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crack_van2007-06-30 04:16 pm
malabud.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2007-06-30 04:16 pm
Entry tags:
In Blood Only by E.M. Snape (R)
Fandom: HARRY POTTER
Pairing: Gen, with flashbacks to Harry/Tonks
Length: 177,000 words
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Website: E.M. Snape's Fanfiction.net Profile
Why this must be read:
I saved for my last recommendation a particular favorite of mine. I admit it; I'm a sucker for a good Snape fic. But only fic that is true to Snape -- in-character, non-romantic, mean, cruel, sarcastic, deeply horrible Snape, who holds perceived grievances against himself close to his heart and cherishes them. Thus, much Snape fic is not for me. Occasionally, I will read a fic where Snape's characterization deviates from the above (in other words, from canon Snape), but only if said characterization can be justified by the events of the story. In fact, I recommended one or two such fics here on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
crack_van last time.
Multitude are the Snape-as-Harry's-father (whether biological or adoptive) fics wherein Snape becomes a caring dad who gives his son hugs. If the author can make a good case for it, sure, I'll read it. But it'd better have a darn good justification for such changes in Snape.
This story is different, however. In Blood Only is indeed a Snape-as-Harry's-father fic, but it keeps Snape just as mean as ever. In fact, Snape uses the truth that he is Harry's biological father to get back at Dumbledore for some preceived injustices he suffered at Dumbledore's hands. Snape never once hugs Harry and even comes close to abusive behavior towards him. By the end of the story, they reach an understanding of sorts, but Snape is still ever Snapish and Slytherin.
In Blood Only is an excellent fic, not only for the Snape characterization, but also for its plot, Harry's characterization, and its inventive ending. I won't give it away, but the defeat of Voldemort is not the focus of the story, but nor is it ignored completely.
In Blood Only is rated R for language, a couple of lightly described sexual scenes viewed through Occlumency after the fact, and violence. It can be a dark fic, but it does not end darkly. Highly recommended.
* * *
Snape entered the loo, only to be assaulted by the sight of Gilderoy Lockhart emerging from a stall. Snape glanced at the toilet he'd just used, and realized with disdain that it was struggling to flush.
"You stopped up the toilet," he noted dryly.
Lockhart looked flustered. "Actually," and before Snape could react, he'd whipped out his wand, "Obliviate!"
Lulled into the spell, Snape could only listen and accept it as Lockhart informed him, "You stopped up the toilet."
After the other man's departure, the trance crept from Snape's mind, and he glanced, befuddled, at the toilet he'd stopped up, wondering why he still felt like he needed to use the bathroom.
Ah, I remember that, Snape thought, irritated by that half hour he'd spent searching for Filch to unclog that toilet.
He was still under the lull of the memory restorative draught. When testing their concoctions, the NEWT Potions class had yielded a surprising number of students who had been obliviated at one point or another by Gilderoy Lockhart. His curiosity piqued, Snape had swallowed the draught himself as soon as the class had filed out. He'd already witnessed Lockhart knocking down a shelf of his potions (he'd known he wasn't that careless!), slipping on the slick surface outside the DADA classroom, and swallowing his coffee the wrong way. Why that infernal idiot had felt the need to erase the recollections of even his most minor embarrassments still baffled him. After all, the man had humiliated himself on a daily basis with his pitiful attempts at wizardry.
Snape would have hexed the imbecile if he wasn't already sitting in Saint Mungo's, struggling to recall the slightest detail of his existence. As things were, he was beginning appreciate the concept of cosmic justice. How fitting that a man with so little respect for the recollections of others had been robbed of his own recollections.
He could feel the power of the draught waning, so he prepared to rise; he supposed there were no more Lockhart incidents obliviated from his mind...
And he collapsed back to his seat as something much more powerful broke through, another memory, buried much deeper, obliviated by a far more powerful spell.
The draught wasn't usually strong enough to restore very powerful obliviates (hence Lockhart's continued presence in Saint Mungo's); Snape recognized the fleeting quality of the memory as it tugged at his thoughts. It had been buried very deeply. Clearly someone really wanted him to forget this one.
Intrigued, he cleared his mind, rallying every Occlumency skill he'd ever acquired. He forced the questions out of his mind-- Who had done this? Was it Voldemort trying to hide some nefarious scheme? Potter trying to hide some miserable little escapade?-- no, Potter had neither the skill nor the guile to pull it off-- and at long last his mind grew quiet.
The memory trickled back slowly at first-- Potter thrashing on the bed, Dumbledore's sad blue eyes, Snape's own white hands stirring a potion-- then it overtook him with an explosion of color and sound:
"How long has he been in this state?" he heard himself ask. He was standing over a steaming cauldron in the Hospital Wing, in the final stages of brewing a potion.
"Three hours," Poppy Pomfrey replied, hovering worriedly at the foot of Potter's hospital bed as the boy thrashed and quivered in his sleep. "He won't even respond to stimuli now."
Snape sniffed the potion, verifying it was in the proper state for ingestion.
"Severus," he could hear Dumbledore's gentle voice, feel his hand on his shoulder. "Is it ready?"
"I've prepared the counter-poison as per your request, Headmaster," he replied, watching the boy on the bed struggle against an unseen opponent in his fever-ridden state. "It awaits only the blood of a relative. You have a sample on hand, I trust?"
"No, Severus. They would not consent."
Snape glanced back sharply at the aged headmaster looming behind him.
"Without the blood of an immediate relative," he explained carefully, wondering if the situation had addled the Headmaster's wits, "this potion is utterly useless. Potter's as good as dead. Did you explain this to them?"
Dumbledore looked sadly over at Potter, still unconscious on the hospital bed, then back to his Potions Master.
"I want you to use your own blood, Severus."
Snape stared at him. "Have you heard a word I said? This potion will not--"
"Use your own blood, Severus," Dumbledore repeated softly.
Snape followed Dumbledore's orders, wondering what in Merlin's name was wrong with the other man. This would do nothing to help his wonder boy; the Headmaster was idling away the scant time before the boy inevitably succumbed to the poison. Dumbledore's logic defied Snape.
He was unaccustomed to disobeying Dumbledore's orders, however - even if the Headmaster was operating in a state of intense denial - so he made a careful incision and watched his blood trickle down his pale arm and dribble into the potion. He stood back as the older wizard carefully ladled out a vial, then poured a potion as useless as a placebo down the dying boy's throat...
And suddenly Potter's body stilled, the sharp, rasping breath fading into a calm, steady rhythm. A look of peace slackened over his features, the color rushing back into his pale face. Dumbledore pressed the empty vial back into Snape's numbed hands before returning to Harry's side. Snape could see from here that the boy's pain had faded, that the potion had done its work, and he was now in a natural, easy slumber.
It was impossible...
Dumbledore's aged hand stroked across Harry's sweat-soaked brow, smoothing back the mop of wet hair, lingering upon the boy's scar. At long last, he looked up.
Snape stood there, gaping at him.
"Come now, Severus, with a mind as sharp as yours, surely you understand why this worked?"
Snape looked at Dumbledore, then he looked at the boy. No, no he didn't. He could think of how-- but no, that was impossible.
Dumbledore's eyes were still locked on him, strangely sad.
"Look at me, Severus."
Snape knew he had to follow Dumbledore's orders. He looked at him. Straight into those mournful blue eyes.
He barely heard Dumbledore's whispered, "Obliviate."
In Blood Only
Pairing: Gen, with flashbacks to Harry/Tonks
Length: 177,000 words
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Website: E.M. Snape's Fanfiction.net Profile
Why this must be read:
I saved for my last recommendation a particular favorite of mine. I admit it; I'm a sucker for a good Snape fic. But only fic that is true to Snape -- in-character, non-romantic, mean, cruel, sarcastic, deeply horrible Snape, who holds perceived grievances against himself close to his heart and cherishes them. Thus, much Snape fic is not for me. Occasionally, I will read a fic where Snape's characterization deviates from the above (in other words, from canon Snape), but only if said characterization can be justified by the events of the story. In fact, I recommended one or two such fics here on
crack_van last time. Multitude are the Snape-as-Harry's-father (whether biological or adoptive) fics wherein Snape becomes a caring dad who gives his son hugs. If the author can make a good case for it, sure, I'll read it. But it'd better have a darn good justification for such changes in Snape.
This story is different, however. In Blood Only is indeed a Snape-as-Harry's-father fic, but it keeps Snape just as mean as ever. In fact, Snape uses the truth that he is Harry's biological father to get back at Dumbledore for some preceived injustices he suffered at Dumbledore's hands. Snape never once hugs Harry and even comes close to abusive behavior towards him. By the end of the story, they reach an understanding of sorts, but Snape is still ever Snapish and Slytherin.
In Blood Only is an excellent fic, not only for the Snape characterization, but also for its plot, Harry's characterization, and its inventive ending. I won't give it away, but the defeat of Voldemort is not the focus of the story, but nor is it ignored completely.
In Blood Only is rated R for language, a couple of lightly described sexual scenes viewed through Occlumency after the fact, and violence. It can be a dark fic, but it does not end darkly. Highly recommended.
* * *
Snape entered the loo, only to be assaulted by the sight of Gilderoy Lockhart emerging from a stall. Snape glanced at the toilet he'd just used, and realized with disdain that it was struggling to flush.
"You stopped up the toilet," he noted dryly.
Lockhart looked flustered. "Actually," and before Snape could react, he'd whipped out his wand, "Obliviate!"
Lulled into the spell, Snape could only listen and accept it as Lockhart informed him, "You stopped up the toilet."
After the other man's departure, the trance crept from Snape's mind, and he glanced, befuddled, at the toilet he'd stopped up, wondering why he still felt like he needed to use the bathroom.
Ah, I remember that, Snape thought, irritated by that half hour he'd spent searching for Filch to unclog that toilet.
He was still under the lull of the memory restorative draught. When testing their concoctions, the NEWT Potions class had yielded a surprising number of students who had been obliviated at one point or another by Gilderoy Lockhart. His curiosity piqued, Snape had swallowed the draught himself as soon as the class had filed out. He'd already witnessed Lockhart knocking down a shelf of his potions (he'd known he wasn't that careless!), slipping on the slick surface outside the DADA classroom, and swallowing his coffee the wrong way. Why that infernal idiot had felt the need to erase the recollections of even his most minor embarrassments still baffled him. After all, the man had humiliated himself on a daily basis with his pitiful attempts at wizardry.
Snape would have hexed the imbecile if he wasn't already sitting in Saint Mungo's, struggling to recall the slightest detail of his existence. As things were, he was beginning appreciate the concept of cosmic justice. How fitting that a man with so little respect for the recollections of others had been robbed of his own recollections.
He could feel the power of the draught waning, so he prepared to rise; he supposed there were no more Lockhart incidents obliviated from his mind...
And he collapsed back to his seat as something much more powerful broke through, another memory, buried much deeper, obliviated by a far more powerful spell.
The draught wasn't usually strong enough to restore very powerful obliviates (hence Lockhart's continued presence in Saint Mungo's); Snape recognized the fleeting quality of the memory as it tugged at his thoughts. It had been buried very deeply. Clearly someone really wanted him to forget this one.
Intrigued, he cleared his mind, rallying every Occlumency skill he'd ever acquired. He forced the questions out of his mind-- Who had done this? Was it Voldemort trying to hide some nefarious scheme? Potter trying to hide some miserable little escapade?-- no, Potter had neither the skill nor the guile to pull it off-- and at long last his mind grew quiet.
The memory trickled back slowly at first-- Potter thrashing on the bed, Dumbledore's sad blue eyes, Snape's own white hands stirring a potion-- then it overtook him with an explosion of color and sound:
"How long has he been in this state?" he heard himself ask. He was standing over a steaming cauldron in the Hospital Wing, in the final stages of brewing a potion.
"Three hours," Poppy Pomfrey replied, hovering worriedly at the foot of Potter's hospital bed as the boy thrashed and quivered in his sleep. "He won't even respond to stimuli now."
Snape sniffed the potion, verifying it was in the proper state for ingestion.
"Severus," he could hear Dumbledore's gentle voice, feel his hand on his shoulder. "Is it ready?"
"I've prepared the counter-poison as per your request, Headmaster," he replied, watching the boy on the bed struggle against an unseen opponent in his fever-ridden state. "It awaits only the blood of a relative. You have a sample on hand, I trust?"
"No, Severus. They would not consent."
Snape glanced back sharply at the aged headmaster looming behind him.
"Without the blood of an immediate relative," he explained carefully, wondering if the situation had addled the Headmaster's wits, "this potion is utterly useless. Potter's as good as dead. Did you explain this to them?"
Dumbledore looked sadly over at Potter, still unconscious on the hospital bed, then back to his Potions Master.
"I want you to use your own blood, Severus."
Snape stared at him. "Have you heard a word I said? This potion will not--"
"Use your own blood, Severus," Dumbledore repeated softly.
Snape followed Dumbledore's orders, wondering what in Merlin's name was wrong with the other man. This would do nothing to help his wonder boy; the Headmaster was idling away the scant time before the boy inevitably succumbed to the poison. Dumbledore's logic defied Snape.
He was unaccustomed to disobeying Dumbledore's orders, however - even if the Headmaster was operating in a state of intense denial - so he made a careful incision and watched his blood trickle down his pale arm and dribble into the potion. He stood back as the older wizard carefully ladled out a vial, then poured a potion as useless as a placebo down the dying boy's throat...
And suddenly Potter's body stilled, the sharp, rasping breath fading into a calm, steady rhythm. A look of peace slackened over his features, the color rushing back into his pale face. Dumbledore pressed the empty vial back into Snape's numbed hands before returning to Harry's side. Snape could see from here that the boy's pain had faded, that the potion had done its work, and he was now in a natural, easy slumber.
It was impossible...
Dumbledore's aged hand stroked across Harry's sweat-soaked brow, smoothing back the mop of wet hair, lingering upon the boy's scar. At long last, he looked up.
Snape stood there, gaping at him.
"Come now, Severus, with a mind as sharp as yours, surely you understand why this worked?"
Snape looked at Dumbledore, then he looked at the boy. No, no he didn't. He could think of how-- but no, that was impossible.
Dumbledore's eyes were still locked on him, strangely sad.
"Look at me, Severus."
Snape knew he had to follow Dumbledore's orders. He looked at him. Straight into those mournful blue eyes.
He barely heard Dumbledore's whispered, "Obliviate."
In Blood Only