InsaneJournal

FIC: for amand_r and cordelia_v
So, I owe drabbles/ficlets to about nine people, who wagered a guess on which merry_smutmas fic was mine. (It was Occam's Razor.) Thanks to jadzialove for the read-throughs.

Here are the first two:

For amand_r, who requested:



Harry/ Justin Taylor (QaF)


"You do this often?" Harry gestured from Justin to himself. "Bring someone home?" he asked as he laced up his trainers.

"Nope," Justin smiled, then reached out and tugged Harry back onto the bed by the shirttail. "I love the way you talk—your accent."

Harry laughed out loud. "That was it? All I had to do was ask for your autograph? I'm such a fan of Rage's—I have every single copy."

Justin brushed Harry's hair from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. "You do, do you?"

"Yeah, I have this thing for super heroes," Harry said huskily, moving closer, closing his eyes when Justin leant in to briefly kiss him.

Tracing the scar on Harry's forehead, Justin told him, "Your scar…looks like a lightning bolt."

Harry's eyes shot open. "Oh…yeah, I get that a lot."

"You know…" Justin began, his eyes a little wider. "A lightning bolt scar…" He rolled over to snag a sketchpad from the bedside table. Shooting a glance at Harry, he said, "What a great gimmick for a super hero." Pencil already in hand, he scratched away as Harry slowly sat up.

Justin smiled at the look on Harry's face. "Wouldn't you like to be one?" he asked as he drew.

Harry craned his neck to see the sketch. "Be one? I'm sorry?"

There was a moment's silence as Justin scribbled furiously, then he stopped and examined it before holding it up for Harry to see. "A super hero. You know, save the world from evil, find true love in the end?" He raised an eyebrow.

Harry studied the impromptu sketch of himself posed in a cape, a lightning bolt emblazoned across his forehead and chest. Giving Justin a shrug, he shook his head. "I'll take a pass." He smiled lopsidedly. "Except for the true love part, maybe."


For cordelia_v, who requested:



Snape Rarepair (Weasley twin)


Snape opened his eyes slowly, then stared at the ceiling for a few moments before he sat up. Rubbing at his neck, he glanced sideways, then winced slightly as he discerned the cold, bloodless corpse that was his body.

"Takes a bit of getting used to, don't it?" A voice startled him.

He looked up into the familiar face, young and handsome, but split by a grim, knowing smile. Snape felt his heart in his throat as he considered the implications before speaking. Then, he wearily sighed.

"You're dead as well, I take it. So…which one are you? Even in death, you're indistinguishable."

"I'm George, sir," the boy answered, still smiling.

"I'm sorry," Snape said, then at the raised eyebrow, he added, "that you're dead."

"Oh." The redhead sobered, then seemed puzzled. "You are?" When Snape gave him a withering look, his eyes widened. "Wait. What was that you gave Harry? Memories?" His brows knit together, he didn't pause for an answer, but gasped, "Why would you give him memories?"

Snape waved a hand dismissively. "So that he might succeed. Too complicated to explain…at least for now." He raised both hands in front of his face and flexed his fingers carefully. "Odd, I don't feel much different," he murmured, then looked up at the Weasley boy. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"Dumbledore sent me."

"Ah. Naturally," Snape replied dryly. He looked around the Shack one last time. "Well, I suppose I am ready."

A hand was suddenly thrust into his face as the redhead offered to help him up. Snape stared at him for a moment, then took hold and was firmly boosted to his feet.

Strangely, the hand didn't let go, and even stranger, Snape accepted it as the most natural circumstance in the world. Well…in this world, he supposed.

As they turned to go—Snape didn't know where, and, remarkably, didn't even care—the twin smiled at him and confessed, "Professor, I'm not George. I'm Fred."

"Does it really make a whit of difference?" Snape asked rhetorically, and was rewarded by a soft snicker and a squeeze to his hand as they drifted through the wall.