Harry Potter and the Sorcerer\'s Groan
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
4,365
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
4,365
Reviews:
18
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.
Part 2: The Berries
Part 2: The Berries
S.S. Snape
I have no idea how this happened.
Those damn berries were delicious but they did something to my head (Note To Self: do not make comments such as this when alone in the Canadian wilderness with Potter. I do not have release for such thoughts if you, the Reader, catch my drift) and now I have what Potter calls a ‘hangover’. He finds it very, very amusing. I, however, do not.
Is it possible to wish that you could split your head open? I was, honestly, very close to begging Potter to do just that so that my head would stop pounding and spinning.
Is it also possible to feel as if the very air you breathe makes you vomit? Because I feel that right now…
On another note, I cannot remember anything beyond snatching the notebook from Potter (my reasoning? He was writing too damn much, we have to conserve the space and his thoughts are, honestly, immature and pointless).
As for the comment about Lucius: why is he so bloody interested?
And yes, I am what he so fondly calls a ‘poof’- whatever that means- and am extremely proud of this. To be honest, I am not strictly what you might call a ‘poof’ however, I am usually so.
He called me “heteroflexible” but I believe that I am really “homoflexible.”
Does that even make sense?
Speaking of sense, this child has none. So far this morning, he has caught himself on fire, broken the remaining scraps of a tent down to nothing, and sat in the berries. He looks like he had a bad run-in (or good run-in, however Potter wants to think of it) with aforementioned Malfoy.
Does anyone else notice how him and I have such similar writing styles and handwriting? Well, of course not, we’re alone in the bloody Canadian wilderness, and no one will EVER read this.
Actually, I’m kind of hoping that they don’t.
So I’m not exactly ‘extremely proud’ of being a ‘poof’. To be honest, only… seven people know that I am, five of them being my lovers. Well, former lovers anyway.
I won’t be getting any more ALONE IN THE CANADIAN WILDERNESS WITH POTTER.
Note To Self: do not connect ‘lover’ with ‘Potter.’ This is bad.
Part 2: The Berries
H.J. Potter
I have no idea how this happened.
On a side note: “S.S. Snape”? Is he a boat now? (Note to self: you ride boats. AH!)
Snape took the liberty of correcting my previous entry, the asshole. I did not say that I liked that sort of thing- he crossed it out and wrote “Do, too.”
And he calls me immature. That’s like some second grade shit, man.
Speaking of second grade shit, Snape is thoroughly hung over (all right, all right, second graders don’t usually get drunk and have hangovers, but it sounded okay when I wrote it). I have a pretty high tolerance for alcohol and I ALSO did not pig out on the damn berries- nor did I sit on them, he has no idea what he’s talking about- and, for future reference, I did NOT break the tent. It blew over in the BLOODY CANADIAN WINDS.
The fire, however… well, that’s a different story.
But, on a happier note, Snape looks like he’s going to pass out any second. Hopefully he won’t wake up, because I plan on making the journey back to civilization by myself. If he’s passed out- or, dare I hope it, dead- I can hardly drag his (once again) sorry, soaking (he fell in the lake again) ass with me. He’s bigger than I am, I can’t help that.
Okay, so maybe I could throw him into that lake with a rock tied to his feet, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s done that sort of thing before.
Okay, that came out wrong. In fact, that was ALL wrong from beginning to end. I take it back.
Not.
Goddamn it, Snape says he’s taking the notebook from me because I wrote so much last time. That bloody bastard should just get the hell over himself- who wants to hear his thoughts on this shit anyway?
He tried to take it from me again, but ended up missing both times and grazing my nether regions.
Okay, I have to write this… god forbid he reads it, though I really think that he’s too hung over to care.
Those fingers are nice. I mean, I observed them before while he was writing, and he seems to be made for potion brewing. His fingers are long, slender, strong, and pale. I’m not sure if they’re soft, though I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if they were—
He did it again. Lord help me, he did it again. Now he can have the damn book, I need to… relieve myself in the woods.
Oh, please, god, don’t let him read this. I can’t erase the pen marks.
A/N: All right, that\'s two chapters tonight. Look for more soon! Also, don\'t forget to feed the bunnies!
A/N 2: Jademerald, thanks so much for the sugar quills and lemon drops! This chapter is dedicated to you, our first reviewer. We hope you enjoyed it!
S.S. Snape
I have no idea how this happened.
Those damn berries were delicious but they did something to my head (Note To Self: do not make comments such as this when alone in the Canadian wilderness with Potter. I do not have release for such thoughts if you, the Reader, catch my drift) and now I have what Potter calls a ‘hangover’. He finds it very, very amusing. I, however, do not.
Is it possible to wish that you could split your head open? I was, honestly, very close to begging Potter to do just that so that my head would stop pounding and spinning.
Is it also possible to feel as if the very air you breathe makes you vomit? Because I feel that right now…
On another note, I cannot remember anything beyond snatching the notebook from Potter (my reasoning? He was writing too damn much, we have to conserve the space and his thoughts are, honestly, immature and pointless).
As for the comment about Lucius: why is he so bloody interested?
And yes, I am what he so fondly calls a ‘poof’- whatever that means- and am extremely proud of this. To be honest, I am not strictly what you might call a ‘poof’ however, I am usually so.
He called me “heteroflexible” but I believe that I am really “homoflexible.”
Does that even make sense?
Speaking of sense, this child has none. So far this morning, he has caught himself on fire, broken the remaining scraps of a tent down to nothing, and sat in the berries. He looks like he had a bad run-in (or good run-in, however Potter wants to think of it) with aforementioned Malfoy.
Does anyone else notice how him and I have such similar writing styles and handwriting? Well, of course not, we’re alone in the bloody Canadian wilderness, and no one will EVER read this.
Actually, I’m kind of hoping that they don’t.
So I’m not exactly ‘extremely proud’ of being a ‘poof’. To be honest, only… seven people know that I am, five of them being my lovers. Well, former lovers anyway.
I won’t be getting any more ALONE IN THE CANADIAN WILDERNESS WITH POTTER.
Note To Self: do not connect ‘lover’ with ‘Potter.’ This is bad.
Part 2: The Berries
H.J. Potter
I have no idea how this happened.
On a side note: “S.S. Snape”? Is he a boat now? (Note to self: you ride boats. AH!)
Snape took the liberty of correcting my previous entry, the asshole. I did not say that I liked that sort of thing- he crossed it out and wrote “Do, too.”
And he calls me immature. That’s like some second grade shit, man.
Speaking of second grade shit, Snape is thoroughly hung over (all right, all right, second graders don’t usually get drunk and have hangovers, but it sounded okay when I wrote it). I have a pretty high tolerance for alcohol and I ALSO did not pig out on the damn berries- nor did I sit on them, he has no idea what he’s talking about- and, for future reference, I did NOT break the tent. It blew over in the BLOODY CANADIAN WINDS.
The fire, however… well, that’s a different story.
But, on a happier note, Snape looks like he’s going to pass out any second. Hopefully he won’t wake up, because I plan on making the journey back to civilization by myself. If he’s passed out- or, dare I hope it, dead- I can hardly drag his (once again) sorry, soaking (he fell in the lake again) ass with me. He’s bigger than I am, I can’t help that.
Okay, so maybe I could throw him into that lake with a rock tied to his feet, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s done that sort of thing before.
Okay, that came out wrong. In fact, that was ALL wrong from beginning to end. I take it back.
Not.
Goddamn it, Snape says he’s taking the notebook from me because I wrote so much last time. That bloody bastard should just get the hell over himself- who wants to hear his thoughts on this shit anyway?
He tried to take it from me again, but ended up missing both times and grazing my nether regions.
Okay, I have to write this… god forbid he reads it, though I really think that he’s too hung over to care.
Those fingers are nice. I mean, I observed them before while he was writing, and he seems to be made for potion brewing. His fingers are long, slender, strong, and pale. I’m not sure if they’re soft, though I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if they were—
He did it again. Lord help me, he did it again. Now he can have the damn book, I need to… relieve myself in the woods.
Oh, please, god, don’t let him read this. I can’t erase the pen marks.
A/N: All right, that\'s two chapters tonight. Look for more soon! Also, don\'t forget to feed the bunnies!
A/N 2: Jademerald, thanks so much for the sugar quills and lemon drops! This chapter is dedicated to you, our first reviewer. We hope you enjoyed it!