[ficlet] The Mantis at Prayer
Jan. 7th, 2010 01:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
babygrayA Harry Potter ficlet...
Title: The Mantis at Prayer
Author:![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
babygray
Pairing: Snape/Harry, Implied Snape/Lily, Harry/Ginny
Warnings: AU (Snape lives) Typos. No beta.
Disclaimer: This is just fanfiction, non-profit and just for fun.
Notes: I was watching 'Jersey Shore' earlier today (yes, yes, it's an atrocious show), and something one of the characters said got stuck in my head. ... Which led to this.
Word Count: 518
Summary: A graveyard in January.
The night was cold and it was beginning to rain. He was going to catch his death of cold.
He had brought flowers tonight, resting them on the hard ground before her gravestone. He had wanted to bring lilies and orchids, blue roses and daffodils, but the most he could afford was a bouquet of the dying dregs of the day, and a small cluster at that. His fingers lingered on a petal before pulling himself back up. It was the thought that counts.
"Happy birthday," he said to the gravestone. It was rough and unyielding to his touch.
"Good evening, Snape," a man said behind him, solemn and clear.
He did not turn around. "Potter," he said.
"You're not supposed to be here," Potter said.
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Planning to arrest me?"
"I should," Potter said. From the corner of his eye, he could just make out the red of Potter's robes as the other man moved to stand beside him. "You're technically in exile."
"I'll be out of the country by morning," he said. The wind began to pick up. He tugged the hood of his cloak down The rain was freezing to the touch.
Potter went down on one knee and placed a hand on his mother's grave. He said nothing for a moment before turning to leave.
"Don't go," Potter said. He was staring at the gravestone. He rose and turned to face Snape. "Not yet."
Potter looked older than he remembered. His knee was covered with mud. His eyes peered out from underneath his hood. "You don't look as good as I thought you would."
"What were you expecting?" he said, frowning. He had forgotten how tall Potter was now. Not enough to overshadow him. Just enough to make him raise his eyes to the boy.
"A tan?" Potter said. His hand reached out and touched his cheek. It was warm against his cold skin. "You've lost weight."
Things have been difficult, but he did not say this. "I'm moved by you concer-"
... Potter's mouth was hot and tasted of fresh, clean things. His hand gripped Potter's hood, letting himself get drawn in deeper. Potter's warm hands slipped into his cloak, imprinting heat into the small of his back. He shivered as he pulled away.
"You shouldn't," he said. Potter's breath warmed him.
"I know," he said. His arms wound round Snape's waist. His wet arms chilled him.
His lips were warm. Rain seeped under his collar. He shivered. This time, Potter noticed.
"You're going to catch your death of cold," he said. "Your robes are much too thin for this weather."
He couldn't afford anything thicker, but he did not say that. "I have to go," he said.
"Yeah," Potter said. He pulled away, taking a step back. Snape resisted huddling against the cold. "I have to get going, too."
"Give my regards to the missus," Snape said.
"You know I won't," Harry said as Snape Apparated away.
Title: The Mantis at Prayer
Author:
babygrayPairing: Snape/Harry, Implied Snape/Lily, Harry/Ginny
Warnings: AU (Snape lives) Typos. No beta.
Disclaimer: This is just fanfiction, non-profit and just for fun.
Notes: I was watching 'Jersey Shore' earlier today (yes, yes, it's an atrocious show), and something one of the characters said got stuck in my head. ... Which led to this.
Word Count: 518
Summary: A graveyard in January.
The night was cold and it was beginning to rain. He was going to catch his death of cold.
He had brought flowers tonight, resting them on the hard ground before her gravestone. He had wanted to bring lilies and orchids, blue roses and daffodils, but the most he could afford was a bouquet of the dying dregs of the day, and a small cluster at that. His fingers lingered on a petal before pulling himself back up. It was the thought that counts.
"Happy birthday," he said to the gravestone. It was rough and unyielding to his touch.
"Good evening, Snape," a man said behind him, solemn and clear.
He did not turn around. "Potter," he said.
"You're not supposed to be here," Potter said.
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Planning to arrest me?"
"I should," Potter said. From the corner of his eye, he could just make out the red of Potter's robes as the other man moved to stand beside him. "You're technically in exile."
"I'll be out of the country by morning," he said. The wind began to pick up. He tugged the hood of his cloak down The rain was freezing to the touch.
Potter went down on one knee and placed a hand on his mother's grave. He said nothing for a moment before turning to leave.
"Don't go," Potter said. He was staring at the gravestone. He rose and turned to face Snape. "Not yet."
Potter looked older than he remembered. His knee was covered with mud. His eyes peered out from underneath his hood. "You don't look as good as I thought you would."
"What were you expecting?" he said, frowning. He had forgotten how tall Potter was now. Not enough to overshadow him. Just enough to make him raise his eyes to the boy.
"A tan?" Potter said. His hand reached out and touched his cheek. It was warm against his cold skin. "You've lost weight."
Things have been difficult, but he did not say this. "I'm moved by you concer-"
... Potter's mouth was hot and tasted of fresh, clean things. His hand gripped Potter's hood, letting himself get drawn in deeper. Potter's warm hands slipped into his cloak, imprinting heat into the small of his back. He shivered as he pulled away.
"You shouldn't," he said. Potter's breath warmed him.
"I know," he said. His arms wound round Snape's waist. His wet arms chilled him.
His lips were warm. Rain seeped under his collar. He shivered. This time, Potter noticed.
"You're going to catch your death of cold," he said. "Your robes are much too thin for this weather."
He couldn't afford anything thicker, but he did not say that. "I have to go," he said.
"Yeah," Potter said. He pulled away, taking a step back. Snape resisted huddling against the cold. "I have to get going, too."
"Give my regards to the missus," Snape said.
"You know I won't," Harry said as Snape Apparated away.
