A Just Reward and other drabbles This is a combination of 100 word drabbles, written for snape100. It is, basically, HG/SS although her name sometimes isn't mentioned.
Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize belongs to me. Just borrowed. Will be returned. Snape is welcome to stay, though.
A big Thank You goes to my beta-reader and brit-picker, Melusin, who is always encouraging, helpful, and thorough. These drabbles were written for different challenges at the snape100 community.
Onwards
"Onwards, good lady. I shall find my goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!”
"Dear sir. Chocolates? How you tempt me!"
Severus blinked, blushed violently and stared.
"If you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon me, fair lady! My sword is yours to command."
The woman giggled. "Who could resist such passion and such fire?"
"Be of stout heart. The worst is yet to come!”
As if Valentine's day with all its pink hearts and musical messages wasn't enough. No, Severus had to come across a portrait with Sir Cadogan snogging the Fat Lady.
Eyes wide with horrified fascination, he stood stunned.
"Professor Snape, is something wrong?" Brown eyes looked at him with concern.
"Uh…" He gulped. "Professor Granger, I…" He stared at her, his face still red.
"What?" A smile slowly brightened her features. "Oh…"
She came closer. "I understand," she whispered softly. "There is no need to be embarrassed. Happy Valentine's day, Severus." She stood on her toes and kissed him gently.
A day full of surprises, he thought, but who was he to complain? Severus ignored the shocked cries from the Fat Lady and Sir Cadogan as he kissed Hermione back.
The Language of Flowers
Roses: their fragrance nauseated him. Their meaning – love – devastated him. Their appearance – proud, beautiful, confident – at the same time angered and tempted him. Just like she had.
Lily: purity and virginity. Or so he had thought until he had found her engaged in heavy petting with Potter behind the rose bushes. How he had wished he could have hexed them, back then, in another life.
He stared at the rose bushes in front of him, took his wand out and blasted them apart. Bits and pieces were flying everywhere; one landed on his sleeve. A rose leaf: you may hope.
She watched him punish the roses. Harbouring resentment, even after all these years. He hated roses and had told her why. And yet, they were a part of him. Severity and rigor: a branch of thorns. And love.
He stood stock still and glowered at the world. Crossing the lawn towards him, she found the fragile treasure in a cluster of its kind. She picked it up and smiled. His questioning gaze made her heart flutter.
"For you," she said.
He took her gift, then stared at her with gleaming eyes. The meaning of the four-leaf clover is: ‘Be mine.’
A Just Reward
The soft swelling of her breasts, hips, round buttocks; the delicious curves of her thighs: an invitation for his eyes to roam, for his fingertips to touch, caress.
The smooth texture of her skin, the smell of her arousal, the coarse springiness of her hair, the wetness between her legs: an offering for his lips, his tongue, his nose to feast on, to devour. The welcoming heat of her body when they joined: bliss.
But the ecstasy of his body when he climaxed was nothing compared to the ecstasy of his heart when she screamed out her love for him.
Green Fingers
A wizard's hands: the nexus of magic where wand-wood meets flesh; where raw power is harnessed.
She loved to watch his hands. They were thin and pale, just like the rest of him, yet full of hidden strength and beautiful to her.
Hands of a murderer, curse-green: that's what she’d thought when she was still a child. Later, she learned that they were hands that healed and helped.
His hands now moved the soil, caressing the earth like they caressed her flesh at night. They never were more beautiful than now, muddy-black and dusty, planting the flowers in their garden.