Emerald Star
Spoon the Magic Band Geek
*Present Day*
It started with a tube of muggle glue. Cold and sticky. Like him, after…after *it* happened. They always become cold and sticky. I sit here, alone, with my wand and the darkness to comfort me. Solace came so easily in drink, but I'll have none of it now. There is one thing left for me to do. I shall complete what he wanted me to do, to tell the story of us, and I will take away God's choice and be with him of my own accord. It's the least Destiny can give me…
*A Few Days Earlier*
I always did wonder what god sent this angel to me. I wake this morning to the sunshine spraying delicately across his face, his black hair shimmering around his head as he sleeps.
*…in…out…in…out…*
The steady rhythm of his breaths comforts me. The nightmares I have been having because of Voldemort are growing stronger, and I fear now not only for my life, but his. I kiss his forehead, waking him gently. "Good morning," I say, brushing a lock of errant ebony strands from his face. I smile, knowing that he loves me in return. I such an ugly monstrous thing, can be loved. I brought it upon myself, being this monster. Fighting tirelessly for a cause I had little faith in, and even littler hope of winning. But this bright soul found mine and fused itself to me, bringing with it the hope I had once had, long ago. He's my shining glory, my Emerald Star. And to think a *muggle* creation spawned such a perfect union…
*One Week Previous*
"Potter!"
Harry cringed as Professor Snape's voice rang clear in the crisp dungeon. He glanced at Ron, who was miming something awful to do to Snape, and looked back towards Snape. "Yes, sir?"
"I thought we were brewing a simple gluing potion, Potter. Not something toxic, like what you seem to have created. Although it does comfort me to know your mediocrity shall not falter. It keeps me sane." He turned back towards the desk, almost casually throwing over his shoulder, "Fifteen points from Gryffindor for your ineptitude."
Harry sighed and laid his head on his hands. The bell rang a few minutes later, and as Harry went to empty his now cold and messy cauldron, Snape called, "Mr. Potter! You will have a detention tonight in which you will, in under thirty minutes, brew a complete and successful gluing potion! Eight o'clock, Mr. Potter."
At eight, Harry made his way down to the dungeon, Ron's words on how Snape would try and kill him still ringing in his ears. He pushed the heavy oak door open, and entered.
"Ah, Mr. Potter. Good to see your friends have not kept you from this important meeting. You have, as I said, one half hour to complete the potion. It should be time enough to prepare it. Begin."
Harry pulled out a cauldron from the stack of clean ones on the far side of the room, got the ingredients, and went to work. Professor Snape, having seen Harry begin, went to the back of his room, opened an adjacent door, and entered his private chambers.
A bell signaled the end of a half hour, and Snape looked up from the book he had been studying. Rising, he made his way to the classroom where Potter was waiting patiently, his cauldron clean and empty, the ingredients untouched.
"Surely Potter, you can think of a more ingenious way to annoy me and fail your potions class for the year," said Snape, looking weary.
Harry didn't reply; he pulled out a tube from his pocket and presented it to Snape. "Superglue. Same properties, same ingredients. I bought it, so it counts as me making it. There's your damn potion."
Snape stood shocked at this harsh response. For once in his life, a student had made him speechless.
"What? No snaky remark? No witty comeback? Surely Professor, you can think of a more ingenious way to annoy me! No? Too bad." With that, Harry turned his back on Snape. 'Oh my God, did I just do that?' he thought, trying not to faint from the initial shock of it. 'I am so dead! Snape'll have me out of here so quick, I won't have time to blink!' Harry started to sway, his head spinning. The last thing he felt before he passed out was two hands supporting him, keeping him up, and a soothing voice talking to him.
"Harry, it's time to wake."
Harry opened his eyes groggily, and sat up. He didn't know where he was, but from the looks of it, it wasn't his dorm room.
"Harry are you awake?" The voice cam from Harry's right, calm yet strong. He looked over and felt his face go red, then blanch as he remembered what he had done to Snape.
"I assure you Mr. Potter, that little stunt you pulled *will* reflect on your grades, but no, I will not go to the headmaster." Snape helped Harry off of the couch he has been set on, and to a small table in a nearby kitchen. A glass of water was set before Harry, chilled, but not cold.
'I wonder why he's being so nice,' thought Harry as he sipped his water. He looked up into the coal black eyes, and shuddered. He felt floaty, like Snape had spiked his water with something.
Judging from the look on Harry's face, Snape casually said, " No Harry, I did not poison your water. You are tired, and you suffered a small concussion before I was able to catch you. I believe you hit your head on a desk." He reached over and touched a finger to the knot on Harry's head, soft and feather light. He knew he was being out of the usual character, but he felt it was merited, due to the conditions. A student had gotten the best of him, and he'd be damned if he let that student go without knowing why and how.
"I expect that you are hungry, as you have been sleeping on my couch for nearly thirteen hours. It's already breakfast." Harry made a jump to get up, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Don't tax yourself; it's Saturday. Although I'm sure your friends are starting to worry." Harry nodded numbly, still a little groggy.
"Ugh, my head hurts. Professor, do you happen to have any aspirin?" Harry glanced at Snape, whose eyes had taken a sparkle to them. Snape smiled.
"Harry, I am a fully accredited potions master. I have no need for aspirin. Here," he said rising, going to a cabinet in the kitchen. "Try some of this." He handed a black bottle to Harry, who took a tiny sip. His headache ceased immediately, merely a phantom pain.
"Wow, uh, that's really, uh, potent, sir," stammered Harry, who was blushing because of the kindness he was observing. Snape smiled, something he rarely did, and sat back down. "Harry, you are not leaving until you tell me why you saw fit to pull a stunt like that during a detention." Harry looked down, his ears beginning to flame red, like Ron's did.
Harry began slowly, starting from the time he was a small child, recounting why he hated it when people made him feel small, and kept him from being defiant. What started as a fifteen minute hearing and reprimand soon transformed into a four hour talk on the nature of Harry's childhood, and his mistreatment, and why the world hated him, and oh, everything that he felt, and why he couldn't do this and that, and soon enough, Snape rose, and by pure need to shut Harry up, leaned over and brushed his lips against Harry's.
Harry, silent now, stared at Snape. Snape, who had prolonged the kiss to much more, sat back and touched his now reddened lips. "I apologize for that. That was unnecessary and unforgivable. Excuse me." Snape rose, and started for his private chambers, hoping that had been dismissal enough for Harry, who still sat there, dazed and lethargic. Snape glanced back in time to have his lips crushed by Harry. 'Damned Seeker reflexes,' Snape thought as his lips became bruised. Tongues met, and became embroiled in a battle for dominance. Fingers and hands roamed, touching feather light and soft, seeking unexplored places. Harry pushed Snape against the nearest wall gently and began to fiddle with Snape's shirt. Icy hands clasped at Harry's, forcing him away from both the shirt, but also his lips from Snape's. "We *cannot* do this, Mr. Potter," Snape said coldly. "You are a student and I am a teacher; this is wrong."
Harry paused for a moment before replying, "If it's so wrong, why do your eyes say you want me and why does your body respond to me?" As he spoke, he ground his hips into Snape's, forcing contact.
Snape gasped, the flames growing in his nether regions, the heat building. The feeling of Harry's desire against his made it sweeter, and all that much harder to resist. "Please,…we must not…cannot…do this…" He moaned as Harry stole his lips for another kiss, gentler than the first, yet no less sweet.
"It's all right. There's nothing that says this is forbidden, and I know you want this. Do want to know why I gave you a tube of superglue? Did it ever occur to you that most wizards wouldn't wander around with a tube of it in their pockets? I want you. That's why I did it. It got your attention, which is exactly what I wanted." Harry accentuated the last few words with kisses between them, his hands trailing over Snape's chest.
Snape tried to fight the heady incense that was Harry, and did a good show of it until Harry's hands started unfastening his shirt. Giving in, he took Harry's hands and set them on his chest, while he unfastened Harry's robe. Letting his fingertips wander over each newly exposed skin, Snape started tugging gently on Harry's earlobe, and kissing his way down his neck. Harry moaned and allowed himself to be led to the couch, his hands seeking what had yet to be found, and his heart racing skywards towards heaven…
*Present Day Again*
The few short days he and I had together were like a dream. We came up with so many uses for the tube of superglue. I knew I loved him, and that he loved me in return. My work is finished here. The story, short and anticlimactic, is still one of sweetness. Bitter enemies finding their love for the other, and reveling in it for a few glorious days before one is tragically struck down. Damn those errant Death Eaters anyway. I'm free of them now. They'll never hurt me again. And to think, I'll be happy with my lover. I've decided against the razor, it's to painful, and I'd rather not spend eternity with him with constantly dripping wounds, or painful scars. Vain, I know, but only the best can be for my Emerald Star. Only the best for him, ever.
*…i'm coming love… hold on for just a few moments…the poison is quick…not quick enough…just be patient beloved…i'm coming home…Severus, i'm coming home finally…finally…*
Fin.
*Disclaimers, yo. Word-Diggity, this belongs to me. The characters belong to not me. They belong to J.K. Rowling. Ask for archiving rights, don't run over already dead road kill, and be sure to drink your Ovaltine. Nighty-o kiddies, I'm sleepy. Peace
~~~Spoon the Magic Band Geek, unoriginal2004@yahoo.co.uk
Spoon the Magic Band Geek
*Present Day*
It started with a tube of muggle glue. Cold and sticky. Like him, after…after *it* happened. They always become cold and sticky. I sit here, alone, with my wand and the darkness to comfort me. Solace came so easily in drink, but I'll have none of it now. There is one thing left for me to do. I shall complete what he wanted me to do, to tell the story of us, and I will take away God's choice and be with him of my own accord. It's the least Destiny can give me…
*A Few Days Earlier*
I always did wonder what god sent this angel to me. I wake this morning to the sunshine spraying delicately across his face, his black hair shimmering around his head as he sleeps.
*…in…out…in…out…*
The steady rhythm of his breaths comforts me. The nightmares I have been having because of Voldemort are growing stronger, and I fear now not only for my life, but his. I kiss his forehead, waking him gently. "Good morning," I say, brushing a lock of errant ebony strands from his face. I smile, knowing that he loves me in return. I such an ugly monstrous thing, can be loved. I brought it upon myself, being this monster. Fighting tirelessly for a cause I had little faith in, and even littler hope of winning. But this bright soul found mine and fused itself to me, bringing with it the hope I had once had, long ago. He's my shining glory, my Emerald Star. And to think a *muggle* creation spawned such a perfect union…
*One Week Previous*
"Potter!"
Harry cringed as Professor Snape's voice rang clear in the crisp dungeon. He glanced at Ron, who was miming something awful to do to Snape, and looked back towards Snape. "Yes, sir?"
"I thought we were brewing a simple gluing potion, Potter. Not something toxic, like what you seem to have created. Although it does comfort me to know your mediocrity shall not falter. It keeps me sane." He turned back towards the desk, almost casually throwing over his shoulder, "Fifteen points from Gryffindor for your ineptitude."
Harry sighed and laid his head on his hands. The bell rang a few minutes later, and as Harry went to empty his now cold and messy cauldron, Snape called, "Mr. Potter! You will have a detention tonight in which you will, in under thirty minutes, brew a complete and successful gluing potion! Eight o'clock, Mr. Potter."
At eight, Harry made his way down to the dungeon, Ron's words on how Snape would try and kill him still ringing in his ears. He pushed the heavy oak door open, and entered.
"Ah, Mr. Potter. Good to see your friends have not kept you from this important meeting. You have, as I said, one half hour to complete the potion. It should be time enough to prepare it. Begin."
Harry pulled out a cauldron from the stack of clean ones on the far side of the room, got the ingredients, and went to work. Professor Snape, having seen Harry begin, went to the back of his room, opened an adjacent door, and entered his private chambers.
A bell signaled the end of a half hour, and Snape looked up from the book he had been studying. Rising, he made his way to the classroom where Potter was waiting patiently, his cauldron clean and empty, the ingredients untouched.
"Surely Potter, you can think of a more ingenious way to annoy me and fail your potions class for the year," said Snape, looking weary.
Harry didn't reply; he pulled out a tube from his pocket and presented it to Snape. "Superglue. Same properties, same ingredients. I bought it, so it counts as me making it. There's your damn potion."
Snape stood shocked at this harsh response. For once in his life, a student had made him speechless.
"What? No snaky remark? No witty comeback? Surely Professor, you can think of a more ingenious way to annoy me! No? Too bad." With that, Harry turned his back on Snape. 'Oh my God, did I just do that?' he thought, trying not to faint from the initial shock of it. 'I am so dead! Snape'll have me out of here so quick, I won't have time to blink!' Harry started to sway, his head spinning. The last thing he felt before he passed out was two hands supporting him, keeping him up, and a soothing voice talking to him.
"Harry, it's time to wake."
Harry opened his eyes groggily, and sat up. He didn't know where he was, but from the looks of it, it wasn't his dorm room.
"Harry are you awake?" The voice cam from Harry's right, calm yet strong. He looked over and felt his face go red, then blanch as he remembered what he had done to Snape.
"I assure you Mr. Potter, that little stunt you pulled *will* reflect on your grades, but no, I will not go to the headmaster." Snape helped Harry off of the couch he has been set on, and to a small table in a nearby kitchen. A glass of water was set before Harry, chilled, but not cold.
'I wonder why he's being so nice,' thought Harry as he sipped his water. He looked up into the coal black eyes, and shuddered. He felt floaty, like Snape had spiked his water with something.
Judging from the look on Harry's face, Snape casually said, " No Harry, I did not poison your water. You are tired, and you suffered a small concussion before I was able to catch you. I believe you hit your head on a desk." He reached over and touched a finger to the knot on Harry's head, soft and feather light. He knew he was being out of the usual character, but he felt it was merited, due to the conditions. A student had gotten the best of him, and he'd be damned if he let that student go without knowing why and how.
"I expect that you are hungry, as you have been sleeping on my couch for nearly thirteen hours. It's already breakfast." Harry made a jump to get up, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Don't tax yourself; it's Saturday. Although I'm sure your friends are starting to worry." Harry nodded numbly, still a little groggy.
"Ugh, my head hurts. Professor, do you happen to have any aspirin?" Harry glanced at Snape, whose eyes had taken a sparkle to them. Snape smiled.
"Harry, I am a fully accredited potions master. I have no need for aspirin. Here," he said rising, going to a cabinet in the kitchen. "Try some of this." He handed a black bottle to Harry, who took a tiny sip. His headache ceased immediately, merely a phantom pain.
"Wow, uh, that's really, uh, potent, sir," stammered Harry, who was blushing because of the kindness he was observing. Snape smiled, something he rarely did, and sat back down. "Harry, you are not leaving until you tell me why you saw fit to pull a stunt like that during a detention." Harry looked down, his ears beginning to flame red, like Ron's did.
Harry began slowly, starting from the time he was a small child, recounting why he hated it when people made him feel small, and kept him from being defiant. What started as a fifteen minute hearing and reprimand soon transformed into a four hour talk on the nature of Harry's childhood, and his mistreatment, and why the world hated him, and oh, everything that he felt, and why he couldn't do this and that, and soon enough, Snape rose, and by pure need to shut Harry up, leaned over and brushed his lips against Harry's.
Harry, silent now, stared at Snape. Snape, who had prolonged the kiss to much more, sat back and touched his now reddened lips. "I apologize for that. That was unnecessary and unforgivable. Excuse me." Snape rose, and started for his private chambers, hoping that had been dismissal enough for Harry, who still sat there, dazed and lethargic. Snape glanced back in time to have his lips crushed by Harry. 'Damned Seeker reflexes,' Snape thought as his lips became bruised. Tongues met, and became embroiled in a battle for dominance. Fingers and hands roamed, touching feather light and soft, seeking unexplored places. Harry pushed Snape against the nearest wall gently and began to fiddle with Snape's shirt. Icy hands clasped at Harry's, forcing him away from both the shirt, but also his lips from Snape's. "We *cannot* do this, Mr. Potter," Snape said coldly. "You are a student and I am a teacher; this is wrong."
Harry paused for a moment before replying, "If it's so wrong, why do your eyes say you want me and why does your body respond to me?" As he spoke, he ground his hips into Snape's, forcing contact.
Snape gasped, the flames growing in his nether regions, the heat building. The feeling of Harry's desire against his made it sweeter, and all that much harder to resist. "Please,…we must not…cannot…do this…" He moaned as Harry stole his lips for another kiss, gentler than the first, yet no less sweet.
"It's all right. There's nothing that says this is forbidden, and I know you want this. Do want to know why I gave you a tube of superglue? Did it ever occur to you that most wizards wouldn't wander around with a tube of it in their pockets? I want you. That's why I did it. It got your attention, which is exactly what I wanted." Harry accentuated the last few words with kisses between them, his hands trailing over Snape's chest.
Snape tried to fight the heady incense that was Harry, and did a good show of it until Harry's hands started unfastening his shirt. Giving in, he took Harry's hands and set them on his chest, while he unfastened Harry's robe. Letting his fingertips wander over each newly exposed skin, Snape started tugging gently on Harry's earlobe, and kissing his way down his neck. Harry moaned and allowed himself to be led to the couch, his hands seeking what had yet to be found, and his heart racing skywards towards heaven…
*Present Day Again*
The few short days he and I had together were like a dream. We came up with so many uses for the tube of superglue. I knew I loved him, and that he loved me in return. My work is finished here. The story, short and anticlimactic, is still one of sweetness. Bitter enemies finding their love for the other, and reveling in it for a few glorious days before one is tragically struck down. Damn those errant Death Eaters anyway. I'm free of them now. They'll never hurt me again. And to think, I'll be happy with my lover. I've decided against the razor, it's to painful, and I'd rather not spend eternity with him with constantly dripping wounds, or painful scars. Vain, I know, but only the best can be for my Emerald Star. Only the best for him, ever.
*…i'm coming love… hold on for just a few moments…the poison is quick…not quick enough…just be patient beloved…i'm coming home…Severus, i'm coming home finally…finally…*
Fin.
*Disclaimers, yo. Word-Diggity, this belongs to me. The characters belong to not me. They belong to J.K. Rowling. Ask for archiving rights, don't run over already dead road kill, and be sure to drink your Ovaltine. Nighty-o kiddies, I'm sleepy. Peace
~~~Spoon the Magic Band Geek, unoriginal2004@yahoo.co.uk