purplefluffycat (purplefluffycat) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2008-01-09 16:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic: pg, holidays: snape's birthday |
Ficlet for Snape's Birthday: 'The Fireball', PG
Title: The Fireball
Author: PurpleFluffyCat
Rating: PG
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Words: About 600
Prompt: Youth is a disease from which we all recover - Dorothy Fulheim
Notes: Written for the lupin_snape Snape’s birthday challenge – 9th January 2008.
"Happy Birthday, Severus!"
Remus burst into the study bearing a broad smile and a medium-sized incendiary device. Severus looked up from his cauldron with a start and his hand automatically flashed to his wand as the blazing yellow fireball came nearer.
No defensive charm was necessary, however; upon closer inspection Severus could see that the object was nothing other than a chocolate cake groaning under the weight of forty-eight candles.
Severus fixed his mate with a mocking gaze. "Lupin, It is customary past the age of about twelve to use a factorial representation of the unfortunate victim's age when igniting confectionary. Or were you away on the day that times-tables were covered in Arithmancy?"
"Well yes, I know that, Severus," countered Remus, unabashed, "But after such a difficult time, I didn't want you to feel too old!"
Severus knotted his eyebrows at such a notion, then declared, "Lupin, I am old. And quite frankly I wouldn't have it any other way."
Remus seemed slightly crestfallen, and put the cake down on a wooden side-table. "Well, yes of course. I didn't mean for a moment that I'm not pleased that you... you know, survived... that we both did for that matter, and-"
"-Save yourself the maudlin soul-searching, Lupin. Your preferences regarding my continued survival to such an advanced age were not actually in doubt. I was merely expressing the fact that I have absolutely no desire to be a member of the country's youth, ghastly state that it is. Middle-age suits me."
Remus seemed to be content with that explanation and a flicker of amusement crossed his features. "That's fair enough. I don't think I'd have the energy for some of the hijinks of my past birthdays anymore. One time I got so drunk on butterbeer that I ended up singing, 'One-thousand-and-six Potion Bottles' from the top of the Astronomy tower!"
"Butterbeer?" asked Severus, raising a scornful eyebrow.
"Yes, well. I was only fourteen," came the defensive reply. "But there was this time in our twenties when Padfoot took me to a Muggle night-club where all the men were wearing sequins and make up, and we..." Remus trailed off then, a little sheepishly. "Ahem. Well, Anyway. How did you celebrate yours?"
"I don't think 'celebrate' is the correct word, actually. One year I filled an entire volume with abysmal teenage poetry in praise of a certain red-haired girl, but never had the courage to give it to her. Another time I spent the entire day convulsively vomiting because Lucius Malfoy insisted upon feeding me caviar - to which it transpired I am allergic. And those were the highlights. Need I go on?" Remus' silence provided all the answer he needed. "Youth is indeed a disease from which we all recover."
"Quite so Severus," Remus replied diplomatically. "But how about this cake, then? Would you like a piece?"
"That would be tolerable, I'm sure. But I suppose I'm going to have to acquiesce to blowing out the raging inferno to my left, first?"
Remus merely grinned in response and watched as Severus collected all of his lung-power and went in for the kill. A dark head nodded in satisfaction when the task was completed with one puff, but Severus couldn't help adding, "Perhaps I'll lend you my abacus on the 8th of January in future years."
Remus scooped his mate into a hug and planted a kiss on those haughty lips. "I hope we live long enough for a logarithmic scale to become necessary, actually."