teddy_radiator | For kellychambliss - Thanks for the Inspiration (Reply)

kellychambliss , has been submitting some lovely Severus/Minerva fic lately, along with some other Minerva pairings that are just superb. She also submitted a rec in second person, which of course made me mad to try it. Can you tell I'm desperately avoiding Chapter 20 of LayMeLow?

Anyhoo, although it's not my usual ship, it is one that I like to board now and again, because it feels like a kin-ship, or at least, at friend-ship to my own Flagship, SS/HG. This is a drabble series, and I hope she enjoys it. Of course, I hope you will, too.

Fiendfyre

Length: 8 X 100

Characters: Minerva/Severus

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the tears I will cry in July.

It’s on nights like this you burn, remembering smoldering eyes and pale skin that glows silver in the dark. You burn, incandescent as Fiendfyre, recalling his liquid, silken voice and hands that played across your skin, cataloging every shiver, every whimper, every sigh you gave him. You remember his dour pleasure at making you cry out his name.

There is nothing left of him now but your memories, the long nights spent remembering the cold, dark hours before dawn, when he crept away, not wanting you to be associated with him now.

You sit up in bed and cry.

~~~~~

He hasn’t come to you in weeks, nor have you expected him. It doesn’t mean you don’t miss his prickly, urgent, fiery passion, feverish between sheets.

You figured it out long before you confronted him. He was mentally on his last legs, holding it together, keeping the Carrows and the Death Eaters at bay, while you urged your unruly House against vigilantism and revolt.

You knew it would come to this, and even as you almost dragged him into an empty classroom and started warding it like Gringotts, he knew you enough to know what you were going to say.

~~~~~

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, knowing you sound desperate and fearful, and knowing he’ll shut you out, because he has to. He has to be the enemy now, even though you are no more his enemy than Hagrid.

He sighs. “What was I supposed to say, Min? Give me leg-up, Our Kid; I’ve just become the most hated man in our world and I need your shoulder to cry on?” He sneers, and you love him a little, even for that. “You know I couldn’t reveal what was going on. Albus – “

“Fuck Albus!” you cry. He laughs.

~~~~~

“I probably would’ve if I thought it might’ve gotten me out of this,” he says.

“I could have helped you,” you say, stubbornly. He laughs sadly, shaking his head.

“Oh, Min, you’re the worst liar there is. You’re an even worse actor. I couldn’t risk getting you involved. You’d tell the entire school.”

You huff, but you know he’s right. He’s always been right when you were concerned, even when he was wrong.

“That’s, right, old girl,” he says in that tone of voice; the one that makes you do things you’ve never done to another man. “You know it.”

~~~~~

You regard each other for a moment, trying to think of something comforting to say. Then he crushes you to his breast.

“When the time comes, forget me. Forget you loved me. Forget my bed,” he whispers, and his desperate, pleading tone almost spirals you down through the floor with pain.

“I can’t do that.” You cry, knowing you’ll have to. Slowly he pulls away, and you let go reluctantly, like a child unwilling to be parted from your dad.

“Thank you, Min,” he says. “Believe me, it helps.” He turns, and schools his expression. “You know what to do.”

~~~~~

You nod, knowing it will almost kill you. “Drop your wards, Lass,” he says, sounding like a loving, indulgent parent.

Then he's out of the room; a bird of prey thundering down the hall, leaving frightened children in his wake. It is intentional. You will soothe them; they will remember this moment.

You scream after him, “I will NEVER forgive you for this, Severus Snape! NEVER!”

You watch him stride away, knowing his heart is breaking because you can hear the sound of it, crying in harmony with your own crumbling heart.

You look at the young people standing there.

~~~~~

“Well, what are you looking at?” you say, putting anger and helplessness in your voice. It isn’t that hard to manufacture. “Get back to your classes!” Nobody moves.

“GO!” you scream, ashamed of showing such weakness. Severus was right; you’re just not cut out for espionage.

You will see each other one last time before the end. He is weary, sick with the strain, and he stumbles into your arms one night, weeping and frightened. You comfort him as best you can, but he’s already fading away; he is almost gone even as he pulls himself over you like a blanket.

The battle is almost over, and you fight him like your life depends on it, which it does. Even as he swoops, diving with the grace of a dancer, you sense his heart isn’t in it. It’s already with that little ginger Muggle girl he fancied all those years ago; you know you’ve always only been a substitute.

But now, years later, as the fire crackles and the wind blows from the North, you burn, remembering that for a few brief moments, you held him, and you burned - as brightly and beautifully, as incandescently as Fiendfyre in his hands.