Title: The Weight of Twenty-five Years [part 3]
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Rodolphus Lestrange/Severus Snape
Warnings: More angst than ever before, possible severe context failures.
Notes: This part isn’t finished, but I’m putting up what I’ve got for one reader, in particular. I’ll post a finished part 3, when I finish it.
Sections: [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 ]
Severus reached out and caught Roddy’s arm, pulling him closer, and after some comic failures, dragging Roddy onto himself. "You’re warm," was his only excuse, and with it, he laid back down, fully, and raised his hand to the blind side of Roddy’s face. "Your left," he warned, before stroking that cheek.
Roddy straightened out the tangle of legs, setting his knees at Sev’s hips, again, before lowering himself across Sev’s chest like a very large cat. He crossed his arms and nuzzled Sev’s nose. "If you’re just going to pet me, I can live with that."
"It’s a twisted sense of humour you have, Roddy." Severus looked terribly uncomfortable. "I just like you better where I can look up and see you. I sound like a damn fool, but I can’t let myself forget what’s happening. I can’t let my memory change what I’m about to do. I need you to be you — to stay you. I need this not to be another nightmare. I’m afraid I’ve never woken up…"
He looked away, but not so quickly that Roddy couldn’t see the fear in his eyes.
"You dreamed this while you were half-dead? I’m not sure if I should be amused or bothered. I promise you’re up, this time. I’d know it if you were still out." Roddy reached out and turned Sev’s face toward him, again. "If you need to be sure I’m me, then you should be looking. What are you so afraid I’ll become?"
"Bella… or Him. It all moved so fast. It was so real, and none of it was true." Sev folded his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits. "I need you to be real, Roddy. I just need you."
"Merlin’s balls, if I don’t know why you pulled all that trickery in my head, back in ’79. I thought it was me — thought I was weak, but that’s not it at all, is it? You’re not taking the whole dying thing too well, yourself." Roddy stretched out, leaning just a bit to the right, to take the weight off Sev’s chest. He propped his head in his hand, and rested the other hand on Sev’s shoulder. "You’ve been dead. You touched it and you came back — and I like to spoil myself thinking you came back for me, I do. I remember the night He made you take the seals off me, and I think of everything that came back with that night, and all I can say is that at least you’re not on a murderous rampage."
Half a smile twisted Sev’s face, as he gazed disbelievingly up. "They put you in a room with your killer. I don’t have that luxury — mine’s already been done for by the Gobshite-Who-Bloody-Well-Lived-And-Had-The-Life-I-Wanted-After. Ghastly little witslight Gryffindor. I guess I do still hold a grudge. Who knew?"
"What, you mean besides me?" Roddy poked him in the nose. "Of course you hold a grudge. His father stole your wife. Of course, this all worked to my advantage, but I’m not one to brag… much…"
"Speaking of advantage, weren’t you supposed to be taking it of me?" Sev raised both eyebrows, to accent this dry comment, but his hands stayed where they were, betraying some remnant distrust of the situation.
"Oh, it’s to be all my job, now, is it? Getting to be a lazy git in your old age?" Roddy teased.
"My old age? You’re older than I am," Sev reminded him.
"Yes, but I’m still —" —beautiful. Roddy stopped in the middle of the sentence. "That’s not fair at all. You’ve much the face I’ve always loved, and more, even, since you’ve learned to wear it. You did that while I wasn’t looking, you sneaky git."
"No, I didn’t. That’s the Dementors talking." It was a cheap shot, and one of the only acts of flag-waving Sev’s ego would be allowed, that night.
"I tried so hard not to think of you. I didn’t want them taking that away from me."
"Shit’s sake, stop it. You’ll make me cry, and then I’ll have to make you sleep on the floor." Sev blinked a few times and finally moved his hands, flicking Roddy in the chest with one finger.
"I can count every time you’ve cried in front of me on one hand. If you do it again, I’ll run out of fingers, and then where will we be?" Roddy tried to pull himself back together, tried to put Azkaban out of his mind.
"Right back where we started." Sev moved Roddy’s hand onto his chest, holding it there. "I believe this is the part where I’m supposed to tell you to stop talking and kiss me."
"Blood and bones, I missed you." Roddy shifted his weight, wrapping one arm around Sev’s waist and squeezed the other hand between his head and the pillow, pulling Severus into a passionately possessive kiss.