A Series of Fortunate Events | By : ChameleonOT Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 4579 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Author’s WARNING:
Slash - Drug usage – MINOR putting the moves on an adult
If you do not like
any of this, please find something else to read. Don’t come crying to me later
– YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Title:
A Series of Fortunate Events
Rating: R (I’m a parent, I lean toward caution.)
Pairing: HP/SS
Disclaimer: JKR and some
guys in suits own everything. I just borrow out of love and devotion.
Summary:
Quick snapshots of time that lead from one fortunate event to another. Each
event creates the framework for the next. (Special thanks to those silly
Hewlett-Packard photo commercials for this odd idea.)
Feedback:
Loved and appreciated. chameleonot@yahoo.com
Beta: The magnificent Alter (AKA: Akalterego). Her works can be found
at fanfiction.com (http://www.fanfiction.net'akalterego).
Archive:
Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyindex.htm
Challenge: No man is an island
A Series of Fortunate
Events
Part 3
…
“Ms. Granger.” Hermione Granger jumped and yelped as a
gnarled and rough hand tightened around her arm. “Have you seen Mr. Potter?”
Hermione spun to look directly in the rotating eye of one Alastor
Moody. “No sir.” She trembled slightly and seemed out of breath.
“What happened up there?” He snarled at her.
“Fire…” she could barely breathe. She had been running and
trying to locate her to friends. “There is a… fire on the floor.” She took a
deep breath as he glared down at her. “In a closet I think.”
Moody growled and swirled to bark orders at several others
standing nearby.
“Find the boy! This could be a trap!”
Hermione watched stunned as several Order members she
recognized and several others she did not disappeared into the commotion of
students and other hotel guests. I guess
no one told them to have a fire plan, her mind supplied as she watched the
chaos around her.
She spotted Ron and several other students nearby.
…
He swayed in the spot where he stood. “We are going to die
in here.” His eyes took on a glassy look. Snape recognized that look. It was
the onset of shock.
“No Harry.” He cringed at using the child’s given name. “We
are going to be fine. They will get to us shortly.” He tried to maintain a calm
soothing voice. But Snape does not do calm and soothing. Harry didn’t look convinced. He continued to
sway to and fro. “We just have to hold on.”
He stepped toward the boy and gripped his arm tightly. The
dark haired boy looked as though he would fall over at any moment. “Harry, sit
down.” He tried nicely again. “We need to sit down.” Snape felt his eyes begin
to burn a bit. So it has made it to us,
he thought savagely.
The smoke that until now could only be smelled was now
beginning to fill the elevator with the more toxic fumes associated with a
fire. There was not much time left for something to happen.
“Harry sit,” he hissed as he dragged the boy to the floor.
Harry fell ungracefully to the floor. He let out an umph as he hit the floor with an elbow. He snapped his head up and
began to rub his abused arm.
“Hey! Watch it!” The dark haired boy snapped.
“Harry listen closely to what I am going to tell you.” The Potions
Master leaned in with a deeply serious look on his face. Harry continued to rub
his elbow as he glared at the professor on the floor next to him. Snape was
glad to see that the pain of hitting his arm had jolted him out of his shock a
bit.
“Harry,” he began with a little more force but much less
malice. “We have to stay well below the smoke.” He gestured up. Harry tilted
his head up, eyes going wide as he saw the dark air that was now billowing in
through the small trap door in the ceiling.
“We can not get out through there now,” Snape informed him
coldly. “We can not get the door to open.” Harry looked back into the cold dark
eyes of his Potions Master. “We have to sit here calmly and wait.”
We can’t just sit here
and wait, Harry was fuming. Never in his life had he ever just sat and
waited for bad things to happen to him. He fought!
“Mr. Potter,” Snape snapped trying to regain control that he
felt he was loosing over the boy, “we have no other choice. Unless,” he
sneered, “you have some grand scheme to get us out of this Muggle death trap
with out getting us killed in the process.”
“Just Apparate out Harry hissed at him.” He was losing his
patience. This idiot was not going to sit here and die with him.
Snape narrowed his eyes, “I have already explained Mr.
Potter,” he spat, “that I do not have my wand and without my wand I am helpless
to get us out of here. Damn Muggle contraptions,” he snapped.
“I don’t believe you!” Harry was now yelling at him. “You
would NEVER leave your wand!”
“Mr. Potter,” he hissed, “I have not had sleep for two days.
Do you truly wish to continue on in this…”
“You are a very powerful wizard!” Harry ranted. “Why can’t
you just apparate out of here and be done with it? If you are so damned worried
about me,” he laid heavy on the word,
“then go get your wand and come back for me. Even Hermione knows charms that
put out fires or produce water! Surely, if a teenaged mudblood can…”
“Potter!” Snape looked truly livid. “I strongly suggest that
you get a hold on yourself. I do not intend to sit here and listen to one of my
students speak in this manner to a Hogwarts Professor.”
“Well then Professor,”
the word dripped of anger and disgust, “do your job,” he snarled leaning into the face of the other man, “and get
us the hell out of here!”
Snape glared but did not respond immediately. “I would if I
could.” Was all he said when he finally spoke. He turned and refused to look at
the insolent Gryffindor.
…
“Ron! Where’s Harry?” Hermione was terrified now. She had
not been able to find her friend in all the commotion.
“He went-” Ron's eyes grew large. “He went to see you.”
Hermione’s face paled. “We have to find him.” With that the
two Gryffindors began searching the grounds and accosting every person they
found.
News traveled fast. Harry Potter was missing and rumor had
it that he was locked in the burning building at this very moment with no hope
of getting out.
…
It is a well documented fact that extreme fear, lack of
oxygen and teenage hormones can produce very explosive if not interesting
results.
Some individuals cry out to their God in the moment they
face death. Others plead for their mother. Then there are those that decide to
not waste the last seconds they have on this earth. If their life is going to
flash before their eyes, then they are going to ensure that it is one hell of a
good flick…
If I’m going to die …
That was the last thought one Harry Potter had before he
dove at the startled older man. He planted soft youthful lips onto full,
heavenly warm ones. He moaned deeply into the mouth he was plundering. The lips
started to move. He whispered softly into the mouth, “I love you Severus
Snape.”
Strong hands came up to grasp Quidditch muscled shoulders. Finally! Harry’s mind spun into his
fantasy world. He moaned louder as the lips began to move.
“Potter if you do not get off of me this instant – I will
hex you so that your grandchildren will never manage to …”
Harry never heard the end of the threat. He was to busy
catching himself and complaining loudly as he found himself unceremoniously
propelled across the small elevator. He squeaked in protest as his bum felt the
carpet burn through his pajamas as he slid into the wall.
“Potter if you ever - ” the angry man was cut off by the
sound of a large metal door sliding shut and a loud vomiting sound from the
other side of it.
Harry leapt to his feet. “Ron!” He pounded on the door. “Hermione!
Is that you?” Silence. “Who’s out there?” Desperation began to fill his voice.
Silence. “Answer me!”
There was nothing but echoing silence.
…
Meanwhile, outside the
hotel…
A red haired boy stumbled from the smoke filled building.
Dark ominous clouds billowed out around him. He lost his balanced and landed
with a thud on the now water soaked grass. His breathing was ragged and
shallow. His eyes were glazed over. A look of horror and feared etched on his
once youthful face.
“Ron! Ron! What’s the matter are you okay?” A brown haired
girl pleaded with him to respond.
“He looks as though he has seen something terrifying.”
“Ron speak to me! Ron! Ronald Weasley speak to me now!”
Ron stared glassy eyed at the bushy haired girl that was
shaking him profusely.
“Granger, it looks like shock.” A claw like hand pulled her
back from her friend. “Kingsley, get him over to the Healer! He needs to be
looked after now!”
Hermione cried as Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded at Moody and
levitated the boy to a Healer waiting nearby.
…
Harry looked sheepish at his professor. “I am sorry about
the -” his cheeks colored and he turned his face down to stare at his feet
instead, “about earlier. I don’t know what came over me.” He clamped his arms
tighter around his knees. His bum was beginning to ache from sitting and it was
already bruised from his little trip across their small cell.
“Don’t allow it to happen again, Potter.” The words did not
contain their usual harness. They seemed almost… sad. But that was just the
wild hormonal desires of a randy teen that heard something as insane as sadness
in the voice of the coldest man on the entire planet.
Harry sighed and lost himself in thoughts of long fingers
and sallow skin as he shifted his gaze to stare aimlessly at the ceiling above
him. His bum was really beginning to hurt. He felt like a cooked chicken. His
lungs were beginning to burn. And, he was randy as hell! This was not his day.
Hell, this was not his year!
Harry sighed again causing an ominous glare from the man
next to him. “What is the matter now Mr. Potter?” The tone was cutting as usual
this time.
The dark haired (ravishingly adorable even as he sweated
like a pig) boy did not even look at his professor. “Just thinking.”
The older man sighed heavenly. “Although I know that I am
going to regret asking this-” there was a definite pause, “what, pray tell, are
you thinking about?” The man shot him a ‘don’t you dare waste my time with incipient
teenage garbage’ look. “I seriously doubt that you are engaging your brain in something
as constructive as figuring a way out of here.”
Harry laughed slightly. “No. Actually I was wondering
something.” The Potions Master raised one leery eyebrow. It seemed like an
invitation.
“I was wondering why you ever…”
Suddenly, there was a banging on the elevator door above
them. “Harry! Harry mate! You in there?” Harry and Snape leapt to their feet.
That was the most magnificent voice either of them had heard in a very long
time.
“Tonks!” Harry yelled. His voice only drowned out slightly
by the calm, yet louder voice of Snape.
“The boy is fine. Please get us out of this death hole!” Snape's
snarl carried even through several feet of reinforced steel doors. “And please
try to make it fast.”
…
The students were all gathered together and safely escorted
back to their school. Plans for the tour of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical
Maladies and Injuries were postponed.
“Bloody damn well better be,” grumbled one rather perturbed Potions
Master at hearing the news.
The staff and students all, but one, returned to their
castle unharmed physically but all changed in some dramatic and not so dramatic
ways. Harry Potter for one was deeply changed by his experience. He could not
get that one little kiss out of his mind. Those
wondrous lips, he thought over and over again as a goofy smile plagued his
boyish features. So soft. Who would have
thought? So warm. Nope, definitely not a vampire. So, well…just wonderful.
Hermione Granger nudged him hard with her elbow. “Harry are
you even listening to me?”
Harry sat up and shook his head. “Oh…sorry ‘Mione’.” He
blushed. If she only knew what had been going through his mind! “What is it?”
“You should have seen him!” She seemed frightened as she
clutched hers arms to herself. “Ron didn’t say a word since he came out of the
building. He just kept staring and shaking his head every so often.”
“Did the Healer say anything more at the hotel about it?”
She shook her head violently. “No they just took him off to St.
Mungo’s.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“Hermione,” he slid over onto the seat next to his dear
friend. “It’ll be okay. People go into shock all the time. They’ll let him rest
up a bit and then Dumbledore will have him back in no time flat.” She looked at
him with pleading eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“Certainly!” He said giving her his most charming smile. “He’ll
be back buggering…um I mean bugging you to death by tomorrow at lunch…latest.”
He said with finality in his voice.
She snuggled close and rested her head on his shoulder for
the rest of the trip back to the school.
…
The entrance hall to the great school shone bright as the
tired students dragged themselves through the large doors.
Each of the houses broke off to go their separate ways to
their own common rooms.
A few whispered goodbyes and last minute kisses were shared.
Severus Snape watched as grumpy as ever.
“None of that here or you’ll know what a stinging hex feels
like across your backside. And five points from…Hufflepuff! And ten from
Ravenclaw for such atrocious bad taste!”
The dark haired Potions Master waited in the entrance as
each of the students entered. He ticked off the names of the miscreants in his
head as they each entered and made their way to their rooms.
Where is that Potter,
he snarled to himself.
Finally, one Harry Potter came bringing up the rear, as
always, along with one Neville Longbottom dragging a very tired Hermione
Granger in his wake.
“Mr. Potter," a malicious voice sneered from a darkened
corner. "A word if you please. Alone.”
Harry let go of his friend’s arm and nodded for them to go
on without him. “Go ahead Neville, take Hermione up. I’ll be along in a minute.”
Neville nodded hesitantly and continued on up the stairs
with Hermione in tow.
Harry hesitantly made his way over to his potions professor.
“Sir?”
“Mr. Potter. I am only going to say this once, so do try and
listen.” Harry nodded as the tall man scowled down at him. “You will not, I
repeat…NOT tell your friends, pets or anyone or anything about what happened in
the lift.” Harry glared at the man. “Do you understand?”
“Perfectly.” Harry hissed at the man. “I wouldn’t bother. No
one would believe me and … why would I?” He clenched and unclenched his fists
as he stared at the dark haired (gorgeous) man in front of him. The moonlight glistened
off the dark locks that shifted in the soft breeze from outside. Harry’s gut
tightened.
The professor nodded once more and turned to sweep off down
the stairs to the Slytherin dungeons. Harry spun on his heals and began to
stomp off in the direction of Gryffindor
Tower
“Oh, and one more thing…” a deep velvety voice came from
behind the teen. He stopped and turned slightly to glare down at the man. The
look on the man’s face seemed slightly feral.
“Potter, if you wish to discuss the events of the past
evening any further. I will be available in my quarters after the end of term feast.” With that he swept from the room like an oversized bat.
Harry stared dreamy eyed after the most gorgeous thing he
had ever set his eyes on. One soot covered, sweaty (his mind was never going to
let go of that), greasier than usual haired, six foot something, Adonis in
black robes. God! This was going to be a great year!
…
“I know what I saw! I know what I heard! I’M NOT CRAZY!” The
shouts echoed through the cold drab halls.
“No one ever said that you were. We just need you to calm
down so we can discuss this rationally.”
“I. KNOW. WHAT. I. SAW!”
“We believe that you know what you thought you saw.” The
gentle voice chided him. “But really, does it sound reasonable to you?”
“I KNOW WHAT I HEARD!”
“Yes. Again. We all believe that you think you heard it. Or
minds are complicated. In moments of great stress -”
“I was not stressed!” This said through clenched teeth.
“Ron, you really need to calm down. I can not help you if
you continue -”
“I don’t want your help! I don’t need your help! I want to
go home!”
“Ron…”
“Stop calling me that!”
“It is your name.”
“NO! My friends call me Ron. You! Are. NOT! My.
Friend.” It was half snarled and half shouted but it contained all the anger
and frustration that he felt.
“All right then. What would you like me to call you?”
“Why don’t you call me by my name?” He snarled.
“Alright.” The man shuffled a few parchments on his lap. “Now,
why don’t we get back to what we were talking about?”
“Maybe, I don’t want to,” he said petulantly. “No one ever
believes me!”
“Why is it that you think no one ever believes you?”
“Well all of you said that it could have never happened. You
all said that I must have imagined it. You all said that I am -”
“Now,” he was slightly stern, “I do not believe that anyone
here has said that you were imagining this. I also do not recall anyone telling
you that you are crazy.” He raised a hand for quiet. “I know that that is what you were about to say. No
one here believes or even thinks that you are crazy.”
“But – you -”
“I have told you over and over again that stress can play havoc
with the mind.” He leaned in toward the boy for emphasis. “You were under a
great deal of stress that night. Your mind decided to give you something else
to think about.” The boy crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. “It
does not mean that you are crazy.” He sighed inwardly. “It does, however, mean
that the events of that night were very stressful and you need to discuss them
with someone.” This was proving to be a hard case.
“I know what I saw.” He would not look back.
“You know what you thought you saw. You know what you
thought you heard. But I am your Healer, you need to believe me if we are going
to make any progress in your treatment.” He tried to look imploring. Win the trust of the patient, his mind
kept supplying to him.
“I don’t need treatment.” The boy sounded tired now.
“Well your family and I all disagree with you.”
“But I saw it! I heard it!” He turned back to the Healer and
leaned forward trying to make someone believe him.
“Mr. Weasley,” the doctors tone was serious, “you can not actually expect anyone to believe that
you could have possibly seen Harry
Potter and Severus Snape kissing.” He took a deep breath. “Or that you would
have ever heard Harry Potter tell Severus Snape that he is in love with him.
You are suffering from acute stress due to the fire and your friend going
missing that night.”
…
A state of intense
emotional excitement—may, under a great variety of special circumstances,
become an erotic symbol and afford the same relief as the emotions normally
accompanying the sexual act.[1]
Experts hold that there is a documented connection between
fear and a heightened state of sexual arousal. There also exists a defined and
well studied link between those individuals that have experienced a traumatic,
frightening or life changing event together and sexual attraction.
At a primal state you will find a direct connection between Love and Fear.
There are some things
you can’t share without ending up …[2]
… finis …
[1] Ellis, Havelock, Studies in the Psychology of Sex, Volume 5,
The Project Gutenberg eBook, 2004 http://www.sakoman.net/pg/html/13614.htm.
[2] Rowling,
J.K., Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s
Stone, First American edition, Scholastic Press, New York, NY,
1998.
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