The Taming of the Snape
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
9,485
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
9,485
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
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.
Fire-whiskey
Having been significantly less than successful with his DIY lobotomy with the book, Snape conjured a bottle of Ogden’s finest fire whiskey, intent on drinking himself into oblivioN. As an after thought he also summoned a glass.
The hangover prevention potions in his bedside drawer would certainly prove their worth later. He poured a few fingers of whiskey and swirled its contents thoughtfully. After the first few sips he reconsidered, and unceremoniously filled up the glass.
Strange really, how with such a nice little more-for-effect-than-actual-warmth fire the room heated up so quickly. Snape attempted to pour another drink only to be thoroughly disgusted by the rate of evaporation.
He summoned another bottle and glared at it as it staggered its way across the room. He raised his glass and toasted his still strangely absent portrait.
He toasted Grumbledork. He toasted Dobby’s bad choice of clothing. He toasted Mcgonna-cat-woman-thingy.
He slid a little further down in his seat with every subsequent toast, until he was mostly sprawled on the hearth rug.
To his own mild amusement he found he had at sometime, somehow, shed most of his clothes.
He slowly peered around the seat at the black heap consisting of his cloak and long button up jacket, his vest and boots, giving it the ‘evil eye’ in case it decided to do something un-snapish. This in his current state of mind was the logical thing to do.
For good measure and mostly just to appease it he toasted the pile as well. A little thought swam around his head, so he toasted that too. **Kissed Him** He toasted ‘Kiss’. He toasted ‘Him’ although what him he was a tad blurry on at the moment
His shirt unbuttoned and parted displayed his chest which, even if he did say so himself, was a very nice view. He ran his fingers appreciatively across his exposed skin. Discovering his nipples he amused himself playing dot to dot for a while until two became an obscure number between one and something else.
He had a mental image of green eyes, so what the hey he toasted them too.
He toasted “Hog-farts”. He toasted “Cravin’ Porn”. He toasted “Slimy-Slather” um “Slither-Slimy” err them. He toasted “Ribs and Pork”. He toasted “Fluff and Stuff”.
He toasted the floor and he toasted the ceiling. He staggered across the ceiling wondering when he had put a rug on it, and with the final dregs in the bottle toasted the successful trip.
He rummaged around in his bedside drawer aware he was looking for something and mentally giggled. With the still stoppered potion in hand he registered mild surprise that he couldn’t remember which end the stopper was.
He was duly sure to tell the room how much he loved it and totally un-Snape like clambered into bed. Head first.
Thus in the morning his portrait returned to see two feet on the pillows.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
(In case you havent worked it out he toasted Hogwarts and the the four houses.) *evil grin*
The hangover prevention potions in his bedside drawer would certainly prove their worth later. He poured a few fingers of whiskey and swirled its contents thoughtfully. After the first few sips he reconsidered, and unceremoniously filled up the glass.
Strange really, how with such a nice little more-for-effect-than-actual-warmth fire the room heated up so quickly. Snape attempted to pour another drink only to be thoroughly disgusted by the rate of evaporation.
He summoned another bottle and glared at it as it staggered its way across the room. He raised his glass and toasted his still strangely absent portrait.
He toasted Grumbledork. He toasted Dobby’s bad choice of clothing. He toasted Mcgonna-cat-woman-thingy.
He slid a little further down in his seat with every subsequent toast, until he was mostly sprawled on the hearth rug.
To his own mild amusement he found he had at sometime, somehow, shed most of his clothes.
He slowly peered around the seat at the black heap consisting of his cloak and long button up jacket, his vest and boots, giving it the ‘evil eye’ in case it decided to do something un-snapish. This in his current state of mind was the logical thing to do.
For good measure and mostly just to appease it he toasted the pile as well. A little thought swam around his head, so he toasted that too. **Kissed Him** He toasted ‘Kiss’. He toasted ‘Him’ although what him he was a tad blurry on at the moment
His shirt unbuttoned and parted displayed his chest which, even if he did say so himself, was a very nice view. He ran his fingers appreciatively across his exposed skin. Discovering his nipples he amused himself playing dot to dot for a while until two became an obscure number between one and something else.
He had a mental image of green eyes, so what the hey he toasted them too.
He toasted “Hog-farts”. He toasted “Cravin’ Porn”. He toasted “Slimy-Slather” um “Slither-Slimy” err them. He toasted “Ribs and Pork”. He toasted “Fluff and Stuff”.
He toasted the floor and he toasted the ceiling. He staggered across the ceiling wondering when he had put a rug on it, and with the final dregs in the bottle toasted the successful trip.
He rummaged around in his bedside drawer aware he was looking for something and mentally giggled. With the still stoppered potion in hand he registered mild surprise that he couldn’t remember which end the stopper was.
He was duly sure to tell the room how much he loved it and totally un-Snape like clambered into bed. Head first.
Thus in the morning his portrait returned to see two feet on the pillows.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
(In case you havent worked it out he toasted Hogwarts and the the four houses.) *evil grin*