psyfic (psyfic) wrote in snapelyholidays, @ 2008-12-13 01:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2008_fic, dub-con, snape/harry, violence |
13th Snapely Holidays Entry - Shelter from the Storm (Snape/Harry)
Fic for: venturous
Title: Shelter from the Storm
Author: starcrossdkayla
Pairing Snape/Harry
Rating NC-17
Warnings Dub/con, violence, sex
Summary In the forests of Scotland, Harry hunts Death Eaters and they hunt him. But is he ready to face Severus Snape?
Disclaimer The world of HP and its characters belongs to Rowling. The author of this fic has borrowed them for the purposes of storytelling. No profit was or will be made.
Word count ~8,770
Betas florahart and research girl. Both of you were absolutely wonderful and I could not have done this story without you. Any mistakes that remain are my own.
Thanks also to: thewhitestar, Randi, magic_helmet
In the growing dusk, Harry crouched against the rough bark of the tree blocking some of the biting wind. Shivering, he pulled his invisibility cloak tighter around himself, even though the thin cloth didn't provide much in the way of warmth. Who could have predicted that Autumn in Scotland could get so fucking cold? The spell Hermione had found kept his clothes warm and dry even in the pounding rain, but it did nothing to protect his skin and somehow the damp chill worked its way in, leaving even his well-wrapped torso frigid. Once again, he resisted the urge to cast a simple warming spell so that his fingers no longer felt like freezepops. It would be simple and easy; however, magic left traces and he had learned two weeks into this hell only to cast in the field when it was absolutely necessary.
The rain poured in thick, blinding sheets around him as he slowly inched his way towards the river, his eyes scanning the tree line. Suddenly he lost his footing on the slippery bank and his legs shot out from under him, flipping him over onto his stomach on the muddy embankment. He thrust out his arms, groping blindly with his left hand in the mud, scrambling to find purchase amongst the tree roots and weeds without losing his wand. He managed to wrap his free hand around a root just as his feet splashed into the cold water and an arctic chill surged through his body.
Cursing to himself, Harry shoved his wand between his teeth, grimacing at the mud coating the wood, and grabbed onto the root with his right hand. Pain erupted from the still-healing wound on his right arm, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He dug his cold, wet feet into the mud and hauled himself back to drier land, where he spat the dirt from his mouth and curled into a ball, pulling his cloak over his huddled form as he waited to catch his breath. A bolt of lightning lit up the entire forest brighter than daylight while a deep rumble of thunder rolled in from a distance. The wind lashed the trees violently, scattering twigs and leaves on the ground. Harry hoped that the sounds of the storm masked his clumsy fall but he knew it was best not to take chances and so he hid, waiting under his cloak for one of them to come investigate the noise.
For three long, agonizing minutes he remained there, muscles tense, ready to spring up at the slightest notice to attack or defend. When he heard nothing but the pounding of rain, and peals of thunder; and saw nothing but the wind lashing the trees, he started to climb to his feet.
And then he saw it, a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye that didn't match the patterns of the storm. He halted, adrenaline flooding his body. Halfway to his feet, he stared at the dark shadow skulking by the edge of the trees to his left. The black figure glided through the trees with far too much deliberation to be an animal searching for shelter from the storm. It had to be a Death Eater. The Order members knew not to enter his territory without alerting him first and, despite months in the field, he had never encountered a Muggle.
Had the Death Eater spotted his legs or just heard the noise and come to investigate? Harry knew his cloak would protect him from detection as long as he kept himself fully covered. If he hadn't been seen, then his best bet was to wait. If the Death Eater had spied the flash of Harry's trainers and jeans, then he needed to run.
Harry returned to a crouch, moving ever so slightly with each slow, paced breath, his wand in a white-knuckle grip in his hand. He had mastered the art of controlling his breathing and his movements so that now only his heart beat was out of control. Blood pounding in his ears, he pointed his wand towards the figure in black and prayed that he had just tipped the scales from prey to hunter.
The slow pulse of magic, a detection spell most likely, flowed through him and his heart skipped a beat. Unless this Death Eater was inexperienced, Harry hadn't been seen. It would be foolish of the Death Eater to give away his position with a spell if he knew that Harry had scrambled onto the bank. Moving at glacial speed, Harry lowered his wand to the mud and pushed the tip out ever so carefully. His eyes focused on the figure in black that had paused by the base of a large tree several yards away from where he hid. A year ago Harry would've attacked, but he had learned to bide his time and so he waited, hoping that the figure would advance rather than retreat.
After a lengthy pause, the Death Eater granted his wish and swept out from the safety of the trees straight towards Harry. Harry forced himself to hold back his attack, counting to five in his head as he waited for the figure to come close enough to cast upon.
The shadow glided straight at him, moving so effortlessly that, for a second, Harry wondered if he had chanced upon a Dementor by mistake. But as the dark form moved closer, the unmistakable white smear of a human face appeared and Harry lifted his wand and cried 'Stupefy!' just as the Death Eater cast another detection spell.
Months of warfare had trained him well and he caught the Death Eater straight in the chest, the red spell dissipating as it hit its target. Harry jumped to his feet and cast another Stupefy as he ran towards the fallen Death Eater who now lay in a crumpled heap of black. Long, black hair covered the face of whomever he had hit, but when Harry got close enough to make out the cut of the robes, he knew immediately who he had captured: Severus Snape.