The Rocking Chair
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,140
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,140
Reviews:
2
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.
The Rocking Chair
This is just a little drabble that resulted one day from becoming far too silly in chat. I hope it makes you smile.
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The Rocking Chair
He had wanted her for as long as he could remember. She was the epitome of everything feminine, and the only one for him as far as he was concerned. He watched the house from a distance, and he felt like a common stalker, which to his surprise shamed him mightily. He waited, watching and biding his time, for she was always surrounded by members of her clan, and never seemed to be alone. He silently crept inside the darkened house making not a solitary sound, as he was quite skilled at stealth. Once inside, he regarded his options, and finally decided upon the one that would give him the best recourse, and so he patiently waited throughout the night.
The next morning came with the familial chaos of children yammering, and those little yapping annoying vermin she adoringly called her pets creating a din of noise. The one she claimed as her mate left for the day, and the others decided to spend their time with friends, for once leaving her by herself. The house soon grew quiet, with only the steady ticking sound of the clock to be heard, and dust motes could be seen shimmering in the streams of sunlight that flooded through the windows.
He looked up as she entered the room and began her domestic duties of cleaning and dusting. She eventually made her way over and ran a dust-cloth over the arms of the black leather rocking chair – his arms. The mysterious observer had transfigured into that odious piece of cumbersome looking furniture, and he shivered slightly from her touch. He watched with black button eyes, her every move, he even swivelled slightly to get a better view as she bent to retrieve a book from the floor.
The chore soon done, she walked out of sight into what was apparently the kitchen. He could smell a tantalizing odour wafting through the air, and he realized she must have been cooking breakfast. Now even though he was at the present an innocuous looking rocking chair, he was above all a wizard, and a mortal man. The aroma soon had his stuffing growling in earnest, and she must have heard because she quickly poked her head around the corner. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, and she remained still while listening intently. Hearing nothing more she disappeared, and he heard the soft clink and rattle of dishes and utensils.
After continuing to wait for some time, he was rewarded with her presence once more, and he silently willed her over to him in vain. He would glance up and she would leave then return while she went about her business, and soon his button eyes began to droop with sleep as he listened to her move about the house. He awoke with a slight start to find her approaching him, and he gazed at her delectable rear as she moved to sit down onto his cushion. His button eyes rolled back as she started to rock back and forth, and the seam where his mouth would have been puckered as if he were biting his lip.
The chair started to squeak - it had never done so before, and she frowned slightly. Little did she know the squeaks were moans he was making for he simply could not help it as he succumbed to the gentle motion of her body against his upholstery. She stopped rocking when the chair gave a little jerk as its springs contracted with a particularly loud squeak; she didn’t know that the dark wizard was immensely grateful for the physical release she had unwittingly supplied. She continued to sit there, and he could feel her body relax against him as he realized she had fallen asleep.
His moment had arrived.
The chair arms slowly transformed into the strong black-clad arms of a wizard - namely Severus Snape. The cushion became his lap, and her head rested against his chest. He began to nuzzle her jaw then his lips travelled down to her neck. He stood, and carried her gently to the bedroom then placed her upon the freshly made bed, and gazed down at her wistfully.
He wished she could belong to him, but that could never be; she didn't choose Severus Snape, she chose another. He would have to be content with the stolen kisses, and filling his adoring eyes with her beauty. He placed a coverlet over her sleeping form, then bent once more and placed a tender kiss upon her soft lips. He sighed, and then slowly closed the door behind him. He had not been able to make her his - he couldn't bring himself do that to her. It was then he resolved to love and worship her from afar. Sadly, he returned the real chair to its proper place, and left to resume his lonely life as potions master.
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He had wanted her for as long as he could remember. She was the epitome of everything feminine, and the only one for him as far as he was concerned. He watched the house from a distance, and he felt like a common stalker, which to his surprise shamed him mightily. He waited, watching and biding his time, for she was always surrounded by members of her clan, and never seemed to be alone. He silently crept inside the darkened house making not a solitary sound, as he was quite skilled at stealth. Once inside, he regarded his options, and finally decided upon the one that would give him the best recourse, and so he patiently waited throughout the night.
The next morning came with the familial chaos of children yammering, and those little yapping annoying vermin she adoringly called her pets creating a din of noise. The one she claimed as her mate left for the day, and the others decided to spend their time with friends, for once leaving her by herself. The house soon grew quiet, with only the steady ticking sound of the clock to be heard, and dust motes could be seen shimmering in the streams of sunlight that flooded through the windows.
He looked up as she entered the room and began her domestic duties of cleaning and dusting. She eventually made her way over and ran a dust-cloth over the arms of the black leather rocking chair – his arms. The mysterious observer had transfigured into that odious piece of cumbersome looking furniture, and he shivered slightly from her touch. He watched with black button eyes, her every move, he even swivelled slightly to get a better view as she bent to retrieve a book from the floor.
The chore soon done, she walked out of sight into what was apparently the kitchen. He could smell a tantalizing odour wafting through the air, and he realized she must have been cooking breakfast. Now even though he was at the present an innocuous looking rocking chair, he was above all a wizard, and a mortal man. The aroma soon had his stuffing growling in earnest, and she must have heard because she quickly poked her head around the corner. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, and she remained still while listening intently. Hearing nothing more she disappeared, and he heard the soft clink and rattle of dishes and utensils.
After continuing to wait for some time, he was rewarded with her presence once more, and he silently willed her over to him in vain. He would glance up and she would leave then return while she went about her business, and soon his button eyes began to droop with sleep as he listened to her move about the house. He awoke with a slight start to find her approaching him, and he gazed at her delectable rear as she moved to sit down onto his cushion. His button eyes rolled back as she started to rock back and forth, and the seam where his mouth would have been puckered as if he were biting his lip.
The chair started to squeak - it had never done so before, and she frowned slightly. Little did she know the squeaks were moans he was making for he simply could not help it as he succumbed to the gentle motion of her body against his upholstery. She stopped rocking when the chair gave a little jerk as its springs contracted with a particularly loud squeak; she didn’t know that the dark wizard was immensely grateful for the physical release she had unwittingly supplied. She continued to sit there, and he could feel her body relax against him as he realized she had fallen asleep.
His moment had arrived.
The chair arms slowly transformed into the strong black-clad arms of a wizard - namely Severus Snape. The cushion became his lap, and her head rested against his chest. He began to nuzzle her jaw then his lips travelled down to her neck. He stood, and carried her gently to the bedroom then placed her upon the freshly made bed, and gazed down at her wistfully.
He wished she could belong to him, but that could never be; she didn't choose Severus Snape, she chose another. He would have to be content with the stolen kisses, and filling his adoring eyes with her beauty. He placed a coverlet over her sleeping form, then bent once more and placed a tender kiss upon her soft lips. He sighed, and then slowly closed the door behind him. He had not been able to make her his - he couldn't bring himself do that to her. It was then he resolved to love and worship her from afar. Sadly, he returned the real chair to its proper place, and left to resume his lonely life as potions master.