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mini_fest2010-12-10 02:48 pm
mini_fest_mod) wrote in mini_fest2010-12-10 02:48 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Gift of Fate
Title: Gift of Fate
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
slu64
Rating:PG-13
Characters:Severus/Ron
Prompt(s):#88 There is one gift under Severus Snape's pitiful tree. Who is it from?
Warnings:None
Summary:Severus finds a gift under his Yule tree. My tree isn’t pitiful, but it is mysterious.
Word Count:1700+
Disclaimer:The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
A/N:Big thanks to my betastarstruck1986. Thanks so much for all your work and encouragement.
Gift of Fate
The heavy wooden door slid open without word or wand as Severus neared the threshold to his private chambers.
“Lumos,” he muttered, without a hitch in his stride.
The sitting room had barely changed since he had settled into it almost thirty years before. The furnishings, once placed, had fit him perfectly, and since then he had never given them another thought but that evening, something was different.
Severus dropped the inane Christmas cracker, which Minerva had insisted he take when he left the festive dinner in the Great Hall, onto the side table next to his favorite chair. As he began to unbutton the long line of the formal coat he had worn that evening, he stared at the apparition in the corner of the room.
It was Christmas Eve.
Severus stared at the glowing Yule tree atop a small table draped in red and green. The decorations were simple- a few bulbs, a few glass snowflakes, and gold tinsel circling the greenery from the bow at the top to the edges of the bottom boughs. Fairies hovered close to the tree and made it glow as one large light.
Severus removed his jacket and tossed it across the companion chair to his own. Giving the Yule glow a wide berth he stepped to his small group of bottles and selected his usual. The scent of rich brandy filled his nostrils as he eyed the tree again, watching for sparks, darting pixies or any other brethren of oddities that might wreak havoc on his evening. It was then that he noticed the small box underneath the lowest branches. The cube shaped box had a single red bow upon its top with a large tag attached.
Severus retrieved his glass and removed himself from the vicinity of the tree. The gift stared at him patiently, waiting for him to claim it, but Severus was harder to break than that.
Who sent it?
He had already exchanged gifts with the few staff he saw fit to purchase a gift for -a new tartan scarf for Minerva; a new sleeping cap and slippers for Poppy, and a bottle of Glenmorangie for Filius. His list was complete.
Liar.
Severus gritted his teeth briefly at his own admission. The ten years since the war had been good to him. His potions research and teaching had brought a fair bit of recognition to him as the Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts, but despite all his new acquaintances and social engagements, Severus Snape was still alone.
He took his seat and eyed the blazing tree. The lone gift peeked out at him from underneath.
Why has someone sent me a gift?
Severus shook his head. He had no time for games. Severus took another sip of brandy before setting it aside, and reaching for Minerva’s gift. Twenty-First Century Advances in Potion Making He barely made it past the opening page before casting it aside with a, “Bah!”
Severus rose from his chair and approached the small splendour again. It looked innocent enough and his hand didn’t seem to be in peril when it tentatively reached for the decorated box hiding shyly at the tree’s base. It came with him freely and when seated again, rested quietly in his lap.
He fingered the gift’s bow; between the tree and dinner, Severus was unable to concentrate on anything else. The velvet ribbon was blood red and soft to the touch.
Dinner.
Severus had arrived only a few minutes before the prompt dinner hour to minimise the necessary holiday pleasantries that he would have to endure during the meal, only to find the redheaded flying coach sitting on the opposite side of the dinner table. Ron Weasley had taken the post of Quiddich coach and flying instructor several years prior, but that year had been the first time he had remained in the castle over the winter break. Their conversation had been perfunctory at best with simple questions and one-word answers. For two members of the same faculty that rarely crossed paths, Severus took it as a good sign that they could converse at all.
Although they rarely spoke, Severus had ample opportunities to observe Ron in his duties. While the students enjoyed his flying instruction, the coaching of the house Quidditch teams had thrived under his tutelage.
The large tag attached to the bow waited patiently for his attention as Severus took another sip of his drink and contemplated the box. It seemed to be empty. It had no apparent weight other than the packaging itself. Nothing inside the box shifted when it was carried, and nothing jiggled when it was shaken.
What’s inside?
The container was a perfect cube; large enough to hold a large apple or orange. The possibilities as to its contents were limited from its size alone, and he couldn’t help shaking the box again. The tag, as he grew irritated, scraped across his knuckles to remind him of its presence.
Severus pushed open the folded card.
Make a wish and open the box. Do not wish for riches or gold. Do not wish for knowledge beyond man. The wish that is pure and simple will be rewarded.
“What nonsense.” Severus grimaced at the card and the box in turn.
Severus had escaped dinner that evening as soon as it had been respectful to do so. It had been disconcerting to swap questions with the easy mannered man. His crooked smile and arched brow seemed to mock him when each time the conversation at the dinner came back around to the two of them.
Severus reached for the last of his brandy, staring down at his long fingers wrapped around the glass. He was forced to recall similarly long fingers dusted with ginger hairs lightly grasping a wine goblet as it rose for the opening dinner toast, and the drop of errant burgundy that slipped freely from the man’s lips and clung to his chin before being callously wiped away instead of savoured.
Severus swallowed the last of the amber drink, feeling it burn a path to his already tumultuous stomach.
A wish that is pure and simple.
Severus cringed; that left out most of the feelings that had spiked that evening. Ron’s quidditch toned body had been on Severus’ mind more and more recently and combined with his easy charm, Severus couldn’t help his impure thoughts.
Make a wish and open the box.
It was all for naught anyway, Severus thought, caressing his lip. The bright inquisitive eyes and the full lips of Ron Weasley would belong to someone else one day and sooner than later, no doubt.
The doubting thoughts grew as Severus let the velvet ribbon entwine between his fingers, caressing the sinfully soft fabric. There were too many obstacles –his past and Ron’s friends topping the list too long to be imaginable.
Do not wish for riches or gold. Do not wish for knowledge beyond man.
He supposed at that point in his life he should just be happy with a companion; someone to share a drink with, a game of chess or even a heated discussion about Ministry policies. Severus eyed the empty chair beside him. His physical needs could be assuaged in innumerable other ways if there was just someone willing to sit in that chair from time to time.
Severus tugged at the ribbon watching it fall around the sides of the box. The finger that had caressed his lip had found its way wedged between Severus’ teeth as he gently grasped the small lid and lifted it away. An odd sensation made him shiver. He leaned forward to peer inside. It was empty just as he knew it would be and it an odd sense of defeat he slumped back against the chair giving the empty chair across from him a glance.
“You idiot.” Severus stood and the box fell to the floor. With a snarl, Severus kicked the box aiming for the fire, but the box fell short of the hearth and sat mocking him.
“What were you thinking?” Severus walked around his chair and headed for his chambers.
“As if…”
A knock interrupted his tirade and he glared at the door with its late evening disturbance. There were only ten dunderheads remaining in the castle over the holiday, and surely they would see fit not to worsen his already dreadful evening.
Another knock came, and Severus strode to the door and yanked it open to appease the sudden need to throttle something.
“What….?” Severus bellowed but stopped.
Startled blue eyes looked back at him through tousled red fringe. The formal navy robes from dinner were gone revealing what Severus was sure he had worn to dinner underneath- faded jeans so tight they left nothing to the imagination and a stretched and faded jumper with a giant letter F across the front.
“Ronald.” Severus’ fingers tightened around the door edge.
“Good Evening, Severus. I…”
Severus watched the convulsive swallow working at the young man’s throat. He couldn’t help the sudden jerk of his cock and hoped his guest didn’t notice.
“I… I was wondering, if you’re not too tired that is, if you’d like a game of chess?” The tall man shrugged, and it was then that Severus noticed the box clasped easily in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Ron saw him notice the bottle and held it out, awkwardly. “Mum always said I shouldn’t intrude on people without cause and without a gift.”
“I see the gift, Ronald, but am still uncertain as to the cause of your appearance on my doorstep,” Severus couldn’t help asking.
“Oh, that, well, I…I don’t know exactly. A few minutes ago I had a sudden urge to play chess and I thought of you.” The lopsided smile warmed Severus a bit too much, but he wasn’t going to think about that.
With a nod, Severus stepped back, letting Ron into the room. “Come in. I’ll just straighten up…” Severus’ eyes canvassed the hearth for the trashed gift box, but it was gone.
“This alright?” Ron placed the chess box on the table between the chairs at Severus’ assent before looking around the room.
“It looks fine.”
Ron’s perusal of the room stopped on Severus.
“Just fine.”
~The End~
Author:
slu64Rating:PG-13
Characters:Severus/Ron
Prompt(s):#88 There is one gift under Severus Snape's pitiful tree. Who is it from?
Warnings:None
Summary:Severus finds a gift under his Yule tree. My tree isn’t pitiful, but it is mysterious.
Word Count:1700+
Disclaimer:The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
A/N:Big thanks to my beta
starstruck1986. Thanks so much for all your work and encouragement.Gift of Fate
The heavy wooden door slid open without word or wand as Severus neared the threshold to his private chambers.
“Lumos,” he muttered, without a hitch in his stride.
The sitting room had barely changed since he had settled into it almost thirty years before. The furnishings, once placed, had fit him perfectly, and since then he had never given them another thought but that evening, something was different.
Severus dropped the inane Christmas cracker, which Minerva had insisted he take when he left the festive dinner in the Great Hall, onto the side table next to his favorite chair. As he began to unbutton the long line of the formal coat he had worn that evening, he stared at the apparition in the corner of the room.
It was Christmas Eve.
Severus stared at the glowing Yule tree atop a small table draped in red and green. The decorations were simple- a few bulbs, a few glass snowflakes, and gold tinsel circling the greenery from the bow at the top to the edges of the bottom boughs. Fairies hovered close to the tree and made it glow as one large light.
Severus removed his jacket and tossed it across the companion chair to his own. Giving the Yule glow a wide berth he stepped to his small group of bottles and selected his usual. The scent of rich brandy filled his nostrils as he eyed the tree again, watching for sparks, darting pixies or any other brethren of oddities that might wreak havoc on his evening. It was then that he noticed the small box underneath the lowest branches. The cube shaped box had a single red bow upon its top with a large tag attached.
Severus retrieved his glass and removed himself from the vicinity of the tree. The gift stared at him patiently, waiting for him to claim it, but Severus was harder to break than that.
Who sent it?
He had already exchanged gifts with the few staff he saw fit to purchase a gift for -a new tartan scarf for Minerva; a new sleeping cap and slippers for Poppy, and a bottle of Glenmorangie for Filius. His list was complete.
Liar.
Severus gritted his teeth briefly at his own admission. The ten years since the war had been good to him. His potions research and teaching had brought a fair bit of recognition to him as the Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts, but despite all his new acquaintances and social engagements, Severus Snape was still alone.
He took his seat and eyed the blazing tree. The lone gift peeked out at him from underneath.
Why has someone sent me a gift?
Severus shook his head. He had no time for games. Severus took another sip of brandy before setting it aside, and reaching for Minerva’s gift. Twenty-First Century Advances in Potion Making He barely made it past the opening page before casting it aside with a, “Bah!”
Severus rose from his chair and approached the small splendour again. It looked innocent enough and his hand didn’t seem to be in peril when it tentatively reached for the decorated box hiding shyly at the tree’s base. It came with him freely and when seated again, rested quietly in his lap.
He fingered the gift’s bow; between the tree and dinner, Severus was unable to concentrate on anything else. The velvet ribbon was blood red and soft to the touch.
Dinner.
Severus had arrived only a few minutes before the prompt dinner hour to minimise the necessary holiday pleasantries that he would have to endure during the meal, only to find the redheaded flying coach sitting on the opposite side of the dinner table. Ron Weasley had taken the post of Quiddich coach and flying instructor several years prior, but that year had been the first time he had remained in the castle over the winter break. Their conversation had been perfunctory at best with simple questions and one-word answers. For two members of the same faculty that rarely crossed paths, Severus took it as a good sign that they could converse at all.
Although they rarely spoke, Severus had ample opportunities to observe Ron in his duties. While the students enjoyed his flying instruction, the coaching of the house Quidditch teams had thrived under his tutelage.
The large tag attached to the bow waited patiently for his attention as Severus took another sip of his drink and contemplated the box. It seemed to be empty. It had no apparent weight other than the packaging itself. Nothing inside the box shifted when it was carried, and nothing jiggled when it was shaken.
What’s inside?
The container was a perfect cube; large enough to hold a large apple or orange. The possibilities as to its contents were limited from its size alone, and he couldn’t help shaking the box again. The tag, as he grew irritated, scraped across his knuckles to remind him of its presence.
Severus pushed open the folded card.
Make a wish and open the box. Do not wish for riches or gold. Do not wish for knowledge beyond man. The wish that is pure and simple will be rewarded.
“What nonsense.” Severus grimaced at the card and the box in turn.
Severus had escaped dinner that evening as soon as it had been respectful to do so. It had been disconcerting to swap questions with the easy mannered man. His crooked smile and arched brow seemed to mock him when each time the conversation at the dinner came back around to the two of them.
Severus reached for the last of his brandy, staring down at his long fingers wrapped around the glass. He was forced to recall similarly long fingers dusted with ginger hairs lightly grasping a wine goblet as it rose for the opening dinner toast, and the drop of errant burgundy that slipped freely from the man’s lips and clung to his chin before being callously wiped away instead of savoured.
Severus swallowed the last of the amber drink, feeling it burn a path to his already tumultuous stomach.
A wish that is pure and simple.
Severus cringed; that left out most of the feelings that had spiked that evening. Ron’s quidditch toned body had been on Severus’ mind more and more recently and combined with his easy charm, Severus couldn’t help his impure thoughts.
Make a wish and open the box.
It was all for naught anyway, Severus thought, caressing his lip. The bright inquisitive eyes and the full lips of Ron Weasley would belong to someone else one day and sooner than later, no doubt.
The doubting thoughts grew as Severus let the velvet ribbon entwine between his fingers, caressing the sinfully soft fabric. There were too many obstacles –his past and Ron’s friends topping the list too long to be imaginable.
Do not wish for riches or gold. Do not wish for knowledge beyond man.
He supposed at that point in his life he should just be happy with a companion; someone to share a drink with, a game of chess or even a heated discussion about Ministry policies. Severus eyed the empty chair beside him. His physical needs could be assuaged in innumerable other ways if there was just someone willing to sit in that chair from time to time.
Severus tugged at the ribbon watching it fall around the sides of the box. The finger that had caressed his lip had found its way wedged between Severus’ teeth as he gently grasped the small lid and lifted it away. An odd sensation made him shiver. He leaned forward to peer inside. It was empty just as he knew it would be and it an odd sense of defeat he slumped back against the chair giving the empty chair across from him a glance.
“You idiot.” Severus stood and the box fell to the floor. With a snarl, Severus kicked the box aiming for the fire, but the box fell short of the hearth and sat mocking him.
“What were you thinking?” Severus walked around his chair and headed for his chambers.
“As if…”
A knock interrupted his tirade and he glared at the door with its late evening disturbance. There were only ten dunderheads remaining in the castle over the holiday, and surely they would see fit not to worsen his already dreadful evening.
Another knock came, and Severus strode to the door and yanked it open to appease the sudden need to throttle something.
“What….?” Severus bellowed but stopped.
Startled blue eyes looked back at him through tousled red fringe. The formal navy robes from dinner were gone revealing what Severus was sure he had worn to dinner underneath- faded jeans so tight they left nothing to the imagination and a stretched and faded jumper with a giant letter F across the front.
“Ronald.” Severus’ fingers tightened around the door edge.
“Good Evening, Severus. I…”
Severus watched the convulsive swallow working at the young man’s throat. He couldn’t help the sudden jerk of his cock and hoped his guest didn’t notice.
“I… I was wondering, if you’re not too tired that is, if you’d like a game of chess?” The tall man shrugged, and it was then that Severus noticed the box clasped easily in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Ron saw him notice the bottle and held it out, awkwardly. “Mum always said I shouldn’t intrude on people without cause and without a gift.”
“I see the gift, Ronald, but am still uncertain as to the cause of your appearance on my doorstep,” Severus couldn’t help asking.
“Oh, that, well, I…I don’t know exactly. A few minutes ago I had a sudden urge to play chess and I thought of you.” The lopsided smile warmed Severus a bit too much, but he wasn’t going to think about that.
With a nod, Severus stepped back, letting Ron into the room. “Come in. I’ll just straighten up…” Severus’ eyes canvassed the hearth for the trashed gift box, but it was gone.
“This alright?” Ron placed the chess box on the table between the chairs at Severus’ assent before looking around the room.
“It looks fine.”
Ron’s perusal of the room stopped on Severus.
“Just fine.”
~The End~