|snarryhols (snarryhols) wrote in snarry_holidays,|
@ 2008-11-25 10:39:00
|Entry tags:||fic, giftee: ravenna_c_tan, rated: pg|
Word Count: 2000
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Harry finds a potion. What does it do?
Author's Notes: I hope it fits the requests well enough. My muse sort of went loose on one situation. I like how it turned out though.
Harry sat behind the Headmaster’s desk after the final confrontation with Voldemort. He’d sent Ron and Hermione away, and had locked the inner door from other intruders. He knew that the people looking for him had good intentions, but he just wanted to be alone and process what had just happened. He had killed a man. Well…sort of--if one could have called Voldemort a man anymore. If there was one thing he was happy about, though, it was that he had done what he had been sent out to do. All the sacrifices made were worth it, in the end. Lives were lost--that was maybe not so trivial--now that the war had been won.
One life that had been lost grated on him the most. Severus Snape. He had worked his whole adult life in making sure the monster that had killed his love was defeated. But, on the eve of victory, his life was cut short and he never got to see the end of the conflict. Harry leaned his forehead against the desk with a sigh, grunting when a drawer suddenly came flying out, thumping his belly.
He sat back and looked in to the thin drawer cautiously, seeing only a small scroll sitting inside. He prodded the scroll with his wand, before shrugging and picking it up. There was a slight tingle of magic, but nothing malevolent. It was a familiar feeling magic that tugged at his heart. The headmaster had spelled this parchment.
He unrolled the scroll, his heart skipping at the familiar writing, driving home the point that he would never see the headmaster again, in a way the magic didn’t.
Well done, my boy! You have finally defeated Tom, and have made it out alive. In the darkest of hours, I have deeply regretted your having to be in the middle of it, but sadly, Tom gave me no choice. I can only tell you now how proud I am of you and how well you handled what was thrown at you time and time again. Only a truly good person could have emerged from such pressure a better person.
I know it seems wrong of me to ask anything more of you, but I must. If there is one person on the side of the light that has sacrificed more than you, it would be Severus Snape. He came to me when he had no hope; he was sentenced to Azkaban, and was willing to accept that fate. If you can find any compassion for him at all, please fulfil my request.
Inside this drawer, you will find a small potions phial. Should Severus still live, I would ask you to administer the potion underneath his tongue. He deserves it.
Harry crumpled the scroll in his fist barely noticing the tears that rolled down his cheeks; both at reading the headmaster’s words, and the fact that Severus had passed away. Movement in the portraits caught his eye, small rustling as if they were restless, and he looked up at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.
The headmaster looked down at him with an indulgent smile. “Hagrid just brought Severus in from the Shrieking Shack. He’s alive.”
Harry sat frozen for a moment, before scrambling in the drawer with his hand and coming up with a small cobalt bottle. He stashed it in a small pocked in his robe and raced from the room, brushing past Ginny, who was pacing at the top of the stairs.
“No time, Gin--Snape is alive!”
She put her hands on her hips, looking at him angrily. “So? Who cares?”
He looked at her, shocked, before brushing past her.
She grabbed his sleeve, looking at him desperately, “I need you, Harry!”
He shook her off and kept going, ignoring her cries behind him.
He sat by the bed of the pale man and watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. He was still waiting for Madam Pomfrey to let him know that Snape was out of the woods. He figured that his best chance to administer the potion would be now, while the man was unconscious. However, he didn’t want to cause more harm in the process. He didn’t even know what the potion would do, but was willing to obey the headmaster’s last request of him. What if Snape had asked for reassurance that he wouldn’t survive the war? What if Dumbledore was asking him to poison the Potions Master, and Harry didn’t even know it? Harry let out a sigh. Dumbledore knew Snape’s wishes well enough; he’d do what the Headmaster wanted.
The matron came out from her office and seemed surprised to see Harry still sitting there, thinking that he would have left as soon as he saw Severus.
“How is he?” Harry asked.
She leaned forward and fussed with the bandage on his neck. “He’ll live. I’m not sure how much damage was done to his vocal cords, though. We’ll have to wait until he heals a little more to know that.”
Harry nodded, but didn’t leave. The matron looked at him sharply at the uncharacteristic concern for the Potions Master before moving on to check on other patients. Harry stood up and looked at the slightly broken figure lying on the bed, looking fragile and lifeless.
Keeping one eye on Madame Pomfrey he retrieved the potion bottle from his pocket and pulled the stopper. Looking in he realized there were only a few drops in the bottle. With a shrug, he pried open Snape’s mouth as gently as he could, which wasn’t very gently at all, the muscles and bones of his jaw resisting the movement, and emptied the bottle under his tongue.
At first Harry thought the potion had failed, but slowly he watched the lean Potions Master shrink into a lanky teenager, black eyes snapping open and surveying the room with a scowl. Harry thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty, before the black eyes covered it up masterfully.
Harry gasped as he realized he was looking at his Half-Blood prince.
The dark eyes watched him warily as he lowered himself onto the chair next to the bed, his knees no longer able to support his weight. The shock made his hand shake. Hell, if this was the same Snape with a younger body Harry was about to be hexed within an inch of his life. If this was truly a de-aged Snape, then he was going to have to sprint him away quickly, before he was hexed within an inch of his life. Either way, this was not a good idea. He should have left the bottle alone.
He sprang into action, leaning over the bed to look in the teen’s eyes, “I’m going to need you to come with me, alright?”
“Why would I do that, Potter?” The boy spat, hatred burning in the black eyes.
Harry stood there shocked for a moment before realizing he would look like his dad, should Snape really be de-aged.
“Because things are not what they seem. Let’s go.”
“I wouldn’t trust you as far as I can throw you, Potter.”
Harry growled lowly, frustrated in a way that only Snape could make him. “Dumbledore sent me to help you.”
The dark eyes still looked suspicious but he sat up, which was an improvement to Harry. He grabbed the other boy’s wrist and pulled.
“Fuck, Potter! Don’t manhandle me!”
Harry made an annoyed hush gesture. “Quiet. Don’t call Pomfrey’s attention over here.” Harry was almost amused at the horrified look in the boy’s eyes, as he was sure the same look was in his eyes.
Harry was glad to see that the threat of Madam Pomfrey worked well, the boy sneaking after him into the matron’s office. He looked around the mantel for Floo powder, grumbling under his breath until a hand tapped his shoulder. He turned to see Severus, for this wasn’t Professor Snape anymore, standing there holding a flowerpot. Harry took in the sight of the gangly teen standing there, the gown that fit his adult self hanging off the slender frame. One shoulder was exposed in a tantalizing manner that made Harry’s heart speed up.
The expression on Severus’ face was a cross between amused and annoyed. “Are you supposed to be rescuing me? You’re not doing a very good job.”
Harry laughed despite himself. “Rescuing you? I don’t think so.”
Severus looked angry and Harry shook his head quickly. “You’re not someone who needs rescuing very often. You’re more likely to be rescuing me.”
At Severus’ confused look, Harry’s already pretty solid conclusion that Severus was completely de-aged was confirmed. Had he the memory’s of Harry’s school years, that remark would have been comprehensible to him. To teenage Severus, it was nothing more than ramblings of a hated enemy.
Harry shook his head. “We’re Flooing to Grimmauld place. I’m going after you.” Harry took a hand full of powder and motioned for Severus to do the same. Severus reluctantly took the powder and stepped into the fireplace.
“This isn’t a trap?”
Harry shook his head. “I told you, Dumbledore sent me.”
“Somehow that doesn’t reassure me, Potter.”
Harry chuckled, again amused despite the situation. “I wish you no harm. I’ll explain when we get there. Now, I hear Pomfrey coming, so could we hurry it up?”
Severus got that amusingly horrified look on his face again and quickly threw the powder down and called out the destination before disappearing from sight. Harry chuckled again. The loss of that threat was a shame, but he’d rather have Severus out of this place when he explained the situation to him. There’d be plenty of yelling, and he’d rather not anyone else know what was going on at the moment. Harry was sure he’d probably get in trouble, administering an unknown potion to an unconscious man.
If he could talk to Severus, make him accept the situation, then maybe Harry wouldn’t get in too much trouble. He stepped into the fireplace and threw the powder down, calling out his destination.
At the other end, Harry came tumbling out of the fireplace, sprawling out on the rug in an ungraceful heap. He heard Severus laughing at his clumsiness. Looking at the bright side, at least he knew that the other boy had made it there, and was still waiting around.
“Nice landing, Potter.”
Harry opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at Severus. “I am not James Potter.”
The amused expression on the other boy’s face was erased immediately. “Who are you then?”
Harry sat up and looked at the dark fireplace. “That…that is where things get complicated.” Harry turned and looked at Severus, who was standing in the middle of the room in his loose hospital gown, gauze wrapped around his neck, his face across between horrified and furious.
Harry shook his head. “I’m not here to hurt you in any way.”
“And I should just take your word on that, should I?” Severus spat.
Harry stood up and took the few steps to the other boy, putting one hand behind his head and pulling him into a hard kiss. Severus stood frozen for a moment, long enough for Harry to begin pulling back, before Severus arms wrapped around him, his lips softening to kiss back. Harry let out a noise of surprise before holding Severus close.
Severus pulled away, looking slightly dazed, but his voice came out strong and clear. “What was that?”
Harry shrugged. “Seemed like the thing to do.”
The dark eyes narrowed angrily. “That’s it?”
Harry shook his head and pressed his lips to the other boy’s, a soft groan coming from him as Severus melted against him, kissing back with a fervour that surprised Harry.
Who needed explanation? He could just lock Severus up in the house and use him as a sexual slave. Or Severus could use him… Mutual use – that sounded like a plan to Harry.