spfestmod (spfestmod) wrote in snape_potter, @ 2023-05-23 10:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic, rating: pg-13, snarry-a-thon23 |
Snarry-a-Thon23: FIC: Line by line
Title: Line by line
Author: SerenaEW
Other pairings/threesome: none
Rating: T
Word count: 7829
Content/Warning(s): Romance, Poetry, Calligraphy as art form, Librarian Harry Potter, Artist Harry Potter, Professor Severus Snape, References to Christianity, light angst, happy ending
Prompt: No. 036: Harry finds a journal filled with poetry about him hidden in the room of requirement. The journal continues to update with new entries. Someone has the twin journal and is in love with him while Harry falls in love with the author. What happens when the poet finally signs his name?
Summary: After an involuntary exile from the Wizarding World, Harry is now Assistant Librarian at Hogwarts and part-time artist. Who is the poet of the Hogwarts-inspired verses he is creating art for?
Beginning A/N: So. This was created on the deadest of deadlines, finished in an all-night (mara)thon [haha] on the day of submission. I hope it's not too messy...It's certainly not as well-researched as I'd like it to be, but, well. Also, it ran far, far away from the original Thon prompt, though I hope it's sufficiently in its spirit for you, dear prompter, to still like it.
Many thanks to: Klari for all your ideas, your beta work, and for allowing me to quote your Quidditch Blitz, titC, for also giving me so many ideas, and for your beta work, and Qtap and Cheerful_Clatter for your late-night betaing sessions. Torino, Thon mod, for granting me this extension, and for your endless patience and for your encouragement, and all of you who groaned and cheered through this with me. This work would never have been possible without you. For the full list of prompts this is inspired by, see end notes.
Read on AO3
Received August 13th, 2001
Still
life stretches wide in front
of me: a sight familiar, yet
unseen by these eyes, newly
uncovered.
Uncovered
in the quiet shimmer of water,
float splinters of shattered barks,
damp, untouched by the sun,
forgotten.
Forgotten
are the ripples of summers
and winters past. Laps of clear
waves calm the heating
sand.
Sand
flows with the currents, and so
it seems, will you, seeking
relief in water's cool
allure.
Allure
of sirens sings of treasures
lost. Melodies of youth and
fortune beckon you to fluid
depths.
Depths
will swallow you, take you
hostage. I fear, in your search,
you may lose yourself, without
return.
Return
to the shore. Navigate carefully,
for the lake is murky. I will wait
for you, wade in after you, pull you
close.
Close
My eyes, and the mirage is gone.
Take in the details, prepare,
as, for now, the water lies
still.
Received February 10th, 2002
Come hither, fellow wanderer,
Do you hear Mystery call?
You, who seek respite!
It begs most loudly at night:
How long has it been since you last felt
The thrill of adventure,
These leaves' green call in rushing wind,
Promising answers?
Or the phoenix's trilling melody?
Thestrals wail into the night,
Have you seen the unicorns,
No longer bleeding nor hidden,
Revered their dances from afar?
Mingling light and dark.
Have you sought the centaurs' wisdom,
Or has knowledge found you,
Shining brightly in the stars?
Fatal, unavoidable,
Have you smelled the rain before
Rising from charred earth
Breathing life into these grounds;
Where memories are buried deep?
Have you tasted the elderberries
– Beware the fruits of nightshade
Growing from these ancient woods?
Flourishing where hopes were lost.
I am sure you must remember
Bear in mind the strength
The bitter tang of dittany
Of foxglove and of monkshood
Harvested here, bringing relief;
Used to ban what cannot be bound.
You must have felt the warming wood
As you cross this forest hiding the tear
Of the wiggentree that lined
Scarred paths leading through
Our home, as it is restored with
These burn-marked trees,
Fir and oak and sycamore.
Wounds not yet overgrown,
Oh seeker, wander no further.
Retreat and wait for time to heal.
Come home with me and see.
Received April 12th, 2003
Alone she stands in moonlight's glint,
white catkins gleaming. No footprint
of man or beast disturbs her slumber
as she sways calmly with the wind.
The quietude belies the strength of her
strike. Her image used to deter
me. She reminded me, yet hid from view
the path that led to hidden horror.
She had seen monsters, beasts, knew
them like none other, yet she lived, grew.
Perhaps, just like you drove your mark
on her, she whipped resilience into you.
Tell me: If I were to touch her bark,
braid her branches, chase the lark
luring me to her twigs: would she
lash out at me in the dark?
Signed: HBP
"'Die trying
Trying to win the game
Trying to protect
Protect the goals
Protect the seeker…'
Recounted April 19th, 2003
Darkness defeated; finally sunrise and victory greet us.
Come and delight in its joy, celebrate! Thus was the call.
He cannot revel, he feels no triumph. He sees only ruin,
All that is left in waste, squandered to carnage and loss:
Hollowed out walls in sacred hallways his comrades once guarded,
Piles of cursed iron shards, gathered in motionless heaps.
Battered and torn, they lie strewn, far and wide, or crushed beneath rubble;
presumed invincible shields, so many fell – but not he.
He, who stood as foes fled behind him, attacking his fellows:
Why is he mended, restored? He has not given enough.
Loosened plates of metal, his empty shell still continues
Standing hollowly, staring at silence ahead.
What is left when spellcraft fades away as does duty,
Stonily leading his way? When there is no further need,
Nothing left for used-up armour staining the victors?
Metal is cast anew – he will be shortly cast out.
Received April 27th, 2003
Waters seek seas beyond the cliff.
Waters seek seas beyond the cliff,
they flow from lakes and leap.
They flow from lakes and leap.
Waters flow; they seek beyond
the cliff, leap from lakes and seas,
bright curtains wishing sunbeams.
Bright curtains wishing sunbeams:
sprays fall into rainbows.
Sprays fall into rainbows,
Sunbeams fall on bright curtains,
wishing rainbows into sprays.
Down I stare, touch and fly.
Down I stare, touch and fly,
follow the path to the cascade.
Follow the path to the cascade.
I stare down the cascade, touch,
and follow the path to fly.
Waters fall from curtains, stare;
They follow the path. I leap down the
cliff, cascade beyond the lakes
and seas, fly into bright sprays:
wishing to flow on sunbeams
and seek rainbows' touch.
Gifted December 20th 2003
I give you my ardour, in fern enclosed.
Only poppy and foxglove has it learnt:
The tongue of my heart does not know red rose,
though, what little it knows, you have not spurned.
In dandelion, you catch its flying
wishes. In foxglove, your holly magic
captures the path to our future, rising
brightly before us. You bring harmonics
where discordance reigned. Your passion blazes,
ignites flames high enough to meld swords to
rings. You taught us how to begin anew:
Together, we meet tomorrow's changes.
Tonight, let us raise the light of this fire
for all to see, so it may never tire.
Signed: Severus