Iulia Linnea (iulia_linnea) wrote in snapecase,
Iulia Linnea

ART & FIC: Fifty (G)

Title: Fifty
Type: Art & Fic
Age-Range Category: Five
Characters: Severus Snape, …?
Artist & Author: mywitch & grooot
Beta(s): too_dle_oo
Rating: G
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): None.
Summary: Today is Severus Snape's fiftieth birthday. Will it be a good day?

There was a shard of sunlight burrowing through the blackout curtains into Severus's eye and dragging him out of something approximating sleep.

For a few moments, Severus was unsure where he was. The light in his eye could be the window blind at St Mungo's that was habitually left open near his bed. There had been a crack in the glass that always managed to refract the outside light right into his face. He'd mentioned it once to a passing Healer who'd rolled her eyes at him and hadn't returned.

Fifty, 1 (G)
Click here (and then click again) to view full-size image.

Because of the injury to his neck, he hadn't been able to move his head, and therefore was forced to spend each morning blinking his eyes at the piercing intrusion. As the sun meandered across the sky, the light had also moved on, leaving him with a lingering, throbbing headache. He hadn't complained about it after the first time. Why bother? After all, the Healers seemed largely irritated by his presence. Good intentions didn't appear to get one very far at the end of the day. The mark on his arm said everything anyone cared to know, despite sporadic appearances from Ministry officials who assured him that his "alliances" during the war were under review.

Under review.

How very bureaucratic and not even remotely reassuring it had all been.

During the second week of his confinement, he was grimacing on the bed, knowing he only had an hour or so left of the light when there was a sound of sweeping fabric and then blessed relief from the glare.

"That looked really annoying," a voice had said from the window. "Why was it open?"

He'd looked as far right as his peripheral vision could see, and although his eyes were still adjusting to the new darkened room, he could make out a smiling figure holding a book as they turned from the curtains.

"Hello," they'd said. "I thought you might like some company."

He hadn't known what to say, so he hadn't said anything. But despite his silence, they'd stayed the whole day with him, and the next.

And the next.

When he was discharged and sent home to Spinner's End, they were still there. And they were there for the trial, for the verdict, and for the always endless questions, questions, questions.

In fact, they never left.

He assumed initially that it was pity. He couldn't really see any other reason for their continued presence. After the first month of smiles, laughs, and the like, he decided it was probably a misplaced sense of responsibility. They'd decided to atone for something. Severus didn't know what it was, but he was fairly sure it was more imagined than real.

He'd had enough of it by the second month, and informed them that their penance was paid in full and they could cease and desist.


It had turned out Severus hasn't been as astute at reading the situation as he had congratulated himself as being. They had firmly set him straight that their intentions were wholly personal, described some staggeringly inventive activities they wanted to do with him, and stalked out of the house.

They'd returned of course and then, well, there was nothing left to do but a trial run of the aforementioned activities.


That had been over ten years ago.

Severus opened his eyes, and above him was a white ceiling, the pristine nature of which immediately indicated he was not at St Mungo's. The lazily circling ceiling fan similarly cancelled out Spinner's End as his current location.

Severus rolled over and exhaled a large sigh that quickly turned into a yawn and a bone-cracking stretch. He reached out an arm, but there were only empty sheets beside him. Severus blinked to himself and sat up. The room had the artificial chill of the air conditioner, but he didn't mind it so much. It was less effort than remembering to recast charms every few hours.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched again. He looked down to discover he was no longer wearing his grey pyjamas, but instead was sporting a bright pink shirt with an adorable kitten proclaiming "It's my purrrthday!" on the front. He looked further down where he appeared to also be wearing the matching pants to the top.

He frowned.

He looked at the wall where a large banner with smiling contortionist snakes spelled out the words "Happy Birthday."

His frown deepened.

Severus stood up and walked from the bedroom into the outer room, but it was as empty as the room he had just left. There was an enormous glass of pineapple juice in the middle of a counter and a plate of slightly steaming roti canai. A handwritten note propped up against the glass proclaimed, "Eat me." Severus eyed it suspiciously before deciding to do what it said.

After breakfast he decided to go down to the water, so he went back into the room to grab his bathers.

He discovered the cupboard was completely bare except for a pair of bathers that definitely were not his. His were black. These were a bright, luminous green and spotted with anthropomorphic pineapples playing saxophones. A note next to the bathers read, "Wear me."

Severus closed the cupboard.



A quick yet futile search quickly identified that his wand was missing. He sighed. He was on holiday. He just didn't want to bother with wandless magic, birthday or not, lurid green bathers or not. Severus returned to the cupboard and reopened the door. The bathers were still there, as was the helpfully instructive note.

Fifty, 2 (G)
Click here (and then click again) to view full-size image.

Ten minutes later Severus and the extroverted green bathers walked towards the ocean. There were no waves here in the Andaman Sea. Just oddly warm water that he almost couldn't distinguish from the moist air. He walked in until the water reached his chest, then lay back and let himself float languidly in the water. As he floated, he stared up into the hazy, blue sky. A brief blast of fat, tepid raindrops further blurred his ability to distinguish between sea and sky.

Severus closed his eyes in pleasure.

After a while he walked back to shore and lay—still salty from the ocean—in the hammock that swung enticingly out the front of the villa.

He closed his eyes as he rocked gently from side to side until it was stilled.

Two hands moved over his eyes, and he smiled.

"Mmmmm, I like the way those bathers look on you." He heard the throaty laugh hidden in the voice.

"Not very dignified for a man my age," he countered.

There was a more obvious laugh."No. Not dignified… But definitely sexy," they said.

"Fifty years young," Severus suggested.

"Definitely," laughed the voice again.

Severus felt a pair of lips against his neck. "Steady on."

"I can't help it. You smell like pineapple. My favourite."

"That explains the bathers," said Severus.

"These are a few of my favourite things," the voice sang.

Severus smiled as a hand started to stray down his body. He stilled it, holding it in his."I love you," he said before he realised what his brain had been planning.

"I love you, too."

He pulled at the arm and there was an explosion of laughing as they fell onto the hammock with him and the two of them lay there quietly together, entwined, as the day passed.

Inside Severus, somewhere deep down that he thought had been lost forever, something small uncurled itself tentatively and began to sing its golden song.

Fifty, 3 (G)
Click here (and then click again) to view full-size image.
Tags: artist: mywitch, author: grooot, category: five, type: art, type: art & fic, type: fic
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