A little piece of Snape Manor
May. 12th, 2003 09:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
icarusMore teasing. Don't read if you don't like teasers.
A chapter from Snape Manor, part-way through. This is being written out of order. Heh. Of course, that's how Primer to the Dark Arts was written, too.
Auror Academy
by Icarus
Harry walked cautiously past the blocks and blocks of the barracks at the Auror Academy. They were identical, frighteningly clean and even the flags in front of each tin building flew at crisp attention. He edged aside as a formation of uniformed men jogged past, ignoring him as though he was a shrubbery. It was a little hard to imagine easy-going Ron here.
Auror enlistment had increased dramatically, to hunt down Voldemort's scattered supporters. Like ancient Roman times, it was a perfect opportunity for men from poorer families to come up in the world. Not to mention it was really cool! But up close it looked, well -- tough.
Beyond the buildings was a large stone pit, the size of a Quidditch pitch, which according Ron's letters the men called, simply enough, "The Pit." While the barracks were relatively new, the ragged flagstone-lined pit, with its underground labyrinthine caverns leading through archways to this open Arena had stood for hundreds of years; it fairly hummed with centuries of magical backwash and set Harry's teeth on edge. There, Aurors drilled in the semi-dangerous magics, the dampening charms in the walls soaked up the more deadly spells that missed their targets. Now, in the twilight orange and purple sparks flew out of the pit, and sizzled in the grass. Ron was supposed to be here practicing with his unit at this hour. They drilled as a team without their instructor several times a week, led by their chosen unit leader.
Ron was explicit that Harry not Apparate inside the Pit. Since unexpected timed Apparition drills played a major role in their tactics, it was not warded against it. Harry hardly needed the warning.
Harry leaned against the stone parapet surrounding it, and watched as ten men far below suddenly Disapparated. Nine of them appeared, moments later, encircling a target. The tenth appeared, late, and clearly out of position. While Harry couldn't hear what the commander said as he approached their straggler, the way the man snapped to attention it was obviously blistering. He really hoped that wasn't Ron.
Finally, the men backed away, saluted their team leader, and then relaxed; they began to mill about, picking up equipment and drinking from hip flasks. Gradually, one by one, they Disapparated and appeared along the rim of the Pit. Ron appeared several meters away, and Harry smiled.
"Harry!" Ron waved and jogged over, his voice as loud and gruff as a Quidditch player's after hours of flying, "I can't believe how many times I've had to tell Lloyd to watch for my signal! Bloody weak link. A dragon could've got through the hole he left!"
He continued with his cheerful dissection of 'Lloyd' as he led Harry towards the barracks, "need a shower — I stink like a rhino," and Harry blinked, mentally adjusting to the realisation that Ron was the team leader. Ron hadn't mentioned that in his letters. Harry skipped a little to keep up with Ron's long strides. Ron was out of the habit of hovering behind or next to Harry, but didn't notice.
"I can't wait for everyone to meet you!" Ron enthused. He boomed at two men in T-shirts, who had various odd items strapped in shoulder and leg holsters and leaned precariously in skinny chairs by Ron's barracks. "Hey, you lazy bastards. Stand up for the war hero. I've got Harry Potter here, come to visit you, yeah. 'Cause you're shittiest blokes in camp — he needs an example of what not to do." They laughed. Aside, Ron whispered to Harry: "I know you hate this hero crap, but let's get it over with, quick, and then we can get out of here. You know they're gonna to do it anyway."
So Harry endured a good twenty minutes of showing them his scar while Ron took a shower. This group however seemed more interested in the mechanics of the spell thrown and how they could dodge it. That and showing him their own scars, which they explained in detail. Harry enjoyed himself immensely, seeing more naked, tanned, well-muscled skin on these eager men than he had in, well….
There was a high color to his cheeks by the time Ron emerged, wrapped in a towel. When Ron saw what was going on, he smirked. Harry shot him a heated grin, and nodded absently at some story he wasn't listening to, as told by a short, stocky man with overbuilt muscles who tugged down his collar to reveal a thin scar… his shoulder rippled smoothly as he turned, and he arched slightly. Harry decided he needed to visit Ron more often.
A loud dinner bell clanged over the camp. The men suddenly moved with quick cheerful good-byes and disappeared like a stampede.
"Did any of them have a scar on their arse?" Ron laughed, buttoning a new shirt. He had leave this evening so ignored the bell.
Harry leaned against the barracks wall and grinned. "I was waiting for it. No such luck."
Ron chuckled and tucked in his shirt. "I'm not used to wearing these civilian clothes. Auror robes have so many spells in them it's like putting on one of Fred's firecracker belts. I keep waiting for a button to explode or some such."
Harry gave his friend a once over. "You look good, Ron."
"Don't look at me like that. I don't have a scar on my arse either." But Ron winked at him as he tucked his shirt in.
Ron didn't look good — he looked great, Harry decided. He looked like the same tall, skinny kid with freckles, but something was subtly different. A lot of things were subtly different. He seemed taller for one thing. Harry realised Ron stood straight now, though Harry had never noticed before that he slouched. But there was also an air of cocky confidence about him, a solidity that came from knowing his path in life and done well at it. Better than he'd said, actually. These men clearly respected him. Harry felt a brief stab of jealousy and shucked it aside as unworthy. It wasn't Ron's fault Harry was stuck in another man's life, stuck in his past. These men were so fresh and alive — and Harry's age. Harry wondered if he smelled like dust and rotting furniture. It seemed to have worked its way into his veins. He still felt covered in cobwebs, even though he knew he was clean.
"So. Where are we gonna eat?" Ron interrupted, looking at Harry curiously. Harry realised he'd been standing there silent, lost in his thoughts for a long minute. You could do that at Snape Manor; not in the real world. Harry shook himself.
"Someplace loud," Harry said. "With lots and lots of people. I don't care if they serve octopus and make you catch it yourself."
Ron laughed. "I know a place like that. But how 'bout Mexican instead?"
~*~*~
Harry and Ron clomped up the long, winding fire escape stairs to Ron's apartment — well, the apartment he shared with a number of the men in his barracks. They all staggered their leave so they could each have the place to themselves.
'Sky High Apartments' was a wizarding residence built on top of a Muggle apartment complex. About fifteen stories up, invisible to Muggles, the mass of wizarding dwellings began, sticking out at all angles. Since everyone wanted a corner unit, the builders managed to provide them. It made for one very strange-looking structure. But as Ron put it, "hey, it looks weird, but I've a corner apartment."
Normally Ron Apparated to his place like everyone else, but with Harry's suspended Apparations license they were forced to walk. Harry was grateful Snape Manor had so much physical labor involved. He wasn't winded until the eighth floor.
"What do you need an apartment for?" Harry had laughed, back at the restaurant. Ron gave him a Look, and Harry realised what a stupid question that was. And laughed some more. He wasn't drunk, just starved for… this. Whatever it was.
It certainly gave Harry some pause though, that Ron was taking him here. Ron knew he was involved. But he'd never approved of it either. And his attitudes had definitely changed, though Harry didn't know how or when. Though he could guess why. Harry was winded for more than one reason. He beat back those whirling, hopeful thoughts. Traitorous thoughts, though they didn't feel like that now. They felt right. And dazzling.
Finally they slipped in through a window, and walked down a dingy, darkened hallway. There was glow-in-the-dark graffiti on the walls, 'Hepzibah wuz here', and one of the neighbors had enchanted a perpetual fountain to run down their front door; another had a small willow tree that sprouted from the door frame. Ron didn't even notice it, skirted the puddle without a second thought glance. His door was at the end. Even without a detection spell Harry could tell there were layers of wardings, Dark detectors and locking charms on it. Ron muttered a variety of spells, just to get in.
"Old Moody taught me a lot of these," Ron grinned, a trifle embarrassed. "Advanced stuff they haven't taught us at the Academy yet. Most of them are lethal, so it'll just be a second. You can't be too careful."
"Constant Vigilance!" Harry teased. But he was impressed.
"Sh!" said Ron, with a mischievous grin. "The old witch across the hall is a piece of work. Been trying to get us out thrown out for months. We deserve it of course," he laughed, "but I rather like this place. My first, you know? Sort of anyway."
Harry suppressed another surge of envy. He'd never considered how nice it would be just to strike out on your own. Everything he had really belonged to Severus. But he didn't want to think of Severus right now.
The door opened, and Ron's hand accidentally brushed against Harry's shoulder like a whisper. Harry shivered, every nerve alive as he turned to Ron. He felt the room come to life with sudden movement behind him. Ron's face fell. The door shut. Harry saw stars, as he was slammed, hard against the wall. He was aware his ears rang, dimly, distant and confused. The back of his head throbbed wetly, where he had hit something. Hit something? What? But he couldn't speak, he squirmed under Ron's unnatural strength. Help….
"Who are you?" Ron's face was angry. Harry registered the wand at his face; he couldn't answer: Ron's forearm choked off his breath. "What have you done with Harry?"
Can't breathe…. Harry struggled.
Ron voiced two spells Harry had never heard at Hogwarts, and Harry was bound head to foot in invisible bands as tight as steel. And he couldn't call out or speak.
Then the lights went on in the flat. Over Ron's shoulder Harry now saw an array of Dark Detectors that would have made Mad-Eye Moody proud.
They were all pointing at Harry.
Finis.
Also worked on 'Name Dropping,' Part Two of 'Reunion.' Will drop that in (ha-ha) later.
A chapter from Snape Manor, part-way through. This is being written out of order. Heh. Of course, that's how Primer to the Dark Arts was written, too.
Auror Academy
by Icarus
Harry walked cautiously past the blocks and blocks of the barracks at the Auror Academy. They were identical, frighteningly clean and even the flags in front of each tin building flew at crisp attention. He edged aside as a formation of uniformed men jogged past, ignoring him as though he was a shrubbery. It was a little hard to imagine easy-going Ron here.
Auror enlistment had increased dramatically, to hunt down Voldemort's scattered supporters. Like ancient Roman times, it was a perfect opportunity for men from poorer families to come up in the world. Not to mention it was really cool! But up close it looked, well -- tough.
Beyond the buildings was a large stone pit, the size of a Quidditch pitch, which according Ron's letters the men called, simply enough, "The Pit." While the barracks were relatively new, the ragged flagstone-lined pit, with its underground labyrinthine caverns leading through archways to this open Arena had stood for hundreds of years; it fairly hummed with centuries of magical backwash and set Harry's teeth on edge. There, Aurors drilled in the semi-dangerous magics, the dampening charms in the walls soaked up the more deadly spells that missed their targets. Now, in the twilight orange and purple sparks flew out of the pit, and sizzled in the grass. Ron was supposed to be here practicing with his unit at this hour. They drilled as a team without their instructor several times a week, led by their chosen unit leader.
Ron was explicit that Harry not Apparate inside the Pit. Since unexpected timed Apparition drills played a major role in their tactics, it was not warded against it. Harry hardly needed the warning.
Harry leaned against the stone parapet surrounding it, and watched as ten men far below suddenly Disapparated. Nine of them appeared, moments later, encircling a target. The tenth appeared, late, and clearly out of position. While Harry couldn't hear what the commander said as he approached their straggler, the way the man snapped to attention it was obviously blistering. He really hoped that wasn't Ron.
Finally, the men backed away, saluted their team leader, and then relaxed; they began to mill about, picking up equipment and drinking from hip flasks. Gradually, one by one, they Disapparated and appeared along the rim of the Pit. Ron appeared several meters away, and Harry smiled.
"Harry!" Ron waved and jogged over, his voice as loud and gruff as a Quidditch player's after hours of flying, "I can't believe how many times I've had to tell Lloyd to watch for my signal! Bloody weak link. A dragon could've got through the hole he left!"
He continued with his cheerful dissection of 'Lloyd' as he led Harry towards the barracks, "need a shower — I stink like a rhino," and Harry blinked, mentally adjusting to the realisation that Ron was the team leader. Ron hadn't mentioned that in his letters. Harry skipped a little to keep up with Ron's long strides. Ron was out of the habit of hovering behind or next to Harry, but didn't notice.
"I can't wait for everyone to meet you!" Ron enthused. He boomed at two men in T-shirts, who had various odd items strapped in shoulder and leg holsters and leaned precariously in skinny chairs by Ron's barracks. "Hey, you lazy bastards. Stand up for the war hero. I've got Harry Potter here, come to visit you, yeah. 'Cause you're shittiest blokes in camp — he needs an example of what not to do." They laughed. Aside, Ron whispered to Harry: "I know you hate this hero crap, but let's get it over with, quick, and then we can get out of here. You know they're gonna to do it anyway."
So Harry endured a good twenty minutes of showing them his scar while Ron took a shower. This group however seemed more interested in the mechanics of the spell thrown and how they could dodge it. That and showing him their own scars, which they explained in detail. Harry enjoyed himself immensely, seeing more naked, tanned, well-muscled skin on these eager men than he had in, well….
There was a high color to his cheeks by the time Ron emerged, wrapped in a towel. When Ron saw what was going on, he smirked. Harry shot him a heated grin, and nodded absently at some story he wasn't listening to, as told by a short, stocky man with overbuilt muscles who tugged down his collar to reveal a thin scar… his shoulder rippled smoothly as he turned, and he arched slightly. Harry decided he needed to visit Ron more often.
A loud dinner bell clanged over the camp. The men suddenly moved with quick cheerful good-byes and disappeared like a stampede.
"Did any of them have a scar on their arse?" Ron laughed, buttoning a new shirt. He had leave this evening so ignored the bell.
Harry leaned against the barracks wall and grinned. "I was waiting for it. No such luck."
Ron chuckled and tucked in his shirt. "I'm not used to wearing these civilian clothes. Auror robes have so many spells in them it's like putting on one of Fred's firecracker belts. I keep waiting for a button to explode or some such."
Harry gave his friend a once over. "You look good, Ron."
"Don't look at me like that. I don't have a scar on my arse either." But Ron winked at him as he tucked his shirt in.
Ron didn't look good — he looked great, Harry decided. He looked like the same tall, skinny kid with freckles, but something was subtly different. A lot of things were subtly different. He seemed taller for one thing. Harry realised Ron stood straight now, though Harry had never noticed before that he slouched. But there was also an air of cocky confidence about him, a solidity that came from knowing his path in life and done well at it. Better than he'd said, actually. These men clearly respected him. Harry felt a brief stab of jealousy and shucked it aside as unworthy. It wasn't Ron's fault Harry was stuck in another man's life, stuck in his past. These men were so fresh and alive — and Harry's age. Harry wondered if he smelled like dust and rotting furniture. It seemed to have worked its way into his veins. He still felt covered in cobwebs, even though he knew he was clean.
"So. Where are we gonna eat?" Ron interrupted, looking at Harry curiously. Harry realised he'd been standing there silent, lost in his thoughts for a long minute. You could do that at Snape Manor; not in the real world. Harry shook himself.
"Someplace loud," Harry said. "With lots and lots of people. I don't care if they serve octopus and make you catch it yourself."
Ron laughed. "I know a place like that. But how 'bout Mexican instead?"
~*~*~
Harry and Ron clomped up the long, winding fire escape stairs to Ron's apartment — well, the apartment he shared with a number of the men in his barracks. They all staggered their leave so they could each have the place to themselves.
'Sky High Apartments' was a wizarding residence built on top of a Muggle apartment complex. About fifteen stories up, invisible to Muggles, the mass of wizarding dwellings began, sticking out at all angles. Since everyone wanted a corner unit, the builders managed to provide them. It made for one very strange-looking structure. But as Ron put it, "hey, it looks weird, but I've a corner apartment."
Normally Ron Apparated to his place like everyone else, but with Harry's suspended Apparations license they were forced to walk. Harry was grateful Snape Manor had so much physical labor involved. He wasn't winded until the eighth floor.
"What do you need an apartment for?" Harry had laughed, back at the restaurant. Ron gave him a Look, and Harry realised what a stupid question that was. And laughed some more. He wasn't drunk, just starved for… this. Whatever it was.
It certainly gave Harry some pause though, that Ron was taking him here. Ron knew he was involved. But he'd never approved of it either. And his attitudes had definitely changed, though Harry didn't know how or when. Though he could guess why. Harry was winded for more than one reason. He beat back those whirling, hopeful thoughts. Traitorous thoughts, though they didn't feel like that now. They felt right. And dazzling.
Finally they slipped in through a window, and walked down a dingy, darkened hallway. There was glow-in-the-dark graffiti on the walls, 'Hepzibah wuz here', and one of the neighbors had enchanted a perpetual fountain to run down their front door; another had a small willow tree that sprouted from the door frame. Ron didn't even notice it, skirted the puddle without a second thought glance. His door was at the end. Even without a detection spell Harry could tell there were layers of wardings, Dark detectors and locking charms on it. Ron muttered a variety of spells, just to get in.
"Old Moody taught me a lot of these," Ron grinned, a trifle embarrassed. "Advanced stuff they haven't taught us at the Academy yet. Most of them are lethal, so it'll just be a second. You can't be too careful."
"Constant Vigilance!" Harry teased. But he was impressed.
"Sh!" said Ron, with a mischievous grin. "The old witch across the hall is a piece of work. Been trying to get us out thrown out for months. We deserve it of course," he laughed, "but I rather like this place. My first, you know? Sort of anyway."
Harry suppressed another surge of envy. He'd never considered how nice it would be just to strike out on your own. Everything he had really belonged to Severus. But he didn't want to think of Severus right now.
The door opened, and Ron's hand accidentally brushed against Harry's shoulder like a whisper. Harry shivered, every nerve alive as he turned to Ron. He felt the room come to life with sudden movement behind him. Ron's face fell. The door shut. Harry saw stars, as he was slammed, hard against the wall. He was aware his ears rang, dimly, distant and confused. The back of his head throbbed wetly, where he had hit something. Hit something? What? But he couldn't speak, he squirmed under Ron's unnatural strength. Help….
"Who are you?" Ron's face was angry. Harry registered the wand at his face; he couldn't answer: Ron's forearm choked off his breath. "What have you done with Harry?"
Can't breathe…. Harry struggled.
Ron voiced two spells Harry had never heard at Hogwarts, and Harry was bound head to foot in invisible bands as tight as steel. And he couldn't call out or speak.
Then the lights went on in the flat. Over Ron's shoulder Harry now saw an array of Dark Detectors that would have made Mad-Eye Moody proud.
They were all pointing at Harry.
Finis.
Also worked on 'Name Dropping,' Part Two of 'Reunion.' Will drop that in (ha-ha) later.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-05-12 08:20 pm (UTC)I look forward to more.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-13 05:15 am (UTC)You can't leave it there!
Mad Martha
no subject
Date: 2003-05-13 07:32 am (UTC)i will not read. dammit. hurry quick write the rest!
or you know, don't. heh.
Snape Manor
Date: 2003-05-14 10:15 am (UTC)~Icarus
Don't leave it there!
Date: 2003-05-14 10:28 am (UTC)~Icarus
Snape Manor
Date: 2003-05-14 10:29 am (UTC)~Icarus