Secret Snarry Swap: Christmas Whiskers Title: Christmas Whiskers Author:stormdetachment Prompted by:suitesamba Rating: R Word count: 1,790 words Content/Warning(s): None Summary/Prompt: #2 - Severus brings home a kitten at the beginning of the Christmas holiday, when Harry is busy trying to make their first Christmas perfect. Written for the Secret Snarry Swap 2013. A/N: Merry Christmas to you all! :)
Christmas Whiskers
December 12, 2003
Severus stormed into the house and immediately closed the door to prevent the winter rain coming in. He unfolded his thrashing green scarf and revealed a petite, breathing fur ball.
Harry came closer to examine it, rubbing his own neck before poking the thing with a finger. “Where did you find this?”
“It was under the trash bin, curled up in a muddy pouch. Was meowing and whining all night – you’d surely have heard it if you hadn’t fallen into a sleeping coma.”
Harry yawned. “Hm. I see.” Then he eyed the creature, troubled. “What is it, though?” The little thing had four legs, a half-skinned tail, and was completely covered in mud and black oil.
“Well, it was meowing.” Severus insisted.
“Maybe it’s a nargle.”
“Harry. I think it’s a cat.”
“We could wash it and decide later.”
Severus’ lips quirked upwards. “Let’s do it.”
*
It was a cat. A kitten, more precisely.
After mud, dirt, and thick gobs of expired leftovers were shampooed away with warm water, underneath appeared a very small orange animal with huge eyes and a scarred, bowed back. It shivered at the far corner of the tub and slipped over its tiny paws repeatedly, attempting to get out and find someplace to hide.
Severus wrapped it tightly into a fluffy blue towel and dried off its head and whiskers, massaging it softly.
The kitten purred, attempting to catch his index finger and bite it.
Harry sighed and picked up the phone, redialing the last call.
“Not a nargle, Luna. Sorry.”
*
December 16, 2003
“We’re not keeping it.”
“Harry, concentrate. He weighs less than a pound. He has been abused and left to die in a bag. He barely has any teeth and it’s snowing. Are you insisting we throw him out?”
“It’s vomiting all over the place. Not keeping it.”
“If you had ever bothered to waste your precious time studying animal psychology, you would know that he does that because he feels insecure about his total change of environment. Either way, he sleeps for the best part of the day, so why—”
“And scratches everything for the best part of the night. And who the hell reads animal psychology in the first place?”
Severus’ eyebrows rose to his hairline. “I do.”
“Severus, look. Christmas is coming; we have a ton of preparations to do. We have neither time nor a place for a pet.”
A shattering sound came from the kitchen and they both ran quickly, to find the thing hanging by its front legs from the tall pantry, happily munching the wooden corner of it. Just below it on the floor, what used to be twelve crystal glasses especially made for champagne lay crushed into hundreds of small, sharp pieces.
Harry raised his wand and moved the cat to the ground, repairing the best part of the damage. He left to finish his office work. “Definitely not keeping it.”
*
December 18, 2003
“Severus, I need some help here!”
Harry was searching through his desk drawers for the formal papyrus scrolls they had bought from a gift shop in Diagon Alley a week ago.
Severus appeared at the door and came closer to sit on the sofa, just a few inches away from a pair of three long claw scratches that had ripped apart the expensive fabric of the furniture.
“I’ve begun writing the invitations for Christmas and I want to make them really original. You know, something they’d see and make them smile. Do you have any good idea?”
“Draw a green Christmas tree next to our names.”
Harry stared. “Yes, that’d be extremely original.”
“A Father Christmas, then.”
“Boring.”
“The Dark Mark.”
“Severus.”
“A snowman?”
“No.”
“Or a cat.”
“Severus. NO.”
*
December 19, 2003
“You call this a cat?”
Harry rubbed his forehead, disappointed, looking at the invitations stacked on the table. He was just finished writing and painting all fifty of them. Right under the date and everything, at the right bottom corner of each one, he had drawn a smiling orange cat. Or, more honestly, an orange egg with a human female mouth on it. Or something like that. The teeth looked perfect, anyway.
Harry collapsed on his chair, feeling sorry for himself. “Well, at least I tried to make it good. What did you do to help me all these days?”
Severus arched a mocking eyebrow. “I? Now, now. One would think you’re being absolutely ungrateful. I was the one who gave you the idea in the first place, was I not?”
Harry didn’t feel convinced at all about Severus’ efforts to contribute to the preparations of their party. “Hm. Anyway. I need to draw them again, I guess.”
Severus agreed. “Absolutely. Tom’s nothing like that five-footed eel you sketched there.”
“Oh come on, it’s not that ba- WHAT?”
“What?” Severus didn’t seem to have a clue about anything being wrong.
Harry’s eyes goggled and searched Severus’ in shock. “You named the cat Tom?”
“Why, yes, I did. It’s the most common cat name in the world. I suppose he needs a name until we find him a permanent home.”
Harry kept gaping, refusing to believe it. “Tom.”
“It’s monosyllabic.”
“Of all the—”
“What? It’s a cat name.”
“It’s HIS name!”
Severus let some seconds pass in silence, then replied amused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Why not John or George or Timothy, or… I don’t know, Donald?”
“It’s a cat. He needs a cat name.”
Harry thought about it for a few seconds before lifting his shoulders in a gesture of stating the obvious. “Jacob.”
“Harry. Cat name.”
“Jack?”
“That’s a dog name.”
Harry didn’t say anything.
*
December 22, 2003
“Hmm, yes! Harder.”
Snape thrust harder and Harry moaned, caressing his thighs and back and neck.
“God, I wanted to fuck you all day – take you like that ...” whispered Severus.
Harry’s cock was trapped between them, the friction of their entangled bodies too much for him to keep holding back. He licked the collarbone and kissed the hairy chest that was moving on top of him. A drop of sweat trickled from Severus’ neck to Harry’s chest and Harry moaned again.
“Severus! Oh – fuck, yess, more – please fuck – CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK!”
Harry pushed Severus away, cock slipping out of him awkwardly as Severus turned around to see what had made Harry jump up.
Tom was stretched out between the two velvet pillows of the bed, chewing and pulling excitedly on a previously used condom.
Severus yanked the latex away from the cat’s fangs and threw it into the basket.
“I forgot to lock the door,” he explained. “I put him on the sofa a couple of hours ago but it seems that he’s still afraid to sleep alone.” Severus tried a smile.
“Not a word, Severus.”
Harry snatched his pillow and left the room.
*
December 23, 2003
“We need a new Christmas tree,” Harry announced while observing the green fir in the sitting room.
Severus scanned it with his eyes, checking for imperfections. “Why, what’s wrong with this one?” They had just finished decorating it.
“It’s small.”
“Is not.”
“None of my friends has visited since we moved in together. I want them to like this house.”
“The tree won’t make a difference.”
“It will.”
Tom ran up to the fir and, meowing, entangled his paws in the strung lights. Harry and Severus remained motionless as Tom bit a ball, broke it, and then the tree sagged melodramatically and fell at their feet. For a moment, it looked like it was bowing to them. Then Tom jumped down from it and the tree all but flung itself up against the wall.
The rest of the balls cracked on the wall, too, and scattered to the floor.
“A new tree it is. Extraordinary idea,” commented Severus, and quickly took Tom out of Harry’s sight.
*
December 24, 2003
“I sent the owl,” said Harry as he came back to the bed and curled besides Severus. “Morning.”
Severus groaned and bent down to kiss him. “Congrats.”
“You do want to have a big Christmas party, right?” Harry sounded insecure and toyed with a button from Severus’ pajama shirt.
“Big Christmas Party,” Severus considered. “My home will be full of Gryffindors, people I hate, people I barely know the names of, and their completely unrelated-with-my-interests friends and families. Yes. I can’t wait.”
Harry kissed him again. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” said Severus.
The blanket purred.
*
December 25, 2003
“I don’t understand,” whined Harry, his forehead on the kitchen table. “No one came.”
Severus patted his back in forced sympathy, relieved that he could toss away his tie now. “I consider it highly unlikely that all your friends ignored you – maybe your owl died in the snow. The letters were too many for her to carry all at once, anyway.”
Harry opened an eye cautiously. “How’s that supposed to make me feel better?”
Severus looked up the ceiling as if meditating. “It was a stupid bird, but may it rest in peace, freezing in the snow – until the wolves eat it, of-”
“Severus!” Harry exhaled deeply, lightly banging his forehead on the table. “All these preparations, wasted! It took two trees, ten garlands, and thirty ties for you to choose.” And all of them were black. “What are we going to do now?”
Severus grasped a handful of Harry’s hair to lightly pull his head up. Harry pushed down in denial for a second and then he gave in.
“Spent Christmas without the dumbarses you wanted to invite, probably.”
Harry chuckled. Tom rubbed his head on his ankle and jumped up to his lap. Severus petted him.
An abrupt bang was heard from the window. Harry carried the cat with him and walked towards it, only to see all of his letters, unopened, thrown back to him.
“What the-”
Hedwig flew in and made an apologetic peep, before a second white owl flew in and sat beside her on the back of a chair. It seemed the owl had found herself some lover for the winter, and hadn’t bothered at all with Harry’s letters.
Severus closed the window and hugged Harry from behind, nuzzling into his hair. “Doesn’t look so bad a feast, does it?”
Harry chuckled. “No, it doesn’t. I was being an arse, wasn’t I?”