The Snidget by Acidburn and Sinick (NC-17/Adult)

[lysimache.livejournal.com]

Fandom: HARRY POTTER
Pairing: Harry Potter / Severus Snape
Length: 34,000+ words
Author on LJ: sinick and ac1d6urn
Author Website: None
Why this must be read:

Everything has gone wrong: Snape has watched Harry die, Voldemort has been resurrected in a creepy fusion with Nagini, the Death Eaters have taken over Hogwarts. Somehow, Snape must continue on, doing what he can to see that good can eventually triumph. Yet all is not as it initially seems in this delightful story that goes AU at almost the end of Deathly Hallows, and the 'secret animagus' trope is certainly alive, well, and as charming as ever in this entry from the current snarry_games.

Sinick and Acidburn, who always bring interesting fic full of delightful images, have done a marvelous job showing how the smallest of creatures can bring hope in dark times, in this case, a Snidget, the small (about the size of a bumblebee) golden bird that was the inspiration for the Snitch in the game of Quidditch (for more about this magical creature, see Rowling's Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Quidditch Through the Ages). The epigraph, Dickinson's "Hope Is the Thing With Feathers," couldn't be more apt. Lovely and sweet!

There are also two gorgeous additional illustrations by Acidburn that aren't on the story proper.

An excerpt:

Late that night, Snape watched the tiny bird settling down among the ornate carvings of his bed's headboard, as if a cup formed by the coils of an ebony snake was a perfectly comfortable nest. Perhaps Snape was finally starting to feel the effects of the Sleeping Draught he'd taken earlier. Making him feel less like he was walking on a sword's edge, living under a sword's edge. Making everything quiet and still and sort of all right.

In the deep underground hush he called out softly, "Featherbrain?"

The Snidget glanced at Snape, without moving a bit from his comfortable ruffle of yellow fluff amid the carved coils.

How quickly his mood changes once I'm not holding anything bright or sweet. Predictable. "Featherbrain!" he repeated louder.

The Snidget promptly shut his eyes and huddled lower.

"Too bad," Snape hmphed. "The name fits. That's what I'll call you from now on."

The bird didn't react at all.

"Don't think I'm not used to being ignored," Snape continued, aware that he was babbling, but not particularly caring, right at that moment. I'll just reduce the dosage for my improved version of the draught. "I've taught dunderheads how to avoid cauldron explosions for longer than you've been alive!"

A slight shift of feathers, and one eye flickered at him.

"Yes, a dunderhead is much worse than a featherbrain," Snape declared. "Count yourself lucky."

"Cheep?"

Apparently he's decided to join in on the conversation, or vocalisation of course, in his case. "At least your brain only has feathers. You don't want to know what was used as a neural substitute in theirs, you really don't."

The chirruping went on longer this time: a liquid, laughing note. Snape huffed his own dry laugh.

In the quiet that followed, Snape found himself admitting wryly, if only to himself, "I always thought, if I was ever talking to someone in my bed, it'd be someone quite different."

Beady eyes blinked wide and the feathered brat gave a questioning trill.

Snape allowed a rueful grin onto his face. "And under quite different circumstances than having my 'conversational partner' nesting over my head."

The bird put his head under his wing. Snape took the hint.

Go! Read! :)

The Snidget