100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,653
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,653
Reviews:
52
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.
Winter
Title: Winter
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, MLC?
Warnings: None.
Summary: #61 – Winter. Leaving him to freeze to death would serve the git right.
Word Count: 1, 348 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 61 – Winter
Severus Snape weighed much more than he looked, and his added weight on her back made her arctic books sink deeper into the snow. Hermione Granger did not have time to dig her wand out from under the layers of pelts, arctic coat, and jumper. She could have Levitated him if the need to get indoors were not so urgent.
The snow was coming down in curtains of huge white flakes, and she could barely see where she was going when the wind blew against her face. She wished she had an extra arm to wipe off her tinted goggles, but Hermione was sure that her cabin was near, set into the mountainside in the shelter of majestic pine trees.
Severus Snape was unconscious, dead weight, and underdressed for the sub-zero temperature and wind chill. Hermione was sure that he had not meant to come here, to the Canadian Rockies in the dead of an unusually frigid winter. He had been following her for months as she bounced from one predefined safe house to another, and that day, as she was hiking to see how bad the pass was blocked with snow, he had found her.
It was clear by his reaction to the snow that he had not anticipated the cold. Hermione had yet to find what spell he was using to track her, and was quite annoyed that he had found her, again.
She knew that part of a Stunner hit him, but it was the cold that made him collapse, unconscious. He had fallen face first into the snow and by the time she trudged to him, rolling him over, his thin lips were blue.
Hermione considered leaving him to freeze to death, it would serve the git right.
His boots dragged in the snow behind her as she took one agonizingly slow step after another, finally visually locating the cabin. With a grunt, she dragged him up the icy stairs, using her well-padded bum to push the door open. When she finally had him inside, she slammed the door shut, lifting her goggles from her eyes.
Severus Snape’s face was far too pale, his lips bluish, snow making his long inky hair white and damp as it melted in the warmth of the cabin. She left him on the floor for a moment, shedding her wolverine pelt, a gift from her nearest neighbor ten miles down the mountain, then her arctic coat, hat, goggles, gloves, and finally boots until she stood over Severus Snape in a pair of unattractive Muggle thermal underwear. The exertion of dragging Severus had made her sweat through her ‘long johns’ and slowly she stripped those off as well, placing them over a folding drying rack near the raging fireplace.
Finding her wand in an inner pocket of her coat, where she had left it after placing it there to see to her pursuer, she cast a Levitation Charm on Severus, moving him to the hook rug before the fireplace next to the drying rack. In only her plain white knickers, she studied his face in the firelight.
He was shivering, and she was sure he was suffering from hypothermia.
It would do no good to let him die. She would not be able to bury him properly until the thaw. However, keeping him alive and captive in a remote cabin in the middle of nowhere in the middle of winter was not such a bad idea, as long as the pantry stores held out…
With a flick of her wand, she undressed him, bit by bit, the articles of clothing flying through the air to hang on the drying rack. When she had him down to his boxer shorts, she could see how badly the cold had affected his body. His fingers were red, as were his toes, his hooked nose, and cheeks. Crouching next to him, she let her hand move over his face to his chest.
Warming Charms floated over his skin, but were not as affective as she would have liked. Sighing, she flicked her wand again to remove his last bit of clothing. She did not let her eyes linger long on his flaccid penis, or the dark curls around the flesh, instead, she summoned a quilt from the bed built in to the back wall of the cabin, below a half buried window only allowing a few of snow.
The quilt flew into her hand, and rising she curled her thumb around her wand to lift the quilt to allow it fall over Severus’ body. A few more Warming Charms, Summoning a few pillows and Transfiguring the hook rug under her feet and his body into a soft mattress, Hermione sighed again.
Slipping under the ‘log-cabin’ quilt, Hermione pressed her body against his; placing her wand under her pillow next to the one she had placed under his damp head. Lifting his left arm to shift against his side, Hermione ground her teeth as he made a soft noise. He would be ill for a while, she supposed, delirious.
Her left leg wrapped about his, her pelvis pressing into his hip as she half lay on and across his body. She could almost imagine his body sucking away her warmth. Tucking the quilt around them to form a cocoon of warmth, she laid her head on his shoulder, eyes staring at the fire.
Severus had chased her all over the globe from Istanbul to Wellington, Lima to an obscure place in the Canadian Rockies. Hermione had hoped the dark, acerbic man would get the hint that she was trying to keep away, alas…
“Granger…”
Hermione stiffened, glancing up at his face. He was not awake, but he was delirious. The delirium came quicker than she thought.
She would have to leave, perhaps, as soon as he was not so close to dying. Hermione wondered if an old friend in Cairo still had a house in the Congo. Severus would have a hard time finding her there.
“Kill me…”
She laid her head down again, placing her cheek over his scarred chest and sluggish beating heart.
Hermione had had several weeks of solitude in the mountains, but she knew it would not last. Severus was relentless.
“Won’t say yes…”
She considered Silencing him. Everything out of his mouth hurt her and made the guilt she buried resurrect itself. Hermione could not leave him in such a precarious state, but she itched to go.
As long as he chased, she would run. Hermione was beginning to forget why she was running, but when Severus Snape would appear before her, yelling at her to take his hand and come back, she would remember all too well.
They were to be married. ‘Marriage’ was what the new version of the Ministry was calling it. It was more like ‘slavery.’ Hermione supposed it was to be expected, as the War had not ended in her favour. Voldemort was dead, but there were others who took his place. As a Muggle-born, she was ‘given’ to the ‘war heroes,’ former Death Eaters who had control over Britain.
‘At least I would be kind to you,’ Severus had said on several occasions when he caught up with her. ‘You would not expect less than cruelty if Dolohov would have won the bid on you.’
It made Hermione physically ill to think of Anton Dolohov, bids, and the fact that many of her friends, Muggle-borns, and Half-bloods, were now used as ‘spouses’ or ‘partners’ to former Death Eaters and other elite in the new Ministry.
With Severus incapacitated, Hermione considered slitting his throat in his sleep.
No. No, Hermione would not harm the man or take his life.
Despite her flight, despite her derision, Hermione Granger actually cared for the man shivering under her. He protected her. If it were not Severus who pursued her to try to convince her to return with him, it would be others who would exterminate her for trying to run. With Severus, she had a chance at life, and chance to convince him to let her disappear.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, MLC?
Warnings: None.
Summary: #61 – Winter. Leaving him to freeze to death would serve the git right.
Word Count: 1, 348 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 61 – Winter
Severus Snape weighed much more than he looked, and his added weight on her back made her arctic books sink deeper into the snow. Hermione Granger did not have time to dig her wand out from under the layers of pelts, arctic coat, and jumper. She could have Levitated him if the need to get indoors were not so urgent.
The snow was coming down in curtains of huge white flakes, and she could barely see where she was going when the wind blew against her face. She wished she had an extra arm to wipe off her tinted goggles, but Hermione was sure that her cabin was near, set into the mountainside in the shelter of majestic pine trees.
Severus Snape was unconscious, dead weight, and underdressed for the sub-zero temperature and wind chill. Hermione was sure that he had not meant to come here, to the Canadian Rockies in the dead of an unusually frigid winter. He had been following her for months as she bounced from one predefined safe house to another, and that day, as she was hiking to see how bad the pass was blocked with snow, he had found her.
It was clear by his reaction to the snow that he had not anticipated the cold. Hermione had yet to find what spell he was using to track her, and was quite annoyed that he had found her, again.
She knew that part of a Stunner hit him, but it was the cold that made him collapse, unconscious. He had fallen face first into the snow and by the time she trudged to him, rolling him over, his thin lips were blue.
Hermione considered leaving him to freeze to death, it would serve the git right.
His boots dragged in the snow behind her as she took one agonizingly slow step after another, finally visually locating the cabin. With a grunt, she dragged him up the icy stairs, using her well-padded bum to push the door open. When she finally had him inside, she slammed the door shut, lifting her goggles from her eyes.
Severus Snape’s face was far too pale, his lips bluish, snow making his long inky hair white and damp as it melted in the warmth of the cabin. She left him on the floor for a moment, shedding her wolverine pelt, a gift from her nearest neighbor ten miles down the mountain, then her arctic coat, hat, goggles, gloves, and finally boots until she stood over Severus Snape in a pair of unattractive Muggle thermal underwear. The exertion of dragging Severus had made her sweat through her ‘long johns’ and slowly she stripped those off as well, placing them over a folding drying rack near the raging fireplace.
Finding her wand in an inner pocket of her coat, where she had left it after placing it there to see to her pursuer, she cast a Levitation Charm on Severus, moving him to the hook rug before the fireplace next to the drying rack. In only her plain white knickers, she studied his face in the firelight.
He was shivering, and she was sure he was suffering from hypothermia.
It would do no good to let him die. She would not be able to bury him properly until the thaw. However, keeping him alive and captive in a remote cabin in the middle of nowhere in the middle of winter was not such a bad idea, as long as the pantry stores held out…
With a flick of her wand, she undressed him, bit by bit, the articles of clothing flying through the air to hang on the drying rack. When she had him down to his boxer shorts, she could see how badly the cold had affected his body. His fingers were red, as were his toes, his hooked nose, and cheeks. Crouching next to him, she let her hand move over his face to his chest.
Warming Charms floated over his skin, but were not as affective as she would have liked. Sighing, she flicked her wand again to remove his last bit of clothing. She did not let her eyes linger long on his flaccid penis, or the dark curls around the flesh, instead, she summoned a quilt from the bed built in to the back wall of the cabin, below a half buried window only allowing a few of snow.
The quilt flew into her hand, and rising she curled her thumb around her wand to lift the quilt to allow it fall over Severus’ body. A few more Warming Charms, Summoning a few pillows and Transfiguring the hook rug under her feet and his body into a soft mattress, Hermione sighed again.
Slipping under the ‘log-cabin’ quilt, Hermione pressed her body against his; placing her wand under her pillow next to the one she had placed under his damp head. Lifting his left arm to shift against his side, Hermione ground her teeth as he made a soft noise. He would be ill for a while, she supposed, delirious.
Her left leg wrapped about his, her pelvis pressing into his hip as she half lay on and across his body. She could almost imagine his body sucking away her warmth. Tucking the quilt around them to form a cocoon of warmth, she laid her head on his shoulder, eyes staring at the fire.
Severus had chased her all over the globe from Istanbul to Wellington, Lima to an obscure place in the Canadian Rockies. Hermione had hoped the dark, acerbic man would get the hint that she was trying to keep away, alas…
“Granger…”
Hermione stiffened, glancing up at his face. He was not awake, but he was delirious. The delirium came quicker than she thought.
She would have to leave, perhaps, as soon as he was not so close to dying. Hermione wondered if an old friend in Cairo still had a house in the Congo. Severus would have a hard time finding her there.
“Kill me…”
She laid her head down again, placing her cheek over his scarred chest and sluggish beating heart.
Hermione had had several weeks of solitude in the mountains, but she knew it would not last. Severus was relentless.
“Won’t say yes…”
She considered Silencing him. Everything out of his mouth hurt her and made the guilt she buried resurrect itself. Hermione could not leave him in such a precarious state, but she itched to go.
As long as he chased, she would run. Hermione was beginning to forget why she was running, but when Severus Snape would appear before her, yelling at her to take his hand and come back, she would remember all too well.
They were to be married. ‘Marriage’ was what the new version of the Ministry was calling it. It was more like ‘slavery.’ Hermione supposed it was to be expected, as the War had not ended in her favour. Voldemort was dead, but there were others who took his place. As a Muggle-born, she was ‘given’ to the ‘war heroes,’ former Death Eaters who had control over Britain.
‘At least I would be kind to you,’ Severus had said on several occasions when he caught up with her. ‘You would not expect less than cruelty if Dolohov would have won the bid on you.’
It made Hermione physically ill to think of Anton Dolohov, bids, and the fact that many of her friends, Muggle-borns, and Half-bloods, were now used as ‘spouses’ or ‘partners’ to former Death Eaters and other elite in the new Ministry.
With Severus incapacitated, Hermione considered slitting his throat in his sleep.
No. No, Hermione would not harm the man or take his life.
Despite her flight, despite her derision, Hermione Granger actually cared for the man shivering under her. He protected her. If it were not Severus who pursued her to try to convince her to return with him, it would be others who would exterminate her for trying to run. With Severus, she had a chance at life, and chance to convince him to let her disappear.