Love is a Black Dress
Title: Love is a Black Dress Author: atypicalsnowman Team: Snitch! Rating: PG Word Count ~1.2k Summary: Let's see who wears the pants! A/N: This silly piece of crack is for DJ, to whom I am most grateful. This was my first Games experience and I was so pleased by how accepted I was, how much fun was to be had, and how I feel I grew as a writer. Thank you so much for putting on the Fest of Fests and for allowing us to play with our most favorite characters.
Thanks to thesewarmstars and WhiteCotton for the beta.
Several months earlier
"It's back!" Harry said bouncing into the room, paying no attention to the roll of Severus' eyes from his armchair.
"What is back now, Potter?" he said returning his gaze to the Prophet and turning a page.
"The Snarry Games."
Severus lifted an eyebrow and put his paper down. "Oh?" He was silent for a moment as he fought to hide his enthusiasm. "Though I am loath to admit it, the quality of their writing is impeccable."
"And the sex is always so hot!" Harry exclaimed, going through the parchments in his hands.
A scoff and a rustle of newspaper was heard before Severus asked in a bored tone, "What exactly are we doing this year?"
"Oh, let's see," Harry said, flipping his pages. "There's 'alive and kicking.'"
"Naturally," Severus said with a huff.
"Historical/literary."
Severus nodded his head stoically, though his thoughts were running mad. "That could prove to be interesting," he said calmly.
Harry continued, "Time-travel." He looked up from his parchments and gave Severus a leer. "I do enjoy the stories where you're younger than me. I always get to top in those."
Severus smirked before giving Harry a swift kick in the shins.
"Ow!"
"Carry on, brat."
"Git," Harry said, rubbing his injured leg. "Mentor/Severitus."
They both stared down at the parchment in Harry's hands then looked up, their eyes focusing on each other's. A shudder ran through both of them and Harry made a pained noise.
"Moving on," he said.
"Yes," Severus agreed.
"Cross-dressing/genderbending."
Their eyes locked again, then both dropped, tracing each other's figures; the lines of their bodies and hands.
"You'd look wonderful in a skirt," they both said simultaneously and with an accompanying leer, which was quickly followed by, "What?"
"How the hell would I look good in a skirt?" Harry yelled. "Look at my legs!" He stood up from where he had been sitting and pulled down his trousers, revealing very firm, very masculine-looking thighs.
"Your legs aren't large," Severus protested.
"They're hairy!"
"Depilatory charms," Severus sniffed.
"Either way," Harry said in a huff. "I couldn't pass for a woman at all. Not like you."
Severus gave an almost comical bark of disbelief. "Me? In what way?"
"Well," Harry said with a wave of his hand. "Just look at you."
Severus looked down at himself: straight lines, thin frame, the extra bit of height really the only thing going for him. No, there was nothing there that even whispered 'female.'
"What exactly am I supposed to be looking at, Potter?"
Harry rolled his eyes and crossed their living room floor to kneel at Severus' feet. "Well, just look at the line of you and the way that you walk and your grace and your hair... I mean just your absolute beauty. Yeah, I could see you in a dress."
As Harry spoke, it was with a look of awe Severus had never seen before.
Not that it made the idea any less preposterous.
"Are you mad?" Severus cried. "The ability to walk into a room without falling down does not make one graceful." Severus looked at Harry's face, really looked at him, and said, "You on the other hand, have always been...pretty."
Harry looked scandalized.
"You are, in a sort of masculine way. And smaller than me." Severus patted Harry's head–who glared through his fringe–then stood up to pace the room. "And, as I have a feeling this will be a popular theme this year, we will have to decide which of us is going to suffer the writers' whimsy."
Harry sighed. "Alright. We going to flip for it?"
A sneer twisted Severus' face as he said, "Certainly not. A game of skill will decide."
Harry perked up at that. "Oh? Fancy a quick Quidditch game?"
With a snort and a flip of his hair that Harry thought belonged in one of the fics they were talking about, Severus said, "Hardly. Spell crafting, perhaps? Or should we see who can brew the best Draught of the Living Death?"
Harry winced. "Point."
"There must be something..." Harry became distracted while Severus tapped his lips with his finger. His lovely, thin lips...
"Chess," Severus said suddenly.
"Chess?" Harry repeated, only now recalling what they had been talking about in the first place.
Severus nodded with a devious smirk. "A game of chess will decide who wears the skirt, Potter."
Harry looked despondent. "Oh? Chess? Oh...um...okay then. I played a few times with Ron. I think I remember the rules."
Severus smirked as he foresaw his victory.
*
"Checkmate," Harry said, leaning back in his chair as he watched his rook cut down Severus' king.
"But...what..." Severus said, uncharacteristically flummoxed. "How is that possible?"
"Oh," Harry said pleasantly. "See, your king's been defeated–"
"Shut up, Potter! I mean, how is it possible that you beat me at this game? When was the last time a logical thought made a nest in that thick skull of yours?"
Harry scoffed, but ignored the jibe. "Do you know who my best friend is? Honestly, Severus, sometimes all we do is play chess. Now," Harry said, summoning a black, silky thing from somewhere in the other room. "Put this on."
Severus looked at the thing in his hands and considered burning it on principle.
"Go!" Harry commanded with a smirk, and Severus turned, knowing better than to welch on a bet.
*
"Come on, Severus!" Harry cried. "It can't be that bad."
A creak of the door and the sound of high heels clicking on the stone floor and then Severus Snape came walking out of their bedroom, steps smaller than Harry had ever seen them, arms around his chest.
Not that Harry noticed his lack of good posture.
"Oh," Harry breathed. "Wow. You look...wow."
Severus had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. Yes, the silk felt very good against his skin, but there wasn't much of it and it was so clingy. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his hair partly in his face as he took in Harry's awed expression, green eyes running over his body.
Suddenly, he remembered that dress or no dress, he was Severus Snape and that he would be humiliated in front of no man. He uncrossed his arms and held his head high, his shoulder-length hair tickling his shoulders as Harry let out a moan.
A sigh and a quirk of his eyebrow were his only reactions as Harry raced across the room to him. "Honestly, Potter, you can't possibly–Mmph!"
He was cut off as Harry attacked him with his lips, pushing himself on top of Severus and throwing him on their sofa.
*
Hot and sweaty, Harry's trousers and Severus' dress discarded somewhere in the corner, the two lovers sat in a comfortable silence.
"That was...interesting," Harry said, breaking the quiet.
"To say the least."
Harry looked over at him and said, "They always have the best ideas, don't they?"
Severus nodded.
"Can we do this again next year?" Harry said, his voice full of yearning.
Severus looked over and kissed his head. "We can hope."