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The Potion Master's Muse Challenges > Snape's Birthday

Remembrance Sunday by Obadiah Slope [Reviews - 7]


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Disclaimer: Everything that you don't recognise is mine. Having said that, if you haven't read my other story, 'Making Ends Meet', you probably won't fully understand the significance of the characters Rosie, Maximus and Leticia. This story is fairly simple, but the relationships between the main characters might be slightly confusing. A quick summary: Rosie is Severus' partner, Maximus is Snape's father (who, incidentally, does not fully approve of Muggle-born Rosie) and Leticia is Severus' sister! Hopefully, that makes things a little clearer!

A/N: I know I said that I would have no time to do this challenge at all, but I put off a lot of work that I should have done and got thinking about this challenge. This is my first challenge fic, and as a result of my inexperience, the beginning is rather more detailed than the end, but I hope that you enjoy it nevertheless!

Remembrance Sunday



Severus awoke to the sun blazing in through the curtains of his bedroom. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the light hurting his eyes. Rolling over, he looked at the clock on his bedside table and saw that it was ten o’clock.

Ten o’clock. He had slept in until ten o’clock! Thankfully, on this day, it was a Sunday, and he felt no need to be particularly shocked by this information. Had the day of his birth been any other, ordinary weekday, he would have been unfortunately rather late for work. It had happened before; Rosie had coaxed him into coming home for the night to keep her company. As a result, however, he had woken at just before nine in the morning and had to rush beyond all comprehension back down to the dungeons in order to teach his class.

However, today, there were other things on his mind. Today was his birthday. As loathsome as this day usually was (above all things, it meant that he was a year older), he suspected that this year was going to be different for him, in a very good way. Rosie had mentioned nothing to him on the subject, but he suspected that she was planning something for him. She wouldn’t have forgotten; she had never forgotten anything so close to him before – except that disastrous first date that they were supposed to have gone on, when they had arranged to go to London, only for Severus to find Rosie floozying off with Remus instead. But, nevertheless, Rosie was always concerned for his welfare and his happiness; she was bound to have something up her sleeve.

Severus smelt something suddenly: food. Rosie was obviously preparing breakfast, as was her wont. He always felt her cooking could be somewhat improved, but, on this day, it hardly mattered. It was the thought that counted, wasn’t it?

*

To say that Rosie was too preoccupied with Severus’ birthday to notice that the toast she was grilling was burning, was not only an understatement, it was a downright lie. Rosie had forgotten completely that it was even close to Severus’ birthday, and, at this point, she wasn’t even concerned with thinking about his day being a good one.

“Oh, shite!” cried Rosie, and leapt forward, pulling the toast out from under the grill; it was black. Sighing, she put the toast in the bin and started afresh.

After finally re-making her lover’s breakfast, she carried it carefully up the stairs, trying to soak the tea into the carpet as effectively as she could, so that it didn’t look as if she had spilt too much. As she reached their room, she leaned on the door and pushed her way into the room, finding, as she entered, a rather smug and cheery looking Severus staring at her.

“Ah,” he said, almost happily, Rosie noticed, “the day looks better already.”

Rosie frowned and looked at him curiously. Was he feeling well?

“You look remarkably chipper, considering what day it is today!” she said, smiling. Rosie, of course, was referring to the fact that it was Sunday, and that he was due to go back to Hogwarts – and away from her – tomorrow. Severus, of course, misinterpreted this.

He smiled at her. “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he said. “I’ve tried to be miserable, I assure you, but something felt – different this year. What have you got planned for me today, then?” Severus felt that he was being incredibly audacious in asking her this question, but he was excited to know what his first literal Happy Birthday would entail.

Rosie’s frown deepened. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, trying to evade the subject. There had obviously been some sort of misunderstanding. What does he mean – different this year?

He took the tray from her hands and put it to one side. After this task was completed, he bent his head and kissed her passionately with a fiery and demanding kiss. Rosie gasped and he took advantage of this, draping his tongue into her mouth and pulling her against him, tightly. Rosie moaned. Who cared if he was behaving strangely? If it produced this kind of result, she wanted more!

*

Severus appeared sedated. After a heavy, long and very rewarding session of lovemaking, he seemed to be dead to the world, and Rosie, after indeed surrendering to her wishes, had slept for a period. However, now her mind was alert and racing. There was something – not quite right with the way Severus was behaving. He had mumbled something about her being his ‘present’; at the time she had laughed, and smiled even more as she noticed the familiar red flush of embarrassment as he realised how ‘risqué’ his words sounded to him. Rosie looked to his face, which was facing the pillow, his long dark hair falling over his face, his mouth slightly open and his features relaxed. It was times when she saw her partner like this, that she truly realised how much she loved him. She leant over and kissed him gently on the nose that protruded from his obscuring hair, gently got out of bed and shrugged some clothes on.

It was as she went down the stairs that she heard something that made her heart stop. There was a noise coming from the front room and Rosie stopped, dead, on the staircase, listening hard. There it was again.

“What the hell?” questioned Rosie and mustered her courage and descended the stairs. Much as she did not want to go into the lounge, for fear of what was there, she braved the room and pushed the door open.

“Bloody hell!” she shouted as she saw whom it was who was in, what turned out to be, the fire in her living room. Maximus Snape was staring out at her from the flames, looking at her dishevelled clothes and mussed hair with some amusement.

“I’m glad that my son is having an enjoyable day,” he said, a smile playing around his lips. “May I come in?”

Rosie looked at him warily. Time had reduced the anger she felt towards him, though she still was intimidated by his presence. Yet, he didn’t seem to be in a foul mood; in fact, he seemed near enough cheery. What on Earth was the matter with the Snapes today?

“What do you want?” she asked as he clambered into the room.

“I’m just coming to see Severus. Just to wish him – congratulations.” His eyes raked her body and he smirked.

“Congra–?” she began, but at that moment, Leticia, his sister, appeared out of the fire.

“Oh!” she said softly, looking at her father. “I didn’t realise you would be here, as well. What a happy family gathering!” She smiled slyly at Rosie. “He always gets things first, you see,” she added, to Rosie.

Rosie looked from one to the other, he confusion growing.

“Right,” she said angrily, her hands on her hips. “You are all going to explain to me, right now, what you are doing here! You never come here! What on earth is going on?” She looked again between the pair, who were now glancing at each other, looking very surprised.

“Rosie,” said Leticia slowly. “It’s Severus’ birthday today.”

Rosie stopped dead, allowing the words to sink in. “You – what?” she asked breathlessly, realisation hitting her. How could she forget? “Oh my God!”

“I thought you of all people would have arranged something,” said Maximus.

The words that Severus had spoken to her, that had not made that much sense, clicked into her understand and she grimaced, feeling very, very foolish.

“But – I can’t bloody believe this!” she said, throwing up her hands. “I can’t believe it! I haven’t got him a present!”

Leticia smirked and Maximus raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s lucky that some of us are more organised that others,” Maximus said slowly. This infuriated Rosie more than she let on. How could some man who had abused his son dare to criticise her for not organising his birthday?

“Father,” scolded Leticia. “We are not here to blame,” she continued and Rosie laughed slightly. “After all, it was only two days ago that we, ourselves, remembered.”

“Albus Dumbledore did, though,” said Maximus.

Leticia nodded. “There’s some sort of party organised,” she said.

“You are absolutely kidding?” Rosie said, beginning to smile broadly. “You’re kidding?

“We rarely joke,” replied Maximus, though smirking. “Apparently it’s at eight thirty tonight, in the staffroom.”

Rosie’s face fell. “In the staffroom?” she asked glumly. “Oh, you are joking. It can’t be held there!”

“Well, I apologise,” replied Maximus. “If you wanted it in the Ritz, perhaps you should have put this date in your diary.”

Leticia hit her father. “For God’s sake, this is not the time!”

“Well, fine, then; whatever!” Rosie cried distractedly, she was tense all of a sudden and was desperate to sort out this mess. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Just – get him a cake, and I’ll go and grab him a present and a card. I’ll be back soon.”

“A cake?” Leticia asked disdainfully.

“Leticia,” said Rosie, “it is not often that anyone would force you to do anything you don’t want to; but this is just one of those times. I’m not going to a birthday party without there being a birthday cake.” Rosie walked towards the door, slinging on her coat as she went. “Oh, and make sure it’s chocolate!” She closed the door behind her and Maximus and Leticia, after sharing ominous glances, left the house.

At the top of the stairs, Severus grinned to himself. Birthday cake?

*

Rosie returned later that day with a present tucked under her arm and card in her hand. She entered the house, crept upstairs and deposited the present in a drawer. Making her way back down the stairs, she found her partner sitting in the front room perusing He Knew He Was Right, by Anthony Trollope.

“You were gone a long time,” he said flatly as she entered the room. Little did Rosie know that his heart was pumping furiously. What did she have planned for him?

Rosie’s heart, on the other hand, sank. Did he know about her mistake? Best not to mention anything.

“Listen, Severus, I know it’s your day off, but – can we go back to Hogwarts this evening? Dumbledore’s arranged a get-together – you know what he’s like, and I said that we’d go. I completely forgot about it until today.” Well, that was half of the truth.

“If I must,” he replied sullenly. Rosie sat down and put her face in her hands. Either he didn’t know, or he was pretending not to be happy about going. Either way, she didn’t know exactly what was planned, and she didn’t like lying to Severus – he always knew. He was always right in these matters.

*

And so the evening came and Severus was dragged up towards the castle by Rosie, who was still convinced that she had made a huge mistake and that she was going to pay for it. They entered the Entrance Hall and made their way up to the staffroom quietly, neither one talking. Rosie had his present in her handbag, and the hand that clasped his gloved one was sweating profusely. She only hoped that he couldn’t sense her dread – or that he misinterpreted it.

Please the latter, please the latter…

They approached the door of the staffroom and Rosie opened it cautiously. Please, for God’s sake, be all right – please, let this go all right. The door swung open and there was suddenly an uproar of noise. Rosie took a step backwards and Severus looked immensely surprised as Minerva, Sprout and Trelawney – all completely plastered by the looks of things – grabbed Severus by the arms and dragged him into the room.

Rosie followed Severus; as she did she head the chant of “Happy Birthday, Severus!” resounding throughout the room. Severus stiffened visibly and braced himself against the barrage of people wrestling to get near him, and to wish him good wishes for the next year.

Severus looked visibly upset as he was dragged around the room and it was all Rosie could do to not take him straight back out of the room. She hadn’t realised, stupidly, that this was the kind of thing that her partner loathed. Why hadn’t any of the others though of it either?

“My dear boy,” said Dumbledore happily and Severus scowled. “How are we today of all days? Dear me, you do look grim considering it’s your birthday! Are you ill? I insist that Rosie gives you a thorough once over later on this evening,” he said, his eyes twinkling. Severus tried to ignore the crass implications of the slightly merry man, but it was hard when all of his colleagues were standing around laughing.

“So, Severus,” chirped Sprout tipsily, pressing a glass of punch into his hand. “Wasn’t it the big four-oh this year?”

“No,” he bit back angrily.

“Ah, come on,” she continued. “We’re all friends here! You’re getting older like the rest of us! Soon Rosie’ll be moving on to a newer model. So, four-oh, eh? Doesn’t that make your testicles shrivel a bit?”

Severus’ lips curled dramatically. “Well, as you would shrivel the testicles of any man you had intimate contact with, I suppose you would be the oracle on these matters.” She stepped away from him. “Please leave me alone.”

The rest of the party passed dreadfully, with Severus passed around the room by every occupant. There weren’t even any gifts for the poor man and he seemed absolutely lost. However, the cake that Maximus and Leticia had bought seemed to be a success, though not with Severus. He looked morosely at it, as though it, too, had offended him.

As the party drew to a close, at about two in the morning, Severus and Rosie were left with the mess. Rosie was just complaining when Severus said gently, “It hardly matters; I prefer to celebrate in private, anyway.”

Rosie smiled and went up to him, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry. I thought that they could be trusted with this. It was awful.”

He grimaced and looked sorely disappointed. “I’ll go down to my room,” he said and traipsed away. Rosie watched him and saw him take a small piece of birthday cake, when he thought she was elsewhere occupied, and take a bite.

*

It was as Rosie entered the room that she felt she should try and make things up to him. He was lying in bed, not looking at her, though Rosie knew that he had noticed her entrance. Rosie sighed; it seemed that she was destined for a rather cold night.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said again as she nestled under the covers with him. He was reading a book and refused to look at her. “Look, Severus, I really am sorry! If I’d known – well, I’d have arranged something a little more – intimate.” She looked down and the book he was reading and gasped: it was the book that she had bought him for his birthday. He seemed pleased with her purchase of an ancient poorly-bound Victorian version of King Lear. Rosie had noted that her partner had always seemed fascinated by the Victorian culture (if his clothes conveyed anything), and seeing a fully edited, and changed-to-suit-the-culture, version of Lear in a bookshop near her home meant that she simply had to buy it for him.

“Where did you find that?” she gasped. He gestured to her handbag lying on the floor of his room.

Severus spoke as though there had been no interruption from Rosie’s first comment. “I must admit, though, it was rather amusing to see Minerva absolutely footless. I don’t remember ever seeing that before.”

Rosie looked at him, surprised. “But – you seem–?”

“What?” he enquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Happy,” Rosie stated, smiling at him.

“Rosie,” he asked earnestly. “How did you know that I would like this book?” he said, waving Lear at her.

Rosie frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been looking for this for absolutely ages; I’ve always loved the way the Victorians somehow turned this absolute tragedy into a comedy, of sorts. Where did you get it?”

“How long have you been looking?” asked Rosie, ignoring his question that she was sure he didn’t mind remaining unanswered.

He pondered the question for some while before saying, “I don’t know. I suppose, twenty years or so.”

Rosie gasped and then smiled. “Determined,” she mumbled softly, running her fingers lovingly through his hair. “The one true quality of a Capricorn – I never knew you were one, by the way,” she added gently.

Severus smirked. “But of course I’m a Capricorn. Was there any doubt?” He kissed her. “I’m selfish, serious, easily offended–”

“Hard-working – they’re only made up traits!” Rosie laughed. She bent to kiss him, but he suddenly withdrew from her, looking darkly at her.

“What do you mean you had no idea I was a Capricorn?” he asked, frowning. “When did you find out?”

Rosie gritted her teeth and prepared herself for some serious explaining; he was not going to be pleased. “Today,” she said slowly. “I’m really sorry; I had no idea! That’s why the party was a bit – well, bollocks, really; I had no time to organise –” She fell silent at the stony look on his face.

There was silence as Severus gazed at Rosie incredulously. The silence became too much and Rosie was about to apologise profusely yet again, but, before she had the chance, he smiled and laughed at her, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I actually can’t believe how awful this day has been. I expected it to be the best birthday I’d ever had.” He looked at her pointedly. “It shows you I was right with my dreary theories of expecting the least: everything always seems so much better in that situation.”

Rosie smiled pityingly at him. “I really am –”

But he cut her off by pouncing and pinning her down, flat, on the mattress and kissing her hungrily. Oh, thought Rosie. Perhaps he’s not that pissed off, after all!

“Stop apologising!” he demanded before dropping his voice to a low purr. “However, Miss Watermouth, if you are so inclined, I will make sure that you serve your punishment for this gross miscalculation. Starting now.

It turned out to be a very long, and very enjoyable punishment, indeed.


Challenge Rules

The Laydown:

It’s Snape’s birthday! How will he spend the day?

The Rules:
· Must be written in 60 minutes or less—including editing! (Like the 30 minute fics on LJ only longer).
· May include Snape paired up with an OFC or Female from Harry Potter who is not a student (no, you may NOT pair up Snape with Hermione from the future!), but not necessary.
· Can involve his peers
· Must show how Snape spends his birthday (celebration, or lack thereof)
· Must include at least one comment from Dumbledore that Snape will find annoying

Include at least 3 of the following:

o Snape saying “But of course I’m a Capricorn. Was there any doubt?”
o A bevy of TPMM members (or similar) queuing up to wish him well.
o Snape scoffing at receiving a birthday cake, but secretly eats a piece when no one is
looking
o Snape saying “I prefer to celebrate in private.”
o Snape saying “If I must.”
o Draco Malfoy bursting into Snape’s office at an inopportune moment
o Someone makes a joke about Snape’s age…and suffers for it
o Minerva McGonagall being a Libra
o Snape receiving an embarrassing number of birthday owls




Remembrance Sunday by Obadiah Slope [Reviews - 7]


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