The Best Laid Plans of Nobody At All | HP, OFC | PG-13
First posted to hp_surreal on 11 Jan 2005
CATEGORY: AU, Gen
PAIRING: Mentions of Harry/Lavender, Harry/Susan Bones, Draco/girls, OFC/Half-a-bee
SUMMARY: Someone bites off more than she can chew. Harry to the rescue? Seventh year.
WORD COUNT: 1,760-ish
WARNINGS: No resolution. Is only a scene, not a story.
NOTES: X-posted to my journal. And this OFC should exist, damn it.
The Best Laid Plans of Nobody At All
Omia heard the Death Eaters coming, and figured this would have to be the end. If they caught her, her father couldn’t let that go, not Severus Snape. He’d give up Harry Potter in a heartbeat, and raid Muggle homes for babies to sacrifice if it meant he had a chance of saving his own little girl.
Not that I am little, Omia mused, listening for the footfalls that would mean her time was up. I’m gawkier than he ever was. Bonier, too. Stupid Snape body-type. Look like a vulture, weigh the same as a sodding pigeon.
From a different direction, more feet cracked through the hard-topped snow. It was really her only advantage over the men trying to follow her. She was light enough, despite her height, to cross most of the glistening, pristine expanses of the Malfoy estate without marking her path. But it wouldn’t stop Lucius Malfoy finding her on his property. The grounds worked for him, even in their ruined condition.
It especially wouldn’t stop him finding the daughter of his former colleague, who’d convinced his son Draco to grow up and have a proper look at the world and how it worked. The girl had shown him that Tom Riddle, Voldemort’s original, had Britain’s purebloods bowing and scraping to a half-blood lunatic. She’d given him a better cause, stopping Voldemort and protecting Wizard society. For her.
So Lucius believed, anyway. Draco wasn’t Omia’s pawn, any more than she was Voldemort’s. The only Snape female born in a dozen generations certainly had given him a push, but he’d done all of his own research, and formed his own conclusions. It was how Draco worked. He had to convince himself.
Omia listened to the second set of noises. Fewer bodies in that direction, moving recklessly, and she registered a flash of black in the open door of the Malfoy family crypt before Harry sprawled on the floor in front of her, panting and covered in snow to his knees.
Omia cast a one-way Silencing charm, to keep their noise in and the Death Eaters’ unimpeded. “Potter. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you. Come on, you know you missed me.”
“Idiot. Now we’re both going to die,” she snapped, almost affectionately.
“Nope.” He collected himself and rose to his feet. “I’ve learned to Apparate.”
Omia snorted. “How nice, I’ve been able to do that for months now.”
“So why haven’t you?” He frowned at her in the darkness, chest heaving.
“Same reason you couldn’t Apparate directly to me. Same sort of wards they’ve got at Hogwarts. I tried, and bounced right back. There’s some kind of Confundus on the place, too. I can’t find an edge of the property.” Omia felt better with one of her friends nearby, at least.
“We’ll figure something out.”
“Go ahead, I’m fresh out of ideas. I was planning on letting them think they’d caught me, and then doing something catastrophic and suicidal so they wouldn’t be able to do more damage.”
Harry stared at Omia. “You can take the ‘noble Gryffindor’ thing too far, you know.”
“Bugger nobility, I don’t want them hurting my Dad. Or anyone,” she amended. Omia cared about the rest, but her Dad was most important. Harry could understand that.
More soft, subtly threatening noises from outside. Harry froze. “Is that them?”
Omia fought down a sarcastic response. “Won’t be long now.”
Harry nudged her. “Think if they found us shagging, they’d get embarrassed and go away?”
Omia snickered. “Leave it to you to come up with that. Sadly, I doubt it would go that way. And if Dad found out, he’d rip your bits off. Providing we survived the Death Eater sport following capture.”
Harry’s face contorted as he pictured, briefly, what it would be like to admit to Severus Snape that he’d shagged the man’s daughter. The Professor would doubtless do worse than rip Harry’s dick off.
“I say we fight our way out. There’s two of us, both powerful, both good at DADA.”
Omia groaned. “Lucius is out there, it’s not random Death Eaters. They’re not going to let us go.” She sighed. “I’m going to do a patented Harry Potter Dumb Thing, and you get back to Hogwarts.”
If Severus Snape would hurt Harry for bedding his daughter, he’d outright slaughter him for letting her come to actual harm. “Forget it, I’m not leaving you. That’s me being selfish. I don’t want my head taken clean off my body, thanks.”
“So you’d rather die here with me? Bonehead.”
“I’d rather be in the Tower, having it off with Lavender, but you just had to go scouting at Malfoy-bloody-Manor, didn’t you?” Something moved into the light at the door, and Harry shoved Omia behind himself.
“You and Lavender now? I thought you were with Susan Bones.” Omia shoved Harry behind her.
“Broke up a week ago. She’s interested in Neville. What about you and that Ravenclaw?”
“He’s half-a-bee.” It was their habit to speak in Monty Python terms. It confused other students, except some Muggle-born ones, and succeeded wildly at irritating the teachers.
“Come again?” The thing moved, and they realized it was a shadow on the snow.
“No stinger. Don’t make me be indelicate, Potter.” The shadow rippled across the mess Harry had made of the snow’s surface.
“Oh. Oh. Er, sorry to hear it.”
Omia didn’t answer, instead choosing to clutch Harry’s wrist so tightly, he thought she’d break either his arm or her fingers.
From outside, Lucius Malfoy snarled, “Did it occur to anyone to come round this side and stop her escaping while we waited like fools for her to come out the back way?”
There was a general murmur, the gist of which was No. Someone, probably Lucius, cast Crucio. A man screamed for a while. The screaming stopped and without the least pretense of covert movement, the Death Eaters trooped away, grumbling about their lost prey.
Harry made as if to stroll out of the crypt, but Omia grabbed him. “Don’t be daft. There could be a group waiting for us to wander out. We’ll wait here. How on earth did you find me, by the way?”
Harry was quiet for a moment. “I was taking shelter. Knew you’d be somewhere on the grounds, just not where exactly.”
“You really are a lucky git, aren’t you?”
“Shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at her. “Like you’ve been so much smarter. Coming here alone, no backup plan…”
“Shut up,” sighed Omia.
They shared a companionable silence for about five minutes. Finally, Harry started fidgeting. “This is insane. They’ve gone. They wouldn’t just stand out there waiting if they knew we were in here. They would come in and kill us, or possibly torture us, and then kill us. Lucius Malfoy doesn’t have the sense of humor required for this sort of trap.”
“You’re a great judge of character, you are. You thought Minister Fudge was just stupid. If I’m to die today, Potter, it’s not going to be because you don’t think Lucius Malfoy has a sense of humor. The man wears those hats; he must have a bit of fun in him somewhere. Draco said once that the crypt is almost the only place in the grounds that doesn’t have a load of spells on it. Lucius can’t see inside. He doesn’t like to know what his dead relatives are up to.”
“What?”
At Harry’s alarmed yelp, Omia giggled. “You never thought a ghost would linger in its own crypt? They’re all here. They know we’re Draco’s allies, I spoke to one when I first came in. Edvensart? Hallo, are you still about?”
Harry saw a milky puff of steam coalesce in front of Omia, and gradually take on a human shape.
“Miss Snape. What is it you require?”
“Only wanted to introduce you to Harry, another of Draco’s allies. Harry Potter, Edvensart Malfoy. Edvensart was killed by a Hippogriff. Explains the family’s animosity toward Buckbeak, doesn’t it?”
Edvensart composed his face in a mask of disapproval, which amused Omia far more than it really should have done.
“Mister Potter, how nice to meet you. Our Draco, is he well?”
“Last time I saw him, he was sitting with two girls, chatting them up. He’s fine.”
Edvensart smiled. Smirked. Whatever expression it was that meant a Malfoy was pleased, and felt superior. “Excellent news. As the scion of our bloodline, we regard him as our last hope to retrieve the noble Malfoy family name from the depths to which it has sunk.”
Omia tugged Harry’s sleeve. “Don’t ask questions. It’s just better that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got half an hour of history on the ‘noble Malfoy family name’ when I got here, because I asked a polite question. Spare us both, will you?” She looked pained, Harry decided.
“On one condition. You have to tell me what he told you, once we get back to school.”
Omia frowned over Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll recite it verbatim if I can remember, it’s no secret, but I don’t want another droning lecture from a ghost who knows we can’t leave yet!” She grabbed Harry’s collar and shook him a bit, almost absently.
“You all right, Omi?”
“Wondering if Dad knows I’m in trouble. If he’s planning anything stupid.”
“What, like storming off alone to rescue you?” Harry asked wryly.
Omia snorted and surprised him by giving him a one-armed hug. “Thanks for that, by the way. If I didn’t have such stupid friends, I’d have been toast a long time ago.”
“You Snapes… good thing I like you,” Harry sniffed. “Does this mean we get to have a bunker shag, to forget the horrors of war?”
Harry always had been good at getting a laugh out of Omia Snape.
“Right, right, hilarious. You can stop now. Tell me what you thought you were going to find here, why don’t you?”
Wiping her eyes, Omia straightened up and shook herself. “Sorry about that. Erm, yeah, I thought I might find Lucius. Without minions. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Harry studied her fondly. She really was a complete idiot sometimes, but made up for it by being… odd. In a way even her father couldn’t quite define. “Dimwit.”
“Yeah, well. I had grand ideas of a single-witch ambush and Lucius Malfoy on his knees, begging me for mercy. Looked pretty good.”
“You need to get laid, Snape.”
Omia socked him in the upper chest, smiling. “Don’t be an arsehole, Harry-dear.”
CATEGORY: AU, Gen
PAIRING: Mentions of Harry/Lavender, Harry/Susan Bones, Draco/girls, OFC/Half-a-bee
SUMMARY: Someone bites off more than she can chew. Harry to the rescue? Seventh year.
WORD COUNT: 1,760-ish
WARNINGS: No resolution. Is only a scene, not a story.
NOTES: X-posted to my journal. And this OFC should exist, damn it.
The Best Laid Plans of Nobody At All
Omia heard the Death Eaters coming, and figured this would have to be the end. If they caught her, her father couldn’t let that go, not Severus Snape. He’d give up Harry Potter in a heartbeat, and raid Muggle homes for babies to sacrifice if it meant he had a chance of saving his own little girl.
Not that I am little, Omia mused, listening for the footfalls that would mean her time was up. I’m gawkier than he ever was. Bonier, too. Stupid Snape body-type. Look like a vulture, weigh the same as a sodding pigeon.
From a different direction, more feet cracked through the hard-topped snow. It was really her only advantage over the men trying to follow her. She was light enough, despite her height, to cross most of the glistening, pristine expanses of the Malfoy estate without marking her path. But it wouldn’t stop Lucius Malfoy finding her on his property. The grounds worked for him, even in their ruined condition.
It especially wouldn’t stop him finding the daughter of his former colleague, who’d convinced his son Draco to grow up and have a proper look at the world and how it worked. The girl had shown him that Tom Riddle, Voldemort’s original, had Britain’s purebloods bowing and scraping to a half-blood lunatic. She’d given him a better cause, stopping Voldemort and protecting Wizard society. For her.
So Lucius believed, anyway. Draco wasn’t Omia’s pawn, any more than she was Voldemort’s. The only Snape female born in a dozen generations certainly had given him a push, but he’d done all of his own research, and formed his own conclusions. It was how Draco worked. He had to convince himself.
Omia listened to the second set of noises. Fewer bodies in that direction, moving recklessly, and she registered a flash of black in the open door of the Malfoy family crypt before Harry sprawled on the floor in front of her, panting and covered in snow to his knees.
Omia cast a one-way Silencing charm, to keep their noise in and the Death Eaters’ unimpeded. “Potter. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you. Come on, you know you missed me.”
“Idiot. Now we’re both going to die,” she snapped, almost affectionately.
“Nope.” He collected himself and rose to his feet. “I’ve learned to Apparate.”
Omia snorted. “How nice, I’ve been able to do that for months now.”
“So why haven’t you?” He frowned at her in the darkness, chest heaving.
“Same reason you couldn’t Apparate directly to me. Same sort of wards they’ve got at Hogwarts. I tried, and bounced right back. There’s some kind of Confundus on the place, too. I can’t find an edge of the property.” Omia felt better with one of her friends nearby, at least.
“We’ll figure something out.”
“Go ahead, I’m fresh out of ideas. I was planning on letting them think they’d caught me, and then doing something catastrophic and suicidal so they wouldn’t be able to do more damage.”
Harry stared at Omia. “You can take the ‘noble Gryffindor’ thing too far, you know.”
“Bugger nobility, I don’t want them hurting my Dad. Or anyone,” she amended. Omia cared about the rest, but her Dad was most important. Harry could understand that.
More soft, subtly threatening noises from outside. Harry froze. “Is that them?”
Omia fought down a sarcastic response. “Won’t be long now.”
Harry nudged her. “Think if they found us shagging, they’d get embarrassed and go away?”
Omia snickered. “Leave it to you to come up with that. Sadly, I doubt it would go that way. And if Dad found out, he’d rip your bits off. Providing we survived the Death Eater sport following capture.”
Harry’s face contorted as he pictured, briefly, what it would be like to admit to Severus Snape that he’d shagged the man’s daughter. The Professor would doubtless do worse than rip Harry’s dick off.
“I say we fight our way out. There’s two of us, both powerful, both good at DADA.”
Omia groaned. “Lucius is out there, it’s not random Death Eaters. They’re not going to let us go.” She sighed. “I’m going to do a patented Harry Potter Dumb Thing, and you get back to Hogwarts.”
If Severus Snape would hurt Harry for bedding his daughter, he’d outright slaughter him for letting her come to actual harm. “Forget it, I’m not leaving you. That’s me being selfish. I don’t want my head taken clean off my body, thanks.”
“So you’d rather die here with me? Bonehead.”
“I’d rather be in the Tower, having it off with Lavender, but you just had to go scouting at Malfoy-bloody-Manor, didn’t you?” Something moved into the light at the door, and Harry shoved Omia behind himself.
“You and Lavender now? I thought you were with Susan Bones.” Omia shoved Harry behind her.
“Broke up a week ago. She’s interested in Neville. What about you and that Ravenclaw?”
“He’s half-a-bee.” It was their habit to speak in Monty Python terms. It confused other students, except some Muggle-born ones, and succeeded wildly at irritating the teachers.
“Come again?” The thing moved, and they realized it was a shadow on the snow.
“No stinger. Don’t make me be indelicate, Potter.” The shadow rippled across the mess Harry had made of the snow’s surface.
“Oh. Oh. Er, sorry to hear it.”
Omia didn’t answer, instead choosing to clutch Harry’s wrist so tightly, he thought she’d break either his arm or her fingers.
From outside, Lucius Malfoy snarled, “Did it occur to anyone to come round this side and stop her escaping while we waited like fools for her to come out the back way?”
There was a general murmur, the gist of which was No. Someone, probably Lucius, cast Crucio. A man screamed for a while. The screaming stopped and without the least pretense of covert movement, the Death Eaters trooped away, grumbling about their lost prey.
Harry made as if to stroll out of the crypt, but Omia grabbed him. “Don’t be daft. There could be a group waiting for us to wander out. We’ll wait here. How on earth did you find me, by the way?”
Harry was quiet for a moment. “I was taking shelter. Knew you’d be somewhere on the grounds, just not where exactly.”
“You really are a lucky git, aren’t you?”
“Shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at her. “Like you’ve been so much smarter. Coming here alone, no backup plan…”
“Shut up,” sighed Omia.
They shared a companionable silence for about five minutes. Finally, Harry started fidgeting. “This is insane. They’ve gone. They wouldn’t just stand out there waiting if they knew we were in here. They would come in and kill us, or possibly torture us, and then kill us. Lucius Malfoy doesn’t have the sense of humor required for this sort of trap.”
“You’re a great judge of character, you are. You thought Minister Fudge was just stupid. If I’m to die today, Potter, it’s not going to be because you don’t think Lucius Malfoy has a sense of humor. The man wears those hats; he must have a bit of fun in him somewhere. Draco said once that the crypt is almost the only place in the grounds that doesn’t have a load of spells on it. Lucius can’t see inside. He doesn’t like to know what his dead relatives are up to.”
“What?”
At Harry’s alarmed yelp, Omia giggled. “You never thought a ghost would linger in its own crypt? They’re all here. They know we’re Draco’s allies, I spoke to one when I first came in. Edvensart? Hallo, are you still about?”
Harry saw a milky puff of steam coalesce in front of Omia, and gradually take on a human shape.
“Miss Snape. What is it you require?”
“Only wanted to introduce you to Harry, another of Draco’s allies. Harry Potter, Edvensart Malfoy. Edvensart was killed by a Hippogriff. Explains the family’s animosity toward Buckbeak, doesn’t it?”
Edvensart composed his face in a mask of disapproval, which amused Omia far more than it really should have done.
“Mister Potter, how nice to meet you. Our Draco, is he well?”
“Last time I saw him, he was sitting with two girls, chatting them up. He’s fine.”
Edvensart smiled. Smirked. Whatever expression it was that meant a Malfoy was pleased, and felt superior. “Excellent news. As the scion of our bloodline, we regard him as our last hope to retrieve the noble Malfoy family name from the depths to which it has sunk.”
Omia tugged Harry’s sleeve. “Don’t ask questions. It’s just better that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got half an hour of history on the ‘noble Malfoy family name’ when I got here, because I asked a polite question. Spare us both, will you?” She looked pained, Harry decided.
“On one condition. You have to tell me what he told you, once we get back to school.”
Omia frowned over Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll recite it verbatim if I can remember, it’s no secret, but I don’t want another droning lecture from a ghost who knows we can’t leave yet!” She grabbed Harry’s collar and shook him a bit, almost absently.
“You all right, Omi?”
“Wondering if Dad knows I’m in trouble. If he’s planning anything stupid.”
“What, like storming off alone to rescue you?” Harry asked wryly.
Omia snorted and surprised him by giving him a one-armed hug. “Thanks for that, by the way. If I didn’t have such stupid friends, I’d have been toast a long time ago.”
“You Snapes… good thing I like you,” Harry sniffed. “Does this mean we get to have a bunker shag, to forget the horrors of war?”
Harry always had been good at getting a laugh out of Omia Snape.
“Right, right, hilarious. You can stop now. Tell me what you thought you were going to find here, why don’t you?”
Wiping her eyes, Omia straightened up and shook herself. “Sorry about that. Erm, yeah, I thought I might find Lucius. Without minions. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Harry studied her fondly. She really was a complete idiot sometimes, but made up for it by being… odd. In a way even her father couldn’t quite define. “Dimwit.”
“Yeah, well. I had grand ideas of a single-witch ambush and Lucius Malfoy on his knees, begging me for mercy. Looked pretty good.”
“You need to get laid, Snape.”
Omia socked him in the upper chest, smiling. “Don’t be an arsehole, Harry-dear.”