Snarry Drabbles!
Warning: Slash.
Disclaimer: Yaddayaddayadda, so JKR is a genius, and all of the characters are hers, and I own nothing except for these far-fetched plots...
A/N: I made up something about fall holidays, since I desperately wanted the setting to take place in Autumn. It's pretty!
Oh yar...If anyone needs beta, I volunteer!
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1. Snape's Best Memory.
Brisk autumn winds rustled his billowing cloak, a sheet of dark hair covered a decent amount of his face, allowing a hooked nose and sallow skin to be observed. The sky was nearly reaching sunset, a swift movement into the twilight hour on the Fall day. The grass dewy, and the grounds empty, Severus found Hogwarts to be exquisitely beautiful. Eyes black as volcanic glass darted methodically left and right. This simple act of paranoia was something Severus Snape was accustomed to, his entire life riddles with instances that always caused him to discreetly evaluate his surroundings with a practiced Slytherin mask, whether it be to avoid being cused into oblivion, or rudely hoisted up by his ankles by that ludicrous...no. Severus didn't dwell on that incident, it would cause him to swell with painful emotion, rather annoyingly indescribable emotion not quite anger, or humiliation, rather a yearning. He couldn't be angry, not with the treat in which was to come.
Oddly, his gaze settled upon the large tree near the lake, where his wost memory had taken place, where James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and that insufferable Pettigrew sat and conversed in their tightly closed knit of company. The Gryffindors always looked so at ease, there, a familial, brotherly aura that projected warmth and contentment. James, always playing with the golden snitch, that little ball more than likely engraved with Potter's finger imprints. Sirius' black, shaggy head in Remus' lap as the sandy hair young man read, fingers absently grazing through Black's hair. Even then, Remus as always more mature, steaks of grey noticable even then at Hogwarts. And Pettigrew, a social outcast in general, even more than Snape himself, was always seemingly alone, especially in the company of the young men he always followed adoringly. Snape had envied their closeness, but by no means of his imagination were he ever to admit that to himself, as a Slytherin, his pride was displayed in a cool mask of superiority. He did not play silly Gryffindor games. A small grin settled peacefully onto his lips. It was comforting to know he wasn't so affected, that he could admit, even to himself, that he craved that warmth and not be ashamed.
He neared the tall tree, an orange glow settling on his pale skin as he stared into the dark branches, covered in warm colors of scarlet, gold, and yellow. Snape was not the one for artistic observation, gazing deeply at the departing leaves, but they held his interest.
That was a good thing for the green eyes glaring at him predatorily, for Harry Potter sat, perched upon thick branch five feet from the tall, dark figure. Harry's body was hidden in a mass of leaves, rough branches nicking his sweater, his legs, and his face, but it was worth it. With a small coo, issuing from his full lips, Harry lowered himself slightly, to be just above Snape's distracted head, whispering sweetly, "Sev..." Severus looked up just in time to see a flushed faced, tanned young man collapse onto his chest. Staggering slightly with suprise, then satisfaction, as he realized who was gently snaking their arms around his darkly clothed shoulders, plunging a palm into his loose hair, and planting a sweet kiss on his lips, Severus pulled away reluctantly. He burrowed his nose into Harry's soft skin lovingly, feeling his lover smile into his ears and his slender, youthful legs winding themselves around his waist.
"What took you so long?" Harry whispered breathlessly, taking time to roll a careful tongue along the firm cartilage of Snape's ear.
"Merely reminiscing, Potter..."
"I bet I know what about, Sev, I have my reasons for choosing this special area."
Severus did not answer, but rather positioned his head to stare at Harry for a long moment. His expression was unreadable, and the stoic set of his piercing gaze was timeless. He shifted to sit the two down at the roots of the tree, Harry sitting back, coyly on his lap. Snape ran a pale hand on the tanned flesh of his lover, windblown and cool with goosebumps, a rouge flush at the heighth of Harry's cheekbones. Vivid green eyes stared in wonder as Severus took off Harry's glasses, and gently set them on the side of the trunk, and he leaned upward to the beautiful young man sitting wantonly, and kissed Harry, who melted into the soft caress of the pale man's tongue probing his.
What happened next erased the pain of that tree, and as twlight set in, Snape's Best Memory was forged.