Post by Kris11 on Mar 21, 2012 8:52:32 GMT 10
Title: Five People Rosethorn Meets in the Afterlife 5: An Angry Wizard
Rating : G
Word Count: 438
Crossover: Emelan/Harry Potter
Summary (and any Warnings): Rosethorn meets five men before her boy comes to fetch her. Don't these freaks know she has more important things to do than deal with their issues?
Notes: Last one!
Snape regarded the world around him. He had known for many years that he would not survive the war. The fact that he died by the Dark Lord's hand, with him believing Snape was a Death Eater still had been one of the worse fates Snape had considered for himself, but now that it was over and he was standing in this quiet, empty place he found that it didn't matter, not overly much.
His gaze flicked to the side as a small scuff of skin on stone sounded from behind him.
He turned, his black cape billowing as he pointed his drawn wand in the noise’s direction.
“A stick? Better than a sword, I suppose, but you foolish men had better stop pointing these things at me, or I’ll know what for,” a slurred but sharp-toned voice said from the fog.
At first, his heart nearly stopped as the red-haired woman walked towards him.
He realized in the next heartbeat that she wasn't who he had, unconsciously, been yearning to see. This woman's hair was cut short, falling about her ears. Her eyes were darker, her features more closed and sharp. She was dressed in an old-fashioned habit, dark green and falling past her knees.
"On your way," he said sharply. "I don't want to deal with anyone right now."
Her jaw clenched as he waved her away nonchalantly, arrogantly with his wand. Suddenly, it jerked in his hand. Expecting a disarming spell, he was shocked when his wand started to grow.
Letting it drop, Snape watched, shocked, as it rooted itself to the earth, a miniature willow growing in place where his wand had fallen.
He turned his shocked gaze to the woman, who regarded him steadily. With unease, he recalled a lesson he should have learned more carefully: Everything has power; just because it isn’t a wizards’, doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous.
“I did warn you about pointing things at me.”
“I can do magic without my wand,” he said softly, stepping back as the willow outgrew the space between them. He had to take his gaze from her to watch it grow.
She laughed softly. “Neither hide nor hair to me, my buck.” She began to walk on.
Snape watched her disappear into the fog, and looked back at his wand-tree. Shaking his head, he considered his own folly and discarded it. It really didn't matter here, after all.
Laying his hand on the bark, he felt the powerful magic flow through it as it moved with growth under his palm. He prepared himself to say goodbye, but to what... he still wasn't sure.
Rating : G
Word Count: 438
Crossover: Emelan/Harry Potter
Summary (and any Warnings): Rosethorn meets five men before her boy comes to fetch her. Don't these freaks know she has more important things to do than deal with their issues?
Notes: Last one!
Snape regarded the world around him. He had known for many years that he would not survive the war. The fact that he died by the Dark Lord's hand, with him believing Snape was a Death Eater still had been one of the worse fates Snape had considered for himself, but now that it was over and he was standing in this quiet, empty place he found that it didn't matter, not overly much.
His gaze flicked to the side as a small scuff of skin on stone sounded from behind him.
He turned, his black cape billowing as he pointed his drawn wand in the noise’s direction.
“A stick? Better than a sword, I suppose, but you foolish men had better stop pointing these things at me, or I’ll know what for,” a slurred but sharp-toned voice said from the fog.
At first, his heart nearly stopped as the red-haired woman walked towards him.
He realized in the next heartbeat that she wasn't who he had, unconsciously, been yearning to see. This woman's hair was cut short, falling about her ears. Her eyes were darker, her features more closed and sharp. She was dressed in an old-fashioned habit, dark green and falling past her knees.
"On your way," he said sharply. "I don't want to deal with anyone right now."
Her jaw clenched as he waved her away nonchalantly, arrogantly with his wand. Suddenly, it jerked in his hand. Expecting a disarming spell, he was shocked when his wand started to grow.
Letting it drop, Snape watched, shocked, as it rooted itself to the earth, a miniature willow growing in place where his wand had fallen.
He turned his shocked gaze to the woman, who regarded him steadily. With unease, he recalled a lesson he should have learned more carefully: Everything has power; just because it isn’t a wizards’, doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous.
“I did warn you about pointing things at me.”
“I can do magic without my wand,” he said softly, stepping back as the willow outgrew the space between them. He had to take his gaze from her to watch it grow.
She laughed softly. “Neither hide nor hair to me, my buck.” She began to walk on.
Snape watched her disappear into the fog, and looked back at his wand-tree. Shaking his head, he considered his own folly and discarded it. It really didn't matter here, after all.
Laying his hand on the bark, he felt the powerful magic flow through it as it moved with growth under his palm. He prepared himself to say goodbye, but to what... he still wasn't sure.