Title: Snarry_Games Drabbles

Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter

Rating: G to R

Warnings: implied torture, main character death

Summary: A Collection of connected and unconnected drabbles written based on the prompt table for the 2006 snarry_games on LJ.

A/N: These drabbles were written and originally posted in 2006 for the snarry_games. They are un-beta'd and I am not going to edit them (despite my extreme desire to). I hope you enjoy them.

[Romance]

Sleep Deprivation:
Severus couldn't sleep. Those orphan brats had given his husband the wizarding flu and he was up and out of bed every quarter hour to wretch into the toilet, which meant that Severus was up a minute later with a cold compress ready. They say it's love when you move mountains for your lover. Severus knew nothing of mountains, but wiping his husband's face of vomit seemed a close second.

Like clockwork, Harry was up again at 4:30 and Severus with him. Afterwards, with Harry leaning against him on the bathroom floor, he though it might be worth the exhaustion.

Always Hungry:
He managed to keep the craving hidden, but it still gnawed at his insides. He was ravenous upon sight of the boy, constantly craving another taste. Just one more, and then he would stop. Only to give in once more when the constant hunger finally devoured his resolve again. Then, he would shove the boy against any available surface and ravish him, again.

One day they would be caught, gasping and thrashing together, perhaps in the training room, perhaps on his desk. Either way, his reputation would be ruined. Looking at the boy, though, he wasn't sure he particularly cared.

Courage:
Severus stood at the front door of the little cottage, nervous for the first time in—he could not remember how long. This was alien to him, odd, uncomfortable. The new robes, though black, still fit rather tighter than he was accustomed to and his freshly-scrubbed hair kept falling in his eyes. The only thing that kept him where he was, was the person on the other side of the door.

He just needed the courage to knock on that door. After twenty minutes, he finally managed a weak knock. The door promptly opened to reveal a grinning Harry Potter.

Things Left Unsaid:
Unless he's diatribing on the inadequacies of students, Severus doesn't say much. Harry has become accustomed to one-sided conversations about his friends over the dinner table. He is content with a mumbled reply when he tells his husband he loves him. He does not need words to confirm what he already knows.

Instead, Severus steals his hand and kisses the knuckles every morning when he passes by to get his coffee, tolerates finger-paint pictures on the refrigerator from the orphanage, spoons behind him when he thinks Harry is asleep. The proper words are unnecessary. Harry understands the message being sent.

Vertigo:
Severus works his pupil hard in training, harder than is strictly necessary, he knows, which is why he allows it when the young man commandeers his shower first and sits in his favourite reading chair most evenings. It is worth it if it means that he can experience his favourite part of the day, the moment when that wet-haired, clean-smelling young man slinks into his arms and pushes up on tiptoes to kiss his breath away. In that moment, the bottom drops out of his world and his head becomes a dizzying swirl, almost like vertigo. His one perfect moment.

Last Dance:
In Severus' eyes, Harry is faithful, unconventionally faithful, but faithful still. The Prophet, Witch Weekly, even occasionally The Quibbler, all boast stories of Harry's many and frequent conquests; as far as Severus is aware though, he has never asked, it is all true. And all inconsequential. He is old enough not to expect monogamy.

The consequential fact is that no matter whom Harry has been with, he always comes back to Severus' bed. In three years, Harry has only slept elsewhere three times, each Christmas at the Burrow. As long as his Harry returns, he has nothing to worry about.

Superstition:
Harry jumped behind the full-length mirror as soon as he saw Severus enter the room. "Go away, it's bad luck to see each other before the wedding."

Severus ignored him. "That is muggle superstition."

"Are you sure?" Harry peeked out cautiously to find his fiancé within arms reach.

"Yes, now come here." Without waiting, Severus snatched him up and kissed him. Harry hesitated for only a moment before giving in.

A door opened, there was a crash, and then Molly Weasley was screeching, "Severus, get out! It's bad luck to see your husband before the wedding!"

"Muggle superstition, is it?"

Posthumous Request:
Severus blinked at what he saw in front of him. Potter was standing at his doorstep. "Lost, Potter?"

The boy—now man—grinned at him. "Not at all. I'm here to stay."

"Have you seen a mediwizard lately? I believe you're overdue." Potter rolled his eyes and pushed passed him, previously-unnoticed suitcase in hand.

"Very funny. Minerva wanted me to take care of you, thought you needed a companion, so here I am."

"Were you not made aware of her death?"

Potter tossed him a parchment before heading upstairs. Minerva's Will. "That's what you get for skiving off the Reading."

Sacrifice:
"Where's your spare room?"

"I don't have one."

"Well, I'm not sleeping on that sofa. It looks mouldy."

"You needn't stay at all, you know. I do not need a babysitter."

The brat rolled his eyes. "Companion, partner, friends, not babysitter. Minerva asked, I'm not saying no."

Severus sneered at him. "It is unnecessary. And what made her choose you? We aren't… friends."

"I volunteered. Hermione thinks I have a self-sacrificing complex."

"I might have to agree."

"Either way, I'm yours from now on, so you'll have to budge over. Hope you don't have a single." Severus blanched at him.

Seven Year Itch:
The seven-year mark, the so-called 'test' of a relationship. He supposed that, since Harry was consistently permitted to visit other beds as often as he pleased, the test would be whether or not Harry chose to remain in his any longer.

"You tolerate a lot from me," Harry murmured while in bed that night.

"It is worth the reward of being with you."

"Is it? Well, you won't have to anymore." Severus' insides clenched. This was it. His love was leaving. "I'm not going to do it anymore."

That had been unexpected.

"I supposed I could tolerate that." Harry grinned.

Proving His Independence:
Harry left Hogwarts after the dust had cleared. Severus always assumed that he was no longer interested in whatever alliances had occurred between them and dismissed the thought of him. For five years, Minerva gave reports on his progress through university and later with his Dark Arts Mastery, but he heard nothing else of the boy. And so he was surprised to find a much matured Harry Potter at the first staff meeting of the year.

"You saw me as a child, I had to leave."

"And now?" No answer, just a firm kiss in the middle of the hallway.

Ancestry:
"Potter, you're on my side."

"You don't mind."

"Your father would not approve of this."

"Wouldn't know, I never met him."

"I did, and he would not approve of your… That hand is in a very inappropriate place!"

Harry smirked impishly against his bare shoulder. "You like it." There were shuffling noises followed by wet sounds, then a muffled moan.

"I highly doubt this is what Minerva intended…"

"Good thing she wasn't specific then, isn't it?" More shuffling and wet sounds in the dark.

"Potter! …You may do that again if you prefer." The sounds grew progressively louder from there.

Dollhouse:
There was a little girl, only three, with bright black ringlets and beautiful green eyes, a perfect combination of him and his husband. Harry had been hinting at wanting to adopt her since the day she came to the orphanage he ran. Severus said nothing.

Then, one day he came home to find the most elaborate dollhouse he had ever seen sitting on the dining table. The dolls inside actually moved, cleaning, talking, the tiny Labrador barking.

When Harry asked his husband about it, all Severus said was that a little girl needed toys. Harry nearly mauled him in excitement.

[Angst]

Sleep Deprivation:
It had been eighty-six hours and twenty-nine minutes since Potter had last slept. Snape had a charm running to time it. The boy was delirious at this point, muttering to himself about dead friends and lost dreams, his skeletal frame fumbling about the miniscule room he was kept in. He would only be permitted sleep again when he told of the whereabouts of another of his allies—his 'friends'.

The previous session had taken three hundred and seventy-two hours and fifty-six minutes before the wretch broke down. This third session would be shorter, perhaps only two hundred hours, perhaps less.

Always Hungry:
Potter was withstanding the starvation with much less difficulty than he had the lack of sleep. Snape was perplexed by this new show of strength. The boy had gone over two weeks without sleep before conceding the position of Lupin, but it was now three weeks with only a moulding slice of bread and a glass of water every four days, and the boy still remained silent. The boy was beginning to resemble a skeleton, and yet still nothing.

Then Snape heard something. "Vernon, nothing worse than Vernon." Vernon Dursley, the boy's uncle? Perhaps a new tactic was in order.

Courage:
Potter looked ridiculously small wrapped in the tartan blanket. The wool had to be scratching his sensitive skin, but he showed no signs of irritation as he greedily slurped his soup. He had already taken a potion to assure it stayed down.

Severus studied him, calculating his way in. "You have shown courage beyond even that of a Gryffindor."

"I am a Gryffindor."

"Yes, but I think even Godric would accept your surrender now, don't you? You've held on admirably, but you are fading and I will not relent. Give the locations and I will stop."

Potter only stared silently.

Benediction:
Shacklebolt hadn't been his main interest, but it was beginning enough to provide Potter a warm bed and three square meals. The alteration of his treatment wrought an alteration in Potter. He was not forthcoming, but he responded when Snape attempted conversation, raised no objection to their shared meals, and did not shy away when Snape 'casually' touched him.

"You know I've only done this on my Master's orders, don't you, Potter? Personally, I believe your determination alone warrants better."

"We never asked you to hurt anyone."

"No, my forced spying was a blessing bestowed upon me."

Potter said nothing.

Things Left Unsaid:
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, the scene has played out three times a day nearly every day during term time at Hogwarts for over ten years. Harry Potter enters the Hall through the main doors, occasionally surrounded by chatting students, but more often not, and strolls up to the staff table to take his seat three chairs deep, on the right side.

Ten minutes later, Severus Snape sweeps through the side entrance and takes his seat four chairs deep, on the right side. Potter stiffens and they exchange a glare. Both proceed to tuck in. No words are exchanged between them.

Vertigo:
"So this is it?" Harry asked, standing on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower, a wand digging painfully into his neck.

"You always knew I was a Deatheater, Potter. Were you expecting anything less?"

"No, I just thought you'd have more courage than to make me jump."

"Self-preservation, not cowardice, Potter. They've already believed you made, suicide is not a far reach."

Looking down, the ground seemed much further than three hundred feet. Harry felt his stomach churn. "Why? Voldemort's dead, I don't matter anymore." His only answer was a compulsion to jump, something he was too distracted to ignore.

Nightmares:
Coaxing Potter into his bed had been far easier than he had first anticipated, but then he must have fractured Potter's resolve enough with their growing civility. The boy curled into his side in bed now, submitted to being ravished almost eagerly. It was all rather pleasant, actually.

And the dalliances had allowed Severus to make a wonderful discovery: in the throws of passion, Potter would reveal anything one liked to know without even realizing he had spoken. And thus, Severus had all the information from the boy that he liked without any of the strain of having to torture.

Last Dance:
"Dance with me?"

"I don't dance, Potter."

"This is my last night on Earth. You can't make an exception?"

"There isn't any music."

"We don't need any."

With a heavy sigh Severus pulled him into his arms and they began to sway together. Harry laid his head on Severus' shoulder and melted into him. Tears sprung into his eyes and he burrowed closer. "I don't want to die, Severus."

"We all have to die sometime."

"You're supposed to be consoling."

"I don't know how."

"Then just hold me."

They continued to sway in silence as his tears soaked Severus' robes.

Posthumous Request:
The invitation to the reading of the Will surprised Severus. He had no interest to hear that everything was going to the Weasleys. He grudgingly went anyway at Minerva's request and stood in the corner. After wading through miscellaneous items, he was enlightened as to his presence.

"To Severus Snape, the only man I ever truly loved, I bequeath the entire Potter estate." Severus was trembling as Minerva handed him a letter in Harry's writing. His Harry had given him more than money; he had given him the one thing he always wanted, the freedom to choose his own path.

Seven Year Itch:
"Potter, where are your things?"

"At Ron's," was the surprisingly-hostile answer.

"Is there a particular reason for their being at Weasley's?"

"I'm leaving."

Severus felt the air constrict in his lungs. "What do you mean?" He was not expecting the outburst that followed.

"I'm leaving you! I can't stand this relationship anymore! It's stifling! We used to have amazing, exciting sex, but now you never want to touch me and you're boring and I won't tolerate any more! Goodbye!" Harry left, slamming the door behind him, leaving Severus blind-sided and wondering where in the hell that had just come from.

Proving His Independence:
Snape always interrupted the post before Harry could get to it, even Harry's, then handed the non-business correspondents to him afterwards. It drove Harry mad. One morning, as Snape was getting up to take the post to his desk, Harry decided to stop him. "Two of those are for me."

"Indeed, I will inform you of any pertinent information later." He leaned down to kiss him and Harry made a grab for the parchments.

"I have a right to read them."

"You wouldn't understand them."

Sneering, Harry yanked them out of his hand. "We won't know that until I do."

Fin.