Ficathon Part 1: "Rictusempra" (Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape)
Title: Rictusempra
Character Pairing: Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape
Prompt: No One Expects the Spanish Inquisition
Rating: G
Word Count: 604
Author's Notes: *pre-slash, *uncontrollable giggling. This started as a response to the 200 words of crack!fic, but it got out of hand. Argus Filch provides our p.o.v., however.
Link to Prompt Table: http://sillypowers.livejournal.com/4098.html
Argus Filch groaned as his back creaked. He hated the dungeons. They were damp and cold. And useless, as far as he was concerned. Once they got rid of the old punishments, the good punishments, there was no point in even having dungeons, was there? He kept his shackles and chains oiled, just in case. But Headmaster Dippet had preferred to turn a blind eye to the miscreants around him, and Headmaster Dumbledore was even worse.
Suddenly his ears perked up. He straightened up hastily, not even noticing the loud cracks his spine made. He heard voices. A voice. A student voice, pleading.
"No! No... Stop! Stop, please, stop!"
For a moment he was thrust back in time, and a student was before him, shackled and pleading for mercy. But the moment was fleeting. This was now, he was not allowed to use his shackles. But he was allowed to catch whoever was making that horrible, wonderful sound.
As Filch rounded the corner, he saw a crumpled figure on the floor. The dark head rolled back and forth, the long, thin body was drawn up into a ball. The boy appeared to be... crying? There was another, larger boy leaning over the one on the floor. This boy had hair so blond it was almost white. As Filch approached, unheard, the blond boy pointed his wand at the groaning figure at his feet.
"Rictusempra!"
The dark-haired boy uncurled his body and began rolling around helplessly on the rough floor. There were tears streaming down his face, but the tears came from laughter. The boy was laughing so hard that his whole body shook. The standing boy, Lucius Malfoy, was a prefect. Filch was taken aback for a moment. But then Malfoy turned and noticed Filch.
Malfoy pointed his wand again and incanted, "Finite!"
The boy on the floor still hadn't noticed Filch.
"Oh, Lucius," he panted, tears still streaming down his face. "I didn't really mean that you should stop."
Malfoy put a finger to his lips and pointed at Filch with his wand hand. The dark-haired boy's face fell. With that nose, it had to be young Severus Snape. Filch was even more irritated now. Why was one skinny second-year the focus of so much trouble?
Despite his irritation, Filch's tone was obsequious, "Now, Mr. Malfoy. I know you're a prefect, but..."
Filch was interrupted by Malfoy's laughter.
"Oh, Severus. We've been naughty. Do you think he'll use the soft cushions on us?"
The dark-haired boy looked torn between guilt and amusement as he scrambled up from the floor.
"I don't know, Lucius. Maybe he'd prefer to use the rack!"
At this, both boys laughed so hard that they doubled over. Filch had no idea what was going on. Soft cushions? And what was so funny about the rack? He'd like to get these two on the rack, alright. He scowled, and tried to return the tone of this encounter to a properly serious one.
"I didn't expect this kind of behavior from a prefect, Mr. Malfoy. Especially one from such a well-respected family. Now, I don't expect I'll have to put you through a kind of Spanish Inquisition..."
The boys shouted in unison, "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!", before collapsing in uncontrollable laughter.
Argus Filch had had enough. The Malfoys weren't worth punishing. He'd pay for it himself if he dared to go up against anyone from that family. Snape was another matter. He was a half-blood nobody. He'd pay soon enough, Filch promised himself, as he turned on his heel and walked away from the ridiculous children.
Character Pairing: Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape
Prompt: No One Expects the Spanish Inquisition
Rating: G
Word Count: 604
Author's Notes: *pre-slash, *uncontrollable giggling. This started as a response to the 200 words of crack!fic, but it got out of hand. Argus Filch provides our p.o.v., however.
Link to Prompt Table: http://sillypowers.livejournal.com/4098.html
Argus Filch groaned as his back creaked. He hated the dungeons. They were damp and cold. And useless, as far as he was concerned. Once they got rid of the old punishments, the good punishments, there was no point in even having dungeons, was there? He kept his shackles and chains oiled, just in case. But Headmaster Dippet had preferred to turn a blind eye to the miscreants around him, and Headmaster Dumbledore was even worse.
Suddenly his ears perked up. He straightened up hastily, not even noticing the loud cracks his spine made. He heard voices. A voice. A student voice, pleading.
"No! No... Stop! Stop, please, stop!"
For a moment he was thrust back in time, and a student was before him, shackled and pleading for mercy. But the moment was fleeting. This was now, he was not allowed to use his shackles. But he was allowed to catch whoever was making that horrible, wonderful sound.
As Filch rounded the corner, he saw a crumpled figure on the floor. The dark head rolled back and forth, the long, thin body was drawn up into a ball. The boy appeared to be... crying? There was another, larger boy leaning over the one on the floor. This boy had hair so blond it was almost white. As Filch approached, unheard, the blond boy pointed his wand at the groaning figure at his feet.
"Rictusempra!"
The dark-haired boy uncurled his body and began rolling around helplessly on the rough floor. There were tears streaming down his face, but the tears came from laughter. The boy was laughing so hard that his whole body shook. The standing boy, Lucius Malfoy, was a prefect. Filch was taken aback for a moment. But then Malfoy turned and noticed Filch.
Malfoy pointed his wand again and incanted, "Finite!"
The boy on the floor still hadn't noticed Filch.
"Oh, Lucius," he panted, tears still streaming down his face. "I didn't really mean that you should stop."
Malfoy put a finger to his lips and pointed at Filch with his wand hand. The dark-haired boy's face fell. With that nose, it had to be young Severus Snape. Filch was even more irritated now. Why was one skinny second-year the focus of so much trouble?
Despite his irritation, Filch's tone was obsequious, "Now, Mr. Malfoy. I know you're a prefect, but..."
Filch was interrupted by Malfoy's laughter.
"Oh, Severus. We've been naughty. Do you think he'll use the soft cushions on us?"
The dark-haired boy looked torn between guilt and amusement as he scrambled up from the floor.
"I don't know, Lucius. Maybe he'd prefer to use the rack!"
At this, both boys laughed so hard that they doubled over. Filch had no idea what was going on. Soft cushions? And what was so funny about the rack? He'd like to get these two on the rack, alright. He scowled, and tried to return the tone of this encounter to a properly serious one.
"I didn't expect this kind of behavior from a prefect, Mr. Malfoy. Especially one from such a well-respected family. Now, I don't expect I'll have to put you through a kind of Spanish Inquisition..."
The boys shouted in unison, "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!", before collapsing in uncontrollable laughter.
Argus Filch had had enough. The Malfoys weren't worth punishing. He'd pay for it himself if he dared to go up against anyone from that family. Snape was another matter. He was a half-blood nobody. He'd pay soon enough, Filch promised himself, as he turned on his heel and walked away from the ridiculous children.