sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-15 08:44 am
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-15 08:44 am
Entry tags:
Short HP Fics: True Crime, King And Cavalier
Title: True Crime
Fandom: Harry Potter
Notes: Gen, PG for a little gore. Snape-centric. Inspired by my Random Wiki Link.
Warnings: None.
First Posted 2/28/07
Available at AO3.
***
"What will you do now?"
Harry Potter leaned in the doorway of the little bedroom at Twelve Grimmauld Place, watching as Severus packed the few personal items the room held into a carton. His eyes, keen as ever, followed Snape's hands as they cradled the objects gently, wrapping some in tissue to protect them.
Snape didn't look up.
"Absolved of all guilt, hailed as a hero, defended as a spy for our side...dream come true for you, isn't it?" Harry asked, trying another tactic. Talking to Snape was like dentistry; you had to keep poking until you got a reaction. He tried not to sound bitter.
"I am not absolved. Absolution requires forgiveness. I am merely found not-guilty by society," Snape retorted, casting a quick cleaning charm across the dusty windows.
"Whose forgiveness?"
Snape gave him a sardonic look. Harry narrowed his eyes.
"You didn't answer my question," he repeated. Snape began packing the books in the shelves, a much larger task. "Now that the war is over, what will you do?"
"That is none of your concern."
"It's the concern of wizardkind. You're one of us now. At least in their eyes."
"But not in yours."
"You never wanted to be. You'd be insulted at the implication."
Severus stopped packing, both hands still in the carton, holding a book.
"This will go to Spinner's End," he said. "All of this. Then you may burn the place down or blow it up, it doesn't matter to me."
"That's what I'm going to do, not what you're going to do."
"Damn it, you foul little excretion, will you not leave me in peace!"
There was a knock on the doorframe, and Remus Lupin leaned around the edge, looming a little over Harry.
"Are we shouting at each other?" he asked mildly.
"Your turn to try," Harry sighed, and ducked under Remus' arm to escape. The two men, on more equal footing than Severus and Harry ever could be, exchanged a resigned look. Remus stepped into the room and pulled the door shut behind him.
"You should tell someone, at least, so that we know where to reach you," he said. His tone was gentle and noncommittal, but his eyes betrayed a certain level of curiousity.
"Why?"
"Because, Severus, like it or not, there are those who care about you."
"Don't condescend."
"I'm not," Remus said. "You're a horrible bastard and you've screwed me at least twice in this lifetime, but I've gotten rather used to you. And there's always the next life to get you back for it."
Severus sat on the bed, another book in his hands. Remus shoved his own hands in his pockets, waiting patiently.
"Brewery and concoction are what I teach, what I excel at," he begain slowly. "They are not what I am passionate about, except in the sense that one must be passionate to be properly precise."
"All right."
"You'll laugh at me."
"Shan't," Remus said, but he was already smiling. "Severus, are you confessing that you have a hobby? Oh, do tell me you're a kite-maker or an oil painter or something."
"Nothing so puerile."
"What, then? Are you running off to Africa to study Masai dance rituals?"
The mental image of himself in a Masai robe, a rope of shells and beads around his neck, made even Severus' lips twitch.
"I'm going to America," he said.
"Amerindian dance rituals, then."
"No." Severus offered Remus the book in his hands. Remus studied the title.
"Dark Chicago: A History of True Crime in the Windy City," he read aloud. "So?"
"Well, you know how people are always going on about unsolved mysteries." Snape gestured airily at the book.
"You're going to Chicago."
"Yes."
"To solve some unsolved mysteries."
"To investigate," Snape corrected.
"Why...Severus, why Chicago? London wasn't good enough for you? Jack the Ripper?"
"I want a change of scenery," Snape insisted, as Remus hid his smile behind one hand.
"Well, Chicago will certainly be that."
"You've really no idea, it's very interesting," Snape said.
"I'm certain."
"There was a butcher who turned his wife into sausages."
"Sounds like they solved that one."
"And there's the Grimes sisters, they were murdered in nineteen-fifty-six."
"Gruesome."
"Quite."
Remus handed the book back to him. "I suppose it makes sense, really. Wizards have all kinds of tools that Muggles haven't got for solving this kind of case. Talking to ghosts, for one thing."
"Precisely."
"And it's quite appropriate that you would wish to set things right."
Snape looked up sharply at him. "What?"
Remus tilted his head. "Well, that's why you're going there, isn't it? to set things right?"
"I -- " Snape paused. "Why would you think that?"
"Severus." Remus sat on the bed, far enough away that Severus would not withdraw in distaste. "You must admit you've made a few cock-ups. And, all right, there have been a few made at your expense. Solving the unsolved, setting the world back in order...makes perfect sense to me, anyway. Your life's a little tip-tilted. All that guilt..."
They were silent for a while. Finally, Remus grinned, then laughed to himself.
"What is so amusing?"
"I was just picturing you riding the subway, wrapped up in one of those huge mufflers and a balaclava to keep your enormous nose warm..."
Title: King and Cavalier
Fandom: Harry Potter
Notes: Harry/Hermione/Viktor, R for sex. Inspired by a challenge ("Choose from the words: Ron, Viktor, Narcissa, knife, cavalier, body heat, young").
Warnings: None.
Available at AO3.
***
The Cavalier Ball was supposed to be the highlight of the year's social calendar, which was why Hermione Granger held out no hope at all of attending.
It wasn't that she couldn't attend, she supposed. Indeed, she'd probably be doing them a favour by attending, given her standing in the Wizarding World. Harry Potter's advisor and companion, Ron Weasley's widow (didn't count, really, as they'd only been married a few days before the hex finally finished him), the heroine of the second war. It was just that she never had, and she found parties so boring.
"You should go," Harry said, studying the invitation she'd carelessly left on the library table. It was from the fundraising committee; the Cavalier Ball raised money yearly for orphans or widows of aurors or something.
"Why bother? It's boring."
"You'd get to wear a pretty dress."
Hermione glanced sidelong at him. "Harry, do you want to help me pick out a pretty dress?"
Harry blushed. "I don't want to wear one, if that's what you're implying."
"No, but you have the secret gay desire to dress me up, don't you. Don't deny it," she teased.
"I just think you'd have fun," Harry answered stiffly.
"All right, I'll make you a deal. You can pick out a pretty dress for me to wear if you dress up too," she said.
"I'm not going to some ball!"
"Harry, you've been practically a recluse for months. You have to come out of the house sometime. And then maybe later out of the closet, too," she said gently.
"I don't have to," Harry sulked. Hermione batted her eyelashes at him.
"Just think of all the pretty dresses we'd have to look at," she said. "And you could go as Louis the fourteenth. All gold and white, with lots of sparkles..."
The sparkles were too much for Harry. He caved.
***
"Good lord," said Marcellus Dolohov, sipping a goblet of wine. "Look at Queen Potter."
Viktor turned his head from his vapid, boring date and followed Marcellus' gaze. It was unmistakeably Harry Potter and Hermione Granger who were walking into the ballroom; the scar was livid on Harry's powdered face, and no amount of sleeking potion could hide Hermione's beautiful chestnut hair. He caught his breath.
"Is that the Granger girl you were pen friends with?" Marcellus continued.
"I, um, I think so," Viktor answered, swallowing hastily.
"Cleans up all right."
"Shut your mouth, Dolohov."
"Oho!" Marcellus grinned at Viktor. He offered his elbow to Viktor's date. "Come on, gorgeous, you won't even register for the rest of the night."
"Huh?" the girl asked.
"You're my date now," Marcellus said.
"Oh," the girl replied, calmly accepting his arm. Marcellus gave Viktor a shove.
He nearly stumbled into Hermione, who tugged her wide golden dress out of the way before he could step on it.
"Watch it, klutz -- " Potter started to say, then checked himself. "Hey -- Krum, is that you?"
"Harry," Viktor said, doffing his cavalier's hat. The big white feather waved annoyingly.
"You look great! Hermione, it's Viktor!"
"Yes," Hermione said, and her smile was...inexplicable. "I see. Good evening, Mr. Krum."
Viktor grinned back. "How do you do, Hermione."
Hermione laughed. "Your English has improved!"
"I've vorked hard on it. Evening, Harry."
Harry put out his hand and Viktor shook it. He noticed, as he did so, that Harry's eyes darted up and down his body. Perhaps his costume wasn't quite as flashy as Harry's, and it was a stupid English getup that he didn't comprehend the point of, but the warm appraisal in Harry's glance was...oddly intriguing.
"Are you here together?" he asked, and heard his own voice put a peculiar spin on the final word.
"More or less," Harry replied. "Hermione's allowing me to escort her."
"Ah, I see. And vould the king allow Hermione a dance vith a cavalier?"
Harry graciously handed Hermione over to Viktor, who kissed her fingertips. As they passed Harry, he felt a hand graze his thigh.
"Rather less than more, eh?" he said in Harry's ear.
"Hurt Hermione and I'll break your legs," Harry replied pleasantly.
***
"There's an awful lot of buckles on zis," Viktor complained, trying to unsling his fake sword and take his fake cavalier's hat off at the same time.
"Tell me about it," Harry said into his neck, unbuckling his belt from behind. Viktor's hands fumbled with the laces on Hermione's dress.
"I'd like to," Viktor growled, and Harry slid his trousers off, stroking a hand across his groin. Hermione snickered, though it was cut off in the middle by a gasp as Viktor got her corset loose and flung it aside.
"Sure you're up for this?" Harry asked. Viktor felt him trying to struggle out of his costume.
"He's definitely up," Hermione said. She bit Viktor's earlobe.
"I was delicately asking if he's ever been buggered before, thanks Hermione," Harry grunted. "Oh, sod this," he added, and banished his clothing entirely.
"Nice of you to think of us," Hermione complained. Viktor grinned and muttered in Bulgarian. Hermione squeaked as the cold air hit her -- everywhere.
"Well, have you?" Harry whispered in Viktor's ear.
"I'm sure you're an excellent tutor," Viktor replied, as Hermione tightened her thighs around his waist and threw her head back. Harry chuckled.
"Never let it be said the king was unkind to his cavaliers," he murmured, and Viktor suddenly saw stars.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Notes: Gen, PG for a little gore. Snape-centric. Inspired by my Random Wiki Link.
Warnings: None.
First Posted 2/28/07
Available at AO3.
***
"What will you do now?"
Harry Potter leaned in the doorway of the little bedroom at Twelve Grimmauld Place, watching as Severus packed the few personal items the room held into a carton. His eyes, keen as ever, followed Snape's hands as they cradled the objects gently, wrapping some in tissue to protect them.
Snape didn't look up.
"Absolved of all guilt, hailed as a hero, defended as a spy for our side...dream come true for you, isn't it?" Harry asked, trying another tactic. Talking to Snape was like dentistry; you had to keep poking until you got a reaction. He tried not to sound bitter.
"I am not absolved. Absolution requires forgiveness. I am merely found not-guilty by society," Snape retorted, casting a quick cleaning charm across the dusty windows.
"Whose forgiveness?"
Snape gave him a sardonic look. Harry narrowed his eyes.
"You didn't answer my question," he repeated. Snape began packing the books in the shelves, a much larger task. "Now that the war is over, what will you do?"
"That is none of your concern."
"It's the concern of wizardkind. You're one of us now. At least in their eyes."
"But not in yours."
"You never wanted to be. You'd be insulted at the implication."
Severus stopped packing, both hands still in the carton, holding a book.
"This will go to Spinner's End," he said. "All of this. Then you may burn the place down or blow it up, it doesn't matter to me."
"That's what I'm going to do, not what you're going to do."
"Damn it, you foul little excretion, will you not leave me in peace!"
There was a knock on the doorframe, and Remus Lupin leaned around the edge, looming a little over Harry.
"Are we shouting at each other?" he asked mildly.
"Your turn to try," Harry sighed, and ducked under Remus' arm to escape. The two men, on more equal footing than Severus and Harry ever could be, exchanged a resigned look. Remus stepped into the room and pulled the door shut behind him.
"You should tell someone, at least, so that we know where to reach you," he said. His tone was gentle and noncommittal, but his eyes betrayed a certain level of curiousity.
"Why?"
"Because, Severus, like it or not, there are those who care about you."
"Don't condescend."
"I'm not," Remus said. "You're a horrible bastard and you've screwed me at least twice in this lifetime, but I've gotten rather used to you. And there's always the next life to get you back for it."
Severus sat on the bed, another book in his hands. Remus shoved his own hands in his pockets, waiting patiently.
"Brewery and concoction are what I teach, what I excel at," he begain slowly. "They are not what I am passionate about, except in the sense that one must be passionate to be properly precise."
"All right."
"You'll laugh at me."
"Shan't," Remus said, but he was already smiling. "Severus, are you confessing that you have a hobby? Oh, do tell me you're a kite-maker or an oil painter or something."
"Nothing so puerile."
"What, then? Are you running off to Africa to study Masai dance rituals?"
The mental image of himself in a Masai robe, a rope of shells and beads around his neck, made even Severus' lips twitch.
"I'm going to America," he said.
"Amerindian dance rituals, then."
"No." Severus offered Remus the book in his hands. Remus studied the title.
"Dark Chicago: A History of True Crime in the Windy City," he read aloud. "So?"
"Well, you know how people are always going on about unsolved mysteries." Snape gestured airily at the book.
"You're going to Chicago."
"Yes."
"To solve some unsolved mysteries."
"To investigate," Snape corrected.
"Why...Severus, why Chicago? London wasn't good enough for you? Jack the Ripper?"
"I want a change of scenery," Snape insisted, as Remus hid his smile behind one hand.
"Well, Chicago will certainly be that."
"You've really no idea, it's very interesting," Snape said.
"I'm certain."
"There was a butcher who turned his wife into sausages."
"Sounds like they solved that one."
"And there's the Grimes sisters, they were murdered in nineteen-fifty-six."
"Gruesome."
"Quite."
Remus handed the book back to him. "I suppose it makes sense, really. Wizards have all kinds of tools that Muggles haven't got for solving this kind of case. Talking to ghosts, for one thing."
"Precisely."
"And it's quite appropriate that you would wish to set things right."
Snape looked up sharply at him. "What?"
Remus tilted his head. "Well, that's why you're going there, isn't it? to set things right?"
"I -- " Snape paused. "Why would you think that?"
"Severus." Remus sat on the bed, far enough away that Severus would not withdraw in distaste. "You must admit you've made a few cock-ups. And, all right, there have been a few made at your expense. Solving the unsolved, setting the world back in order...makes perfect sense to me, anyway. Your life's a little tip-tilted. All that guilt..."
They were silent for a while. Finally, Remus grinned, then laughed to himself.
"What is so amusing?"
"I was just picturing you riding the subway, wrapped up in one of those huge mufflers and a balaclava to keep your enormous nose warm..."
Title: King and Cavalier
Fandom: Harry Potter
Notes: Harry/Hermione/Viktor, R for sex. Inspired by a challenge ("Choose from the words: Ron, Viktor, Narcissa, knife, cavalier, body heat, young").
Warnings: None.
Available at AO3.
***
The Cavalier Ball was supposed to be the highlight of the year's social calendar, which was why Hermione Granger held out no hope at all of attending.
It wasn't that she couldn't attend, she supposed. Indeed, she'd probably be doing them a favour by attending, given her standing in the Wizarding World. Harry Potter's advisor and companion, Ron Weasley's widow (didn't count, really, as they'd only been married a few days before the hex finally finished him), the heroine of the second war. It was just that she never had, and she found parties so boring.
"You should go," Harry said, studying the invitation she'd carelessly left on the library table. It was from the fundraising committee; the Cavalier Ball raised money yearly for orphans or widows of aurors or something.
"Why bother? It's boring."
"You'd get to wear a pretty dress."
Hermione glanced sidelong at him. "Harry, do you want to help me pick out a pretty dress?"
Harry blushed. "I don't want to wear one, if that's what you're implying."
"No, but you have the secret gay desire to dress me up, don't you. Don't deny it," she teased.
"I just think you'd have fun," Harry answered stiffly.
"All right, I'll make you a deal. You can pick out a pretty dress for me to wear if you dress up too," she said.
"I'm not going to some ball!"
"Harry, you've been practically a recluse for months. You have to come out of the house sometime. And then maybe later out of the closet, too," she said gently.
"I don't have to," Harry sulked. Hermione batted her eyelashes at him.
"Just think of all the pretty dresses we'd have to look at," she said. "And you could go as Louis the fourteenth. All gold and white, with lots of sparkles..."
The sparkles were too much for Harry. He caved.
***
"Good lord," said Marcellus Dolohov, sipping a goblet of wine. "Look at Queen Potter."
Viktor turned his head from his vapid, boring date and followed Marcellus' gaze. It was unmistakeably Harry Potter and Hermione Granger who were walking into the ballroom; the scar was livid on Harry's powdered face, and no amount of sleeking potion could hide Hermione's beautiful chestnut hair. He caught his breath.
"Is that the Granger girl you were pen friends with?" Marcellus continued.
"I, um, I think so," Viktor answered, swallowing hastily.
"Cleans up all right."
"Shut your mouth, Dolohov."
"Oho!" Marcellus grinned at Viktor. He offered his elbow to Viktor's date. "Come on, gorgeous, you won't even register for the rest of the night."
"Huh?" the girl asked.
"You're my date now," Marcellus said.
"Oh," the girl replied, calmly accepting his arm. Marcellus gave Viktor a shove.
He nearly stumbled into Hermione, who tugged her wide golden dress out of the way before he could step on it.
"Watch it, klutz -- " Potter started to say, then checked himself. "Hey -- Krum, is that you?"
"Harry," Viktor said, doffing his cavalier's hat. The big white feather waved annoyingly.
"You look great! Hermione, it's Viktor!"
"Yes," Hermione said, and her smile was...inexplicable. "I see. Good evening, Mr. Krum."
Viktor grinned back. "How do you do, Hermione."
Hermione laughed. "Your English has improved!"
"I've vorked hard on it. Evening, Harry."
Harry put out his hand and Viktor shook it. He noticed, as he did so, that Harry's eyes darted up and down his body. Perhaps his costume wasn't quite as flashy as Harry's, and it was a stupid English getup that he didn't comprehend the point of, but the warm appraisal in Harry's glance was...oddly intriguing.
"Are you here together?" he asked, and heard his own voice put a peculiar spin on the final word.
"More or less," Harry replied. "Hermione's allowing me to escort her."
"Ah, I see. And vould the king allow Hermione a dance vith a cavalier?"
Harry graciously handed Hermione over to Viktor, who kissed her fingertips. As they passed Harry, he felt a hand graze his thigh.
"Rather less than more, eh?" he said in Harry's ear.
"Hurt Hermione and I'll break your legs," Harry replied pleasantly.
***
"There's an awful lot of buckles on zis," Viktor complained, trying to unsling his fake sword and take his fake cavalier's hat off at the same time.
"Tell me about it," Harry said into his neck, unbuckling his belt from behind. Viktor's hands fumbled with the laces on Hermione's dress.
"I'd like to," Viktor growled, and Harry slid his trousers off, stroking a hand across his groin. Hermione snickered, though it was cut off in the middle by a gasp as Viktor got her corset loose and flung it aside.
"Sure you're up for this?" Harry asked. Viktor felt him trying to struggle out of his costume.
"He's definitely up," Hermione said. She bit Viktor's earlobe.
"I was delicately asking if he's ever been buggered before, thanks Hermione," Harry grunted. "Oh, sod this," he added, and banished his clothing entirely.
"Nice of you to think of us," Hermione complained. Viktor grinned and muttered in Bulgarian. Hermione squeaked as the cold air hit her -- everywhere.
"Well, have you?" Harry whispered in Viktor's ear.
"I'm sure you're an excellent tutor," Viktor replied, as Hermione tightened her thighs around his waist and threw her head back. Harry chuckled.
"Never let it be said the king was unkind to his cavaliers," he murmured, and Viktor suddenly saw stars.
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*sporfles*
I think I just cricked my shoulder - again - but I'll forgive you ebcause belly-laughs like this one are few and far between!
Thank you for writing these :-)
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If you don't know, it's okay. I'm just curious. :)
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As is typical, it's an old Boy Scout song. They're the only national organization nowadays that lets kids get away with singing these sort of things.
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Great song tho. :D
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*snerk* This one was funny. I cracked up when Remus explained why he was laughing -- the picture of Snape bundled up so much that only his nose is showing was just too much.
King and Cavalier:
*fans self* Whew! The endng of this was hotter than hot, Sam! And that bit about Harry giving in because of the sparkles -- oh, goddess, that was just hilarious.
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Primarily by:
Harry and sparkles
Three Musketeers references
Easy date transference
Harry and casual threats of violence
I love Snape as unsolved murder man...I wonder if he will meet up with Harry Dresden? I would love to see that...and to watch him face the White Council...
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My God, that might actually work! I'd never considered that particular cross-over. I can almost see Morgan or Merlin or someone superciliously telling him: "We do things differently in America..." *
* (except, of course, that the council is supposed to be international and the British buffoonery we've seen from HP would never have survived a Red Court onslaught.)
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Also, this
"Damn it, you foul little excretion, will you not leave me in peace!"
amused me greatly for some reason =)
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It's queer eye for the straight witch, Harry!
Even in the gayest of gaydoms bottomiest of bottoms Harrys I've read throughout the fandom, I don't think anyone has ever made him a fashionista...
*snickers quietly in the corner*
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True Crime, King And Cavalier
Snape's mufflered nose and Harry being drawn in by sparkles--awesome.
Really has nothing to do with anything, but its a thought...
Re: Really has nothing to do with anything, but its a thought...
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I like the idea of that sort of post-war dynamic between them.
And Harry/Hermione/Viktor is a wonderful idea. Especially Harry as Luois XIV, because it's really not him (except for the sparkles and brocade).