you’re sleeping on the couch.”
Severus smirked and kissed him. Harry sighed. Perhaps proving his independence could wait for tomorrow.
“You know,” Harry said, looking up from his album. “In some cultures, people worship their ancestors.”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “If you expect me to bow to a statue of James Potter, you are in for quite a long wait.”
“I’d never expect that,” Harry snorted. “But a little respect might be nice.”
“James Potter,” Severus began. “Was an insufferable, arrogant fool.”
“He was also my father. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here to do this.” He kissed Severus on the lips. “Or this.” On his neck. “Or this.” Lower...
Severus gulped. “I’ll begin the shrine tomorrow.”
Romance: Pensieve Memories
Harry emerged from the Pensieve sweating. He shakily lowered himself onto the bed.
“You were telling the truth.”
“Of course,” Severus sniffed.
“I never believed …”
“Well, you’ve seen the evidence yourself. Now do you believe me?”
“I suppose so ... poor Dumbledore.”
“I did what was necessary. He had it coming.”
“I can’t believe he saw us!”
“More likely he was looking for us. Kinky sod. Besides, the damage wasn’t permanent.”
Harry laughed. “He probably enjoyed the pink hair. Do you think …”
“Harry,” Severus interrupted. “Talk about dead old men, or make more dirty memories?”
Harry leaned over.
Harry wrote awful letters. They lacked any sort of coherency, as though he wrote one paragraph, went to bed, and woke up to write another. They were filled with trivial nonsense, such as what he ate for dinner the night before and how he nicked his face shaving. They always ended on an utterly maudlin, lovelorn note that made Severus cringe.
And yet he reads each letter word for word three times, squinting over the indecipherable handwriting, and then carefully pastes them into his journal to read again when the nights are cold.
It feels good to be cared for.
Severus seethed silently. How dare he stand so close to Harry? How dare he embrace him like they were best friends? How dare he look into those eyes – he had no right!
But Severus couldn’t do anything. He and Harry had to be gentlemen at the function, or their benefactors would be less than generous. And a gentleman didn’t hex guests, even if they deserved it. A gentleman certainly didn’t throw his handsome lover across a table and kiss him until the entire world knew who he belonged to.
Weasley whispered in Harry’s ear.
Scruples be damned. Harry was his.
Romance: Dollhouse (Warning: implied MPreg)
Harry eyed Severus warily as their daughter sobbed. “Isn’t it the right dollhouse?”
Of course it was. They’d spent months tracking down the dollhouse Lyra had insisted she needed and hours the night before putting it together. Girls’ toys were bloody complicated!
Lyra sniffled. “There’s only one daddy!”
Since Severus was busy snickering, Harry took out his wand. Seconds later, Mrs. Dollwitch’s dainty face was replaced with a glowering one. With another flick, the robes and hair were black.
Severus glared. “Why was I made out of the female doll?”
Harry rolled his eyes. It was difficult raising two children.
Angst: Sleep Deprivation (Warning: Character Death)
Harry had never been a heavy sleeper. He would toss and turn all night and then complain in the morning about not getting any rest. In the first few months of their relationship, Severus was concerned and tried to force Harry to take a potion. When it became clear potions didn’t help, they went back to their normal ways. In time, Severus simply became used to Harry’s constant movement and learned that when Harry slept soundly at night, it usually foretold an illness.
That illness took Harry away last month.
Harry now had eternal slumber, but Severus was wide awake.
Angst: Always Hungry
There were no Dementors, but Azkaban’s prisoners still went insane. One human to talk to a year wasn’t enough to sustain any man.
Severus was no different. He only thought about the kiss he and Harry shared. After he’d been sentenced for killing Dumbledore, Harry became frustrated and reached for him behind the bars...
What Severus had been dreaming of for years became the cruelest punishment imaginable. His one taste of Harry awakened a dormant desire. Each day he waited for Harry. Each night he went to sleep emptier than he had wakened.
Severus hated Harry. But he still waited.
The word repeated through Severus’s constantly. Potter found him cowardly. Severus had killed Dumbledore to secure his role as a Death Eater, knowing it would force him to go on the run. Severus spied on the Death Eaters and thwarted their plans in whatever ways he could. Severus lied to the Dark Lord daily.
But that type of courage was lost on Potter. Potter wanted overt displays of bravery to prove his devotion. Didn’t he understand the need for subtlety in wartime?
But Severus knew soon Potter would recognize his bravery. For tonight, Severus would die for Harry Potter.
“I’ll come back,” Harry promised.
“I refuse to hold you to anything,” said Severus quietly.
Harry sat on their bed and stared at his ticket. The States seemed so far away. “I don’t have to go. I could get a job here easily. Just say the word.”
Severus shook his head. “You need this time, Harry. Get away from it all, do what you wish. Do not answer to anybody, not even me. Then, if you still desire, return.”
Harry nodded and picked up his bags. With tears stinging his eyes, he wished that Severus wouldn’t be so damn understanding.
Angst: Things Left Unsaid
Severus watched his breath fog the inn’s window. Harry was inside. He’d grown up in the past few months. Strong cheekbones and broad shoulders…
He’d been waiting for Harry’s last day at Hogwarts. Severus planned on throwing him against a wall and kissing him until he was breathless. He still wanted to, but then he’d tell Harry the truth about that night, how he’d protected him, how much he loved him. Perhaps…
The door opened. Harry saw Severus, covered in rags and grime, and tossed him a coin.
“Have some dinner. It’s cold tonight.”
The words caught in Severus’s throat.
Harry never got out of bed anymore. Whenever he stood, he felt as though the world were zooming past him and trying to shove him over. The mirror became a tombstone, the furniture menacing trees, the shadows the skulking Death Eaters. Then the room would spiral, and Harry couldn’t keep track of where he was or who was dangerous. It was all too much. He’d cry out and fall back to the bed.
The bed was safety. The bed was where Severus was. The bed was where Harry could smell Severus’s scent and know that he wouldn’t let him fall.
Harry knows he is dying. He feels it with every ache in his body. But he doesn’t want Severus to know, because then Severus would focus only on Harry’s dying and try to find a cure. Harry just wants to rest in Severus’s arms, so he perfects his glamours.
Severus knows Harry is dying. He sees it every time he looks at Harry’s now dead but still hauntingly beautiful eyes. But he doesn’t tell Harry he knows, because Harry is a proud man. He wants to enjoy whatever time he has left with him.
So they continue with their masquerade.
Angst: Déjà vu
Harry and Severus had come a long way. They went from hatred to hostility to something like love. They spent long, quiet nights together. They had thoughtful conversations. Harry loved being in love and loved being Severus’s equal.
But no matter how happy they were together, Severus’s tongue was as abrasive as ever. When they argued, like they did tonight, Severus showed no mercy to his lover. He cut to the core and left Harry trembling with both anger and fear.
Strange, Harry thought as he stood shakily, that Severus could still make him feel like a nasty little boy.
Ever since Severus kissed him after that famous argument, Harry frequently found himself surprised by his lover. But nothing compared to waking up at midnight to see tears streaming down Severus’s cheeks.
The first time, Severus flinched when Harry tried to take his hand.
The second time, he allowed Harry to brush the tears away.
Now he leans into the caress as Harry kisses them.
Tonight’s tears taste familiar. Sharp, bitter, with a touch of sweetness. A frequent memory.
“Not a coward,” Harry whispers. “Never a coward.”
Severus clutches Harry’s hand, and Harry prays that someday the tears will stop.
Angst: Last Dance (Warning: Song Drabble, Character Death)
There may be trouble ahead.
Severus and Harry had a difficult relationship. Their arguments constantly ended with the slamming of the front door. There were screams and tears. Sometimes they wondered why they were together.
But while there’s music and moonlight and love and romance
Then there were those peaceful moments. Soft jazz played as they stood so closely it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. They swayed gently, completely lost in each other.
Those would be the moments he’d miss most, Severus decided as he closed his eyes.
Let’s face the music and dance.
Angst: A Test of Wills
“You’re not going.”
Severus tugged on his boots. “I have no choice.”
“They’ll kill you,” Harry said. “You know Malfoy ran off to his father after you tried to convince him to trade sides.”
“Most probably,” Severus agreed.
“Then why are you going? Do you want to die?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Severus snapped as he pulled on his robes. “I’m going in hopes of assuaging the Dark Lord’s suspicions. If I don’t, he will know I’m a spy.”
“He’ll kill you.”
“Don’t go,” Harry whispered, his voice cracking. “Stay. We can hide. Please.”
Severus slipped on his mask.
Every morning, Harry told himself he’d find Severus that day. He’d be standing in a tiny bookstore, reading a potions text written in some obscure language. Or he’d be sitting in a café, eating one of those scones he loved so much. Or perhaps just sipping whiskey in a tavern.
Harry searched every bookstore, café, and tavern. Every dark alley, every dusty nook, every filthy alcove. The need to find Severus burned within him. He knew he’d feel the constant ache until Severus was back in his arms.
Every night, Harry wondered if Severus just didn’t want to be found.
Angst: Superstition (Warning: Character Death)
Some people looked better dead than alive. Harry wasn’t one of them. Even alive, he’d been too skinny and gawky. His only beautiful feature was his eyes -- haunting, stunning, emotion-filled eyes that had made Severus fall in love with him.
Now with them closed, Harry wasn’t … Harry.
Severus remembered his mother closing Tobias’s eyes, whispering that if a dead man’s eyes were left open, he’d find someone to take with him.
Severus bit his lip as he stroked Harry’s face. In a minute, the coffin would be closed and Harry would be gone.
Severus gently raised Harry’s eyelids.
Angst: Posthumous Request (Warning: Character Death)
Harry lifted his head and tried to focus on his visitor. When he saw who it was, he turned away.
“Leave me alone.”
“You promised!” Harry screamed. “You swore you’d never leave! You said it’d be forever. You promised!”
“I know,” Severus whispered. “It hurts me as much as it does you.”
“You’re dead,” Harry snorted. “You’re dead.” An accusation.
“Please, forgive me. Please … I can’t go on unless …”
Harry gazed steadily at Severus, the man he loved more than life itself and whom he was now condemning to a half-life as a ghost. “I can’t.”
Harry tossed Hermione’s letter aside. She was studying, as always. Ron had received a promotion; they were going to take a holiday soon.
Harry had quit his job after Severus had fallen ill. Now Severus was dying, and Harry was terrified. He’d given his life to Severus. He’d had lost contact with most of his friends and stopped flying, preferring to be on ground with Severus. Harry loved Severus and spent all his time with him. It wasn’t a sacrifice – he did it willingly.
But once Severus left, he’d have nothing to show for it.
Harry didn’t think he minded…
Angst: Seven Year Itch
“Why not,” Harry whined, kissing Snape’s neck. “You want me. I can feel it.”
“Perhaps,” Snape admitted hoarsely. “But you’re married.”
Harry continued his kisses. “Don’t love her. Don’t think she loves me. So, let’s -”
“No,” Snape repeated, shoving Harry away. “It’s normal for passion to lull after a few years. Rest assured, you’ll soon be shagging like rabbits. In the meantime, I won’t be an outlet for your sexual urges.”
“It’s not like that! I love you!”
Snape rolled his eyes. “Prove it.”
That night, Harry sneaked into his bedroom and held his wand to Ginny’s throat.
Angst: Proving His Independence
The day he turned sixteen, Severus become a loyal subject of Lord Voldemort.
Five years later, he was begging Dumbledore to let him help the Order.
Now, over twenty years later, the most powerful wizard since Merlin was asking Severus to bind with him.
It was a tempting offer. Harry was an attractive man who certainly had his charm. They would make quite a pair.
But Severus had spent his entire life serving others more powerful than he. So, with a heavy heart, he rejected Harry’s offer.
Severus watched as Harry, shoulders slumped, walked away. Sometimes, independence equated to denial.
For years, Harry would glow with pride whenever somebody told him he was just like his father. He loved his father and knew that his father had loved him. The thought of being just like him filled him with warmth.
Now Harry is in love with Severus, whom his father tormented.
Sometimes when Severus first wakes up, he looks over at Harry, and his sleepy eyes become absolutely terrified. He shrinks into himself and seems to wait to be struck. When he realizes it’s Harry in his bed, he bristles and stiffly goes about his morning.
Harry hates James Potter.
Angst: Pensieve Memories
When the nights get cold, Severus dives into his memories. He watches Harry’s eyes light up at Christmas when he opens his presents. He lives through their wedding day, sighing as he and Harry kiss. He contemplatively views their passionate nights.
When he emerges from the Pensieve, he shivers from the cold. There’s no warmth here – he and Harry are both old, and they don’t have much time left. So he returns to his Pensieve and basks in the heat of yesterdays.
“We’re losing him,” he hears the healers tell Harry.
Severus feels guilty. But it’s just so cold here.
When Harry took his job in Egypt, he promised Severus he’d write every day. Severus had been impressed that for months, Harry actually kept his promise. Each letter was filled with details about his exploits and the exciting new things he was seeing.
After six months, Harry wrote twice a week. Severus thought nothing of it; Harry was undeniably busy.
After a year, Harry wrote once a fortnight. Severus didn’t press for details. He didn’t need Harry to keep him amused. He trusted Harry.
Then it was only a Christmas card.
Severus wondered what his boy was doing in Egypt.
Harry hugged Hermione and tried not to vomit. He hated her soft breasts, hated smiling. He never felt as alone as when they were together.
He wanted Severus, who was sitting just across the room. Severus wanted Harry; he’d said as much after they’d stumbled into each other last month. Their heated kiss had been cut short when Severus had pulled away abruptly.
“They’d crucify you,” he’d whispered.
Harry still felt the burn of his gaze. But Severus stayed seated, and Harry kissed Hermione, and they went on living the lives of upstanding wizards.
The Boy Who Lived wasn’t queer.
“I can’t do this.”
Severus tried not to let his jaw drop as Harry began to pack his bags.
“You shower me with presents. You tell me you love me. But I feel like you don’t know me. You don’t love me, Harry Potter, you love the man who sleeps in your bed. Your lover. Am I any different from some man off the street? I’m just a toy to you, a doll to admire. And I can’t do it anymore. This house – it’s stifling.”
Severus sat stunned long after the door slammed. He’d only wanted to make Harry happy.
Thank you, emynn