A Series of Fortunate Events | By : ChameleonOT Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 4578 -:- 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 1
Tour of Ministry of Magic
And
St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
All seventh year
students will participate in a
tour of the Ministry
of Magic on Saturday the 20th of June[1]
and St. Mungo’s Hospital
for Magical Maladies and Injuries
on Sunday the 21st of
June.
Students will report
to the entrance hall at
7am on Saturday the
20th of June.
Each student may
bring one bag
as they will be
remaining in London
for the night.
Hogwarts uniform is
to be worn during the tours.
Muggle attire will be
required for the evening.
Any questions
regarding what constitutes appropriate attire
may be directed to
Professor S. Snape, Potions Master.
…
Draco sat lazily in the large over stuffed chair in his father’s
rather plush office. The pout on his face was not working its magic for him.
“Come on father. Just this once. Pleeeeeease.” He pleaded
with the older man.
“Honestly Draco,” the older man sighed. “Can you for once
allow me to work in peace and quite? I can not spend every moment of every day
fixing your petty childish problems.” The blond man slammed a rather large
ledger shut with a flourish.
“Father,” he pleaded again, “this is not petty!” He was
beginning to grow indignant and that would never work to his favor. He needed
to control himself and use his time honored and tested methods for getting what
he wanted.
“Draco Malfoy!” Draco cringed slightly as his father began
to grow irritated with him. “I said no and I meant it! Now you must return to
your school. Severus will not be able to protect you if you are not in your
classes.”
The boy was now clearly frustrated. “Okay father,” he spat the title sitting up
and straitening his elegant robes. “I will be a good little boy and get to
school. Ah school! Such a wonderful
place,” his voice was laced with so much sarcasm that his father was forced to
look up from his papers.
“Draco.” He snarled at the boy.
Draco had already risen from his chair and was crossing to
the fireplace. He sighed heavily as he reached for the floo powder. “So many
mudbloods and Muggle-lovers.” He did not even look back at his father. “The
only class that I am given the grades that I truly deserve is Professor Snape’s
class,” he drawled in a well practiced, put-upon tone of voice. “He knows were
his loyalties lie. He at least would never fall victim to that Muggle-loving
fool of a headmaster.”
“Draco, be careful what you say!” The blond man snapped.
“Dumbledore has eyes and ears in many places.”
“Don’t you think that I know that father?” He snapped back.
“All of the professors are in his pocket! Why do you think that that filthy mudblood and that Potter are always given higher marks than me?”
“Perhaps they study.”
Draco scoffed. “Yea, right! Face it; the professors do it to
keep that Muggle-loving fool happy.” His voice dripped with the disdain that
flashed in his dangerous silver eyes. “His precious Golden Boy and the Mudblood -” he cut his tirade off. “Disgusting!”
Lucius Malfoy eyed his son warily as the boy threw the
powder into the fire and disappeared from the room. He shook his head and went
back to the papers he had been working on.
“Draco,” a deep voice snarled as the blond exited the floo
into a cold room. “I told you that I required you to return promptly by 8pm.”
“Yes sir.” The boy tried to use his most innocent face with
his professor. “I am deeply sorry about that sir. However, my father…”
“Mr. Malfoy, your father
understands the importance of my attendance at these staff meetings,” the potions master snapped. “Now return to your
common room.” The boy did not move. “Now!”
...
“Ah, Severus,” the far too friendly voice chimed at him as
he entered the staff room. There you are. We were wondering what had kept you.
We are almost done here”
“Headmaster.” He nodded to the older man before him. He did
not even spare a glance for his fellow colleges as he drifted across the room
and slid into a large chair at the side.
“Severus,” the older man began as the Potions Master sat
down. “We have completed the assignments for the month.” The dark haired man
raised a suspicious eyebrow at the twinkling man at the front of the room. “You
will find a parchment at your seat,” Professor McGonagall politely slid it
toward his hand, “that details the assignments that you have been volunteered
for due to your delay.” Snape glared.
“We could not wait for you any longer,” McGonagall began as
Snape unrolled the parchment and began to read it warily, “so we took the
liberty of…”
“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS!” The normally calm potions master was
in a towering rage. Several Order members fled the room by slipping quietly out
the door. Soft chuckles echoed in their wake.
…
The tall black cloaked figure swept down the corridor with a
smirking witch trailing behind him. He
stopped abruptly and spun on her.
“I can not believe that I get stuck babysitting that brat,” he snarled at her.
“Severus,” she admonished him with a gleam in her eyes. “If
you were so concerned about the assignment you would get, you should have been
on time.” The woman chuckled softly to herself. Best not poke a grumpy potions
master.
Snape glared at her. “You know very well,” he was now up to
hissing (boy was he mad), “that I was held up on important Order business.” His voice fell so low that even the walls trembled
slightly.
I was wrong, McGonagall
thought to herself. The man is not mad;
the man is livid.
“Ah yes.” The older woman waved his complaints away with an
air of superiority. “The life of a spy. So much to do, so little time.” A wry
smile twisted her normally stern face.
The younger man sneered at her. He knew that she was trying
to get a rise out of him. “I also have other obligations.” He tried to regain himself. “I can not believe that
the Headmaster imagined that this
would be a good idea.”
“Severus,” her tone became very serious, “you know that you
are the only one that Albus would entrust with the boy’s safety like this.” She
gripped his arm and stared into his eyes, holding his gaze. “You are the only
choice.”
After a moment he glanced away from her. “Albus would not
have to worry so much if he would teach the boy responsibility and obedience.”
He said with a hint of petulance in his voice. However, his sternness returned
quickly. “The boy has an absolute disregard for the rules!”
Minerva smiled fondly. “He does have a habit of breaking the
rules doesn’t he?” Just like his father.
Snape snarled at her. “Quite.”
…
The next day seventh year potions was – well let’s face it –
hell. After all was said and done, all of the houses had lost points (the Hufflepuffs
for simply daring to exist) and most of the students had detentions.
“I don’t have time for this,” Hermione hissed softly to
Harry and Ron as they trudged away from the potions classroom and on to their
next class. “I have three, count them! Three! Essays to write before Friday! I have not even begun to
write the one for arithmency. Oh, what am I going to do?” Her ranting continued
as they walked.
“Don’t worry Mione,” Ron nudged his friend, “Harry and I’ll
be glad to help you.”
Hermione spun on the both of them glaring. “I think that the
two of you,” she poked Ron harshly in the chest, emphasizing her words. “Have done more then enough for me! Really
Ron! You couldn’t keep your mouth shut for just five more minutes?” With that
she spun and stomped off down the corridor.
“But he was being a real arse today!” He called after her. He
glanced at Harry who was shaking his head in sympathy. “A lot more than usual
too,” he said with a defeated tone.
The two boys slowly made their way to their next class. They
were not looking forward to the detentions they would each have to serve
tonight. Certainly Filch would have something utterly vile for them to do.
…
It was Saturday. The
Saturday. Severus Snape, Potions Master, Head of Slytherin House of Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, former Death Eater, Order of the Phoenix
member and spy, all around grumpy bastard, stood staring morosely at the dunderheads
lulling around before him. Why in the seven hells did he ever allow himself to
get assigned to this horrendous task? Babysitting whiny, simpering, spoiled,
seventh year brats at another one of Albus’s “great ideas” (sarcasm dripping to
the extreme).
Oh that’s right.
He did not allow himself to be
assigned this task. Albus asked, but
it was more like an order. No one ever told
the old man no. Oh, not that Severus had not tried. He had been trying
since he was quite young. The old man just seemed to radiate a power that did
not leave room for arguing and disobedience. At least, not in most. Potter was
the one irritating exception. That boy never bothered to listen or follow even
the simplest instructions or rules. In fact, Snape was certain that the brat
was most likely into something that he had no business into at this very
moment. Severus had simply not caught him yet.
…
The day at the Ministry was arduous and seemed to some -
interminable. But it was eventually over with. And thankfully, (or regretfully
depending all on how you look at it) no one had died during the experience.
But now evening was upon the little group and the need for
relaxation and sleep was of a priority. Thinking of nothing but the safety of
those placed in their charge, the Hogwarts's staff had selected a very nice
hotel in an upscale section of London.
Order members and Aurors alike were on guard. Wards, charms and all manner of
protective spells were in place. The magic danced along the skin of the Potions
Master as he exited the Muggle bus that they were using to transport the
miscreatens as he so fondly loved to call them.
Severus Snape glanced around him looking for the tell tale
signs of Order members trying to stay incognito. To Snape they stood out as
plainly as dragons in the middle of a Quidditch pitch during the Quidditch Cup Final.
And the Muggles were as likely to notice them as the idiots that frequented Quidditch
games would. That is to say, they could wear a giant sign tattooed and blinking
on their foreheads that read…
I’m an Auror! Hear me
whine!
And not one Muggle would ever notice.
Snape glared up at the six story building. Damn you Headmaster. Another one of your ‘lets
all learn to get along’ little ideas. One of these days…
…
Harry Potter stood outside the door to the loo of the
Gryffindor girls’ room fidgeting. “Um,” he glanced around at the others in the
room. They did not seem to be paying any attention to him. The Gryffindor girl
that came for him now seemed to be more interested in what Blaise Zabini was
whispering in her ear. “Hermione.” He whispered through the door. “It’s me
Harry.”
“Oh, Harry thanks goodness.” He could hear the desperation
in her voice. “I need a favor. A very big favor.”
“Um, okay.” He was getting worried about his friend. He
shuffled from one foot to the other. “Open the door. I can barely hear you.” He
whispered at her again. He did not want to draw to much attention to himself.
He was uncomfortable as it was being in
the girl’s room.
“No. Harry,” she said softly through the door. “I need you
to go downstairs and get something for me.”
Harry’s faced paled considerably as he listened to the
pleaded request. “Why…,” he swallowed and shifted nervously. “Why didn’t you
ask Ron to go for you?”
Hermione let out a soft squeak. “Harry! I could never do
that. Besides he doesn’t know what a vending machine is much less how to use
one.”
She had a point. As much as he knew Ron loved Hermione, this
little errand would kill him. Give me a
full grown mountain troll any day, Harry thought to himself. Just not this. Harry nodded even though
she could not hear him through the door.
“And I don’t have time to explain to him what it is I need
him to get. I need you to hurry. Please Harry. I am desperate.” Her voice
pleaded softly with him from behind the door.
“Didn’t you bring any with you?” He blushed even though he
did not think that anyone else in the room was paying attention to their
conversation.
He could hear her snarl even with a solid door between them.
“I’m sorry!” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “I would not
have forgotten if I had not been so
busy with essays and detentions.”
Harry blanched at the venomous word. He knew that her
detentions were mostly his (and Ron’s) fault.
“Okay Hermione. Wait here. I’ll hurry back.”
She sounded exasperated. “Exactly were do you expect me to
go in this condition?”
Harry, thankfully, had not heard those last words. He was
busy rushing from the room and off down the hall. He had to get to the lobby
and get back before curfew.
…
Blaise Zabini was not known for his good looks. He was never
considered the smartest wizard in his year or house. He was not even recognized
for his cunning or courage. In fact, no one ever truly paid much mind to him -
at all. That is why he was well known to his Head of House. He was so
completely overlooked so often, that he was the perfect mole. A set of eyes in
places where even a trained spy would never make it.
Zabini brushed the soft pale hand from his shoulder as he
slid from the Gryffindor girls’ room. “Just give me a minute love.” He cooed sweetly
to her. “I have to get something from my
room.” The girl giggled “I’ll be right back.” He smiled, planted one last kiss
on her cheek and slithered off down the hall to locate his Head of House.
…
Snape had finally managed to crawl into his bed. His wand
perched safely on the night stand next to him. He had, he glanced up at the
clock looming ominously on the wall, exactly thirty minutes until it was time
to force the little brats into their beds. He would have enough time to enjoy a
little respite and reading before his shift patrolling the delinquents. He was
beyond exhausted. Preparing for this little adventure
had left him without sleep for more than two days. He swirled the dark colored
liquid in the tumbler again. The aromatic scent wafted up to tickle his nose
and tantalize his taste buds. Ah, nothing like a great brandy to…
A harsh rap at his door brought him out of his reverie. Damn it to hell! What now!
“This had better be bloody good!” He snapped as he wrapped
his robe around himself and stomped to the door of his suite.
He stood listening to the tale that rolled from Zabini’s lips
his head leaning against the cool door jam.
Potter has snuck off down to the lobby. He went to go buy
something for the mudblood Granger.
…
Harry Potter fidgeted as he waited for the lift to come to a
complete halt and the door to slide open. He knew that if he was caught, well
he did not even want to think what would happen.
Snape would not care what it was the he had come down here
for. It would not matter to the evil git. Harry’s mind supplied a little extra sexy to the mix without his permission.
In fact, Harry mused, he would probably use it as great
fodder in his classes the rest of his career as a professor. The Boy Who Lived’s
greatest quest. His shining moment. His terrifying and dangerous mission. He
was sent to purchase Muggle feminine hygiene supplies from a Muggle vending
machine in the middle of the bloody night for a girl that wasn’t even his
girlfriend. Bloody hell! He cringed
to himself. Better not let the Slytherins
get a hold of this one.
…
Severus Snape was more than irritated now. That idiot Gryffindor! Once again, with every one in the Ministry
trying to protect him. Half the Order slumming in the dark around a hotel in London and the boy still
had the audacity to wander around when he should be sitting safe in his room.
Someone needs to take that boy in hand! He must learn restraint, respect and vigilance!
Oh, save me from the seventh hell! I just nearly quoted that bastard Moody!
…
TBC
[1] Dates
used are actual calendar dates corresponding to the year 1998.
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