Wild Magic.

Dec. 1st, 2015 04:20 pm
pekeleke: (Default)
[personal profile] pekeleke

Title: Wild Magic.

Fandom: Harry Potter (Snarry)

Characters: Harry Potter, Severus Snape.

Author: pekeleke.

Rating: G.

Word count: 665

Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. No money is being made out of this work.

A/N1: Unbetaed. Written for the adventdrabbles (DW,LJ, IJ) 2015 Prompt 1: Winter sunrise. Prompt 2: Snowball fight.

A/N2: This is the first part of my Black Smoke series.

Summary: Severus Snape despised children with the same kind of overzealous fervor with which Minerva Mcgonagal despised miniskirts, Filius Flitwick abhorred mountain giants and the annoying Savior Of The Wizarding World hated his never-ending fame.

Wild Magic.

 

Severus Snape despised children with the same kind of overzealous fervor with which Minerva Mcgonagal despised miniskirts, Filius Flitwick abhorred mountain giants and the annoying Savior Of The Wizarding World, whose awful little pest of a godchild was actually responsible for the giant pickle that Severus' existence had just become, hated his never-ending fame.

He'd have thoroughly despised any precocious child whose random bout of wild magic had managed to affect him in any way whatsoever, but the fact that the brat in question happened to be Lupin's offspring, and that he'd been dangling from Harry-Bloody-Potter's begloved hand like some sort of grotesquely overstuffed little kite when the unthinkable happened only made the situation more intolerable.

He'd been strolling down the road, basket in hand, quietly admiring the lovely winter sunrise and thinking about the warm cup of tea that awaited him back home, when he'd first caught sight of the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Talk-Ridiculously-Loudly about the early morning snowball fight he was planing to have with his giggling sidekick down at Snidget Park. He hadn't paid much attention to their boisterous approach after his initial disparaging head-shake, and had already started to turn the corner into Knockturn Alley proper, when he'd been forcibly transformed into a ruddy tabby kitten, of all things, by a stray flare of childish wild magic.

The painful -and heavily frowned upon- human to animal transfiguration spell had been executed so flawlessly -and so dammed fast- by the child's uncontrolled power that Severus hadn't even seen it coming, least of all had enough time to either deflect it or cast a shield over the delicate jars he was carrying, which were, unfortunately, filled with extra-strength, twice distilled, Empowering Potion. The jars broke as the basket hit the floor, splashing him mid-transformation with the potent brew, thus condemning his magically changing body to remain in its thoroughly unwelcome -and uncomfortably vulnerable- new feline form until the potion that now matted his dark fur, plastering it unpleasantly to his shivering skin, began to lose enough strength for him to cast a successful counter-curse.

Hissing vexedly in displeasure at his untenable predicament, Severus tried to struggle to his feet but was too weak to manage it. He was so busy panicking that his ears failed to both pick up and correctly interpret the pounding sound of hastily approaching footsteps until it was way too late to hide from both the wide-eyed child who'd cursed him and his equally wide-eyed companion.
Professor? Professor Snape, Sir? Are you-C-Can you…? Oh, Merlin, you're hurt!” Potter squeaked frantically, manly rough voice cracking like a staticky radio-wave as he witnessed Severus' second attempt -and failure- at getting his unfamiliar, weak, little legs to work. “Let me help you. Please. It's the least I can do.”

Severus' pride stung when Potter's shaking hand curled around him, lifting him up into a pair of strong arms he'd have never in a million years allowed to close around him, had he been in his rightful form. He tried to hiss, but the sound came out small and strangled, betraying his new body's intolerable inability to hide its vulnerability.

My thorry. My magic turned ya into a lil' kitty-cat, Profethor Nape, Thir. But I diddin want to. Twas an accedent.” Young master Lupin whispered contritely, patting Severus' potion-soaked head with a mitten-covered hand, and he'd have hissed his displeasure anew at the unseemly familiarity of such treatment if Potter hadn't picked that very moment to compound the child's faux pas by running a soothing hand over his instinctively arching back, startling him so badly that he reared backwards and would have toppled right out of the Savior's arms if said Savior's much boasted about seeker reflexes hadn't saved the day.

Calm down, please. It's alright, kitty-er… profe-Severus. There’s no need to raise your hackles. We mean you no harm. You're safe with us, and we're going to fix this, I promise. You'll be back to your usual snarky self in a flash. You'll see...”

TBC.

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