Post by kcsficmas on Dec 29, 2011 0:23:00 GMT -8
Title: No Frigging Way Part 1
Rating: G
Word Count: 947
Warnings: None.
Summary: Dumbledore has some unfavourable news for Sirius and Company.
Request: Must include Sirius, Snape, and must be deep/angsty/emotional. Must NOT include Next Generation characters, explicit mention of the war, and non-canon pairings.
Author’s Note: HAPPY CHRISTMAS, CRYSTAL!!!
-
Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk in the Headmaster’s office of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, opposite a furious Sirius Black, a sneering Severus Snape and an alarmingly tense Harry Potter, observing the three of them over his half-moon spectacles, blue eyes twinkling madly, as though six Christmases had just come at once for him. Dumbledore had just called them here, for something dreadfully important, or though it seemed, but Harry could not, for the life of him, figure out just what.
“Now, my boys,” Dumbledore said, smiling benignly at the three of them, “you might be wondering why, exactly, I have called the three of you to my office – particularly, the two of you; Severus, Sirius.” Dumbledore paused, letting his gaze rest on both irate men, and in the silence, Harry could hear Snape drumming his fingers, impatiently, on the armrest of his chair. “The answer is this; for the Christmas Holidays, the three of you will be living together, in a cottage in the Highlands.”
Silence, thick and heavy like woollen socks worn at winter, followed for several long, agonising seconds after Dumbledore said this. Harry could not believe his ears. There was no way...no frigging way that Dumbledore could have possibly said what Harry had thought he said. No way. No how. Not possible, a voice began chanting in Harry’s head, the words becoming a mantra as they were repeated, over and over. Suddenly, there was an explosion of sound as both Sirius and Snape tried to speak at once.
“There is no way in He –”
“I refuse to lodge in the same abode as this mongr –”
“Boys,” Dumbledore interjected sharply, hands raised in supplication. “One at a time, please.”
“I’d rather die than live with Snivellus for Christmas – or any time of year, for that matter,” Sirius barked, turning a malevolent sneer on Snape.
“Just say the word, Black,” Snape said, lip curling in derision as his black eyes flared with fury, “and I will do my very best to grant your wish.”
“Oh, yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Snivellus?” Sirius snarled. “You filthy Dea –”
“Will both of you just shut up for a minute?” Harry snapped, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he glowered at the pair of them. He realised that neither men would get on well with the other, but their constant bickering like an old married couple was driving him mad. Sirius closed his trap with an audible click as he folded his arms across his chest, but if looks could kill, Harry would be a smouldering pile of embers, as Snape graced him with his patented death glare and nostril flare of doom.
To add insult to injury, Harry turned his head away from Snape without another word to him. Instead, Harry looked at Dumbledore. “You’re joking, right, Professor? I mean, you can’t expect those two to stay in the same house and not kill each other...”
“Oh, but I do,” Dumbledore contradicted, inclining his head towards Harry, eyes twinkling. “I firmly believe that the three of you can learn to set aside your differences, by spending an extended period of time living together. You won’t be leaving the cottage until the three of you can learn to be civil around each other, to be respectful to each other, and to trust each other. It will be a miracle if the three of you manage to succeed in this task, but succeeding will be to your benefit, I assure you all.”
Dumbledore pulled out a drawer in his desk, and retrieved a solid black cane. “This Portkey will take you to your destination in around half a minute.” Without really thinking, Harry accepted the cane when Dumbledore handed it to him. “Severus. Sirius,” Dumbledore said sharply, giving them his most stern expression. Only an idiot would have disobeyed Dumbledore in that instant. Neither Snape nor Sirius seemed to be one of them, as they both gripped the cane, even if they were highly reluctant to do so.
A moment later the Headmaster’s office flared with bright blue light. Harry felt something hook behind his navel, and then he was gone, with barely any time to let out an exclamation. He was just gone, gone to the cottage he would be staying in for the holidays. Trapped with Snape. For Christmas. This was not the Christmas Harry had planned to have. He had planned to go to Grimmauld Place, and spend Christmas with Sirius and the Order. This idea of Dumbledore’s was absolutely daft. It would never work! Ever!
The Portkey released him and he slammed down onto a sofa, before bouncing on to the surface of a hard floor. Nearby he heard twin grunts of pain, and he turned his head to see Sirius and Snape in a tangle of limbs and robes, trying to get as far away from each other as possible, and failing miserably as they only tangled themselves up even further. “Get off me, you stupid oaf!” Snape hissed, shoving Sirius away like he was some sort of diseased thing. It was needless to say that Sirius was doing the exact same, but with a much more colourful vocabulary.
Finally, they were free of each other, standing, and glaring at each other, seething. It was an obvious struggle not to reach for their wands in that moment. It looked like the decision to not draw their wands was actually causing them pain. If Harry was in a better mood, he might have pitied them. But, as it stood, Harry was not in the happiest of moods. Picking himself up off the floor, Harry went off exploring the cottage.
Rating: G
Word Count: 947
Warnings: None.
Summary: Dumbledore has some unfavourable news for Sirius and Company.
Request: Must include Sirius, Snape, and must be deep/angsty/emotional. Must NOT include Next Generation characters, explicit mention of the war, and non-canon pairings.
Author’s Note: HAPPY CHRISTMAS, CRYSTAL!!!
-
Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk in the Headmaster’s office of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, opposite a furious Sirius Black, a sneering Severus Snape and an alarmingly tense Harry Potter, observing the three of them over his half-moon spectacles, blue eyes twinkling madly, as though six Christmases had just come at once for him. Dumbledore had just called them here, for something dreadfully important, or though it seemed, but Harry could not, for the life of him, figure out just what.
“Now, my boys,” Dumbledore said, smiling benignly at the three of them, “you might be wondering why, exactly, I have called the three of you to my office – particularly, the two of you; Severus, Sirius.” Dumbledore paused, letting his gaze rest on both irate men, and in the silence, Harry could hear Snape drumming his fingers, impatiently, on the armrest of his chair. “The answer is this; for the Christmas Holidays, the three of you will be living together, in a cottage in the Highlands.”
Silence, thick and heavy like woollen socks worn at winter, followed for several long, agonising seconds after Dumbledore said this. Harry could not believe his ears. There was no way...no frigging way that Dumbledore could have possibly said what Harry had thought he said. No way. No how. Not possible, a voice began chanting in Harry’s head, the words becoming a mantra as they were repeated, over and over. Suddenly, there was an explosion of sound as both Sirius and Snape tried to speak at once.
“There is no way in He –”
“I refuse to lodge in the same abode as this mongr –”
“Boys,” Dumbledore interjected sharply, hands raised in supplication. “One at a time, please.”
“I’d rather die than live with Snivellus for Christmas – or any time of year, for that matter,” Sirius barked, turning a malevolent sneer on Snape.
“Just say the word, Black,” Snape said, lip curling in derision as his black eyes flared with fury, “and I will do my very best to grant your wish.”
“Oh, yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Snivellus?” Sirius snarled. “You filthy Dea –”
“Will both of you just shut up for a minute?” Harry snapped, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he glowered at the pair of them. He realised that neither men would get on well with the other, but their constant bickering like an old married couple was driving him mad. Sirius closed his trap with an audible click as he folded his arms across his chest, but if looks could kill, Harry would be a smouldering pile of embers, as Snape graced him with his patented death glare and nostril flare of doom.
To add insult to injury, Harry turned his head away from Snape without another word to him. Instead, Harry looked at Dumbledore. “You’re joking, right, Professor? I mean, you can’t expect those two to stay in the same house and not kill each other...”
“Oh, but I do,” Dumbledore contradicted, inclining his head towards Harry, eyes twinkling. “I firmly believe that the three of you can learn to set aside your differences, by spending an extended period of time living together. You won’t be leaving the cottage until the three of you can learn to be civil around each other, to be respectful to each other, and to trust each other. It will be a miracle if the three of you manage to succeed in this task, but succeeding will be to your benefit, I assure you all.”
Dumbledore pulled out a drawer in his desk, and retrieved a solid black cane. “This Portkey will take you to your destination in around half a minute.” Without really thinking, Harry accepted the cane when Dumbledore handed it to him. “Severus. Sirius,” Dumbledore said sharply, giving them his most stern expression. Only an idiot would have disobeyed Dumbledore in that instant. Neither Snape nor Sirius seemed to be one of them, as they both gripped the cane, even if they were highly reluctant to do so.
A moment later the Headmaster’s office flared with bright blue light. Harry felt something hook behind his navel, and then he was gone, with barely any time to let out an exclamation. He was just gone, gone to the cottage he would be staying in for the holidays. Trapped with Snape. For Christmas. This was not the Christmas Harry had planned to have. He had planned to go to Grimmauld Place, and spend Christmas with Sirius and the Order. This idea of Dumbledore’s was absolutely daft. It would never work! Ever!
The Portkey released him and he slammed down onto a sofa, before bouncing on to the surface of a hard floor. Nearby he heard twin grunts of pain, and he turned his head to see Sirius and Snape in a tangle of limbs and robes, trying to get as far away from each other as possible, and failing miserably as they only tangled themselves up even further. “Get off me, you stupid oaf!” Snape hissed, shoving Sirius away like he was some sort of diseased thing. It was needless to say that Sirius was doing the exact same, but with a much more colourful vocabulary.
Finally, they were free of each other, standing, and glaring at each other, seething. It was an obvious struggle not to reach for their wands in that moment. It looked like the decision to not draw their wands was actually causing them pain. If Harry was in a better mood, he might have pitied them. But, as it stood, Harry was not in the happiest of moods. Picking himself up off the floor, Harry went off exploring the cottage.