Fic: Tombstone, the Town Too Tough To Die
My team won gold! SWEET!
Title: Tombstone, the Town Too Tough To Die
Author: wook77
Team: Snitch!
Genre(s): EWE
Prompt(s): Hunger or Alchemy, Go West
Rating PG-13
Warnings/Kinks:
Word Count: ~2790
Summary: Some of the things you find in Tombstone - copper, cowboys, rattlesnakes, sunshine, wooden sidewalks, gunfights, and one Severus Snape (the man too tough to die).
Author Notes/Disclaimers/Betas May thanks to djin7 for encouraging this and hosting the snarry_games. Also, many thanks to raewhit for beta'ing my work. Obviously, all mistakes are my own. I appreciate the opportunity to participate! I must admit that this was partially inspired by anathema91's recent visit with me to Tombstone. She now has Snarry Cooties on her.
Somewhere along the line, Harry's life went from constant excitement to tedium to children to tedium interspersed with moments of complete terror (brought on by his children) to a monotony to a surprise divorce to travelling around the world, speaking about proper investigation skills to Wizard Law Enforcement groups the world round. If one were to ask him (and of course no one ever did because he was Harry Potter and no one, except for his children, questioned a thing he did) if he'd ever expected to travel along that path, he would've definitely answered in the negative. As it was, however, his children accepted the fact that their father was highly in demand, probably due to the fact that his children had grown up with the Wizarding press following them about and reporting their every move in the papers, as if Albus Severus learning to piss in the toilet was worthy of being reported.
His speaking engagements had come as a surprise to all of them. First there'd been that crazy wizard in Mexico that his compatriot had asked for a consult on. That consult had turned into a visit to Australia to help with a serial killer. From there, he was off to Bora Bora, ostensibly for a vacation but, as things were prone to do around him, however, he'd ended up catching the infamous Helowina Heddington, the Mad Butcheress of Morocco, while they'd both been napping in the sun on a beach.
He wasn't bitter about the path his life had taken. Instead, he went with the flow, enjoying the evolution of his career and his life, along with the fact that his scar hadn't ached in over twenty years. If he longed to see his children more often, he had only himself to blame for the fact that he wasn't in England all that much due to the constraints of his job. Add in the fact that all of his children were away at school anyway and the point was moot, regardless.
This path was what had lead him to be in the Southwest United States, speaking to a group of Wizard Law Enforcement from around the region on what sort of investigative skills each of their departments should encourage. He'd no sooner stepped out of the conference centre and onto the main street of Tombstone, before he stopped so abruptly that the wizard behind him slammed into his back and sent both of them toppling into the dusty thoroughfare.
"So sorry, Mister Potter, ever so sorry," the man stuttered as he righted himself.
Harry barely heard the man as he picked himself up and rushed after the figure he'd seen across the way. By the time he'd reached the abandoned mines, the figure was completely out of sight.
He'd recognize that silhouette anywhere, even if he hadn't seen it in over twenty years.
~*~
Harry found himself distracted throughout the next day's presentations, barely answering any questions and certainly not listening to any of the other speakers. As they broke for the midday meal, Harry made his excuses to his compatriots and headed back towards the abandoned mines. The Muggle tourists crowded the place to the point that he knew that finding a purported dead man was going to be impossible. But this was the Old West where the impossible was possible and men rose from the dead all the time (if the stories were to be believed).
Thankfully, he had enough Muggle money to take a tour deep into one of the mines. The tour guide seemed to take far too much delight in forcing an awful hard hat on his head. The tourists boggled at his accent and attempted to have him say the most ridiculous things as they stood in a circle and introduced themselves. By the time the tour started, Harry was annoyed and dripping with sweat.
By the time the tour ended, Harry was annoyed, dripping with sweat, dusty and tired. There wasn't a single sign of anything other than fool's gold and tourist traps down there. Good Enough, indeed, he scoffed to himself as he came out of the ground from the Good Enough mine.
It wasn't until dinner that night that he caught another glimpse of that silhouette. This time, it was approaching down the wooden sidewalk straight towards him. "I see you haven't got any better at skulking about, Potter."
"Snape." Harry braced himself for an attack.
"And I see your ability to state the obvious remains at high levels."
"You're dead."
"I stand corrected. Your ability to state the obvious is astounding. You have truly exceeded expectations at that skill. It is no wonder that you are in such high demand the world over."
"You're still an arsehole."
"You're still a judgmental child."
"Is this where I say 'I know you are but what am I'?" Harry reached out a hand and found himself pleasantly surprised when Severus Snape shook it.
"How did you find me?"
"I didn't. I'm here for a conference. All I really have to do is smile, shake hands and look impressive."
"I see some things never change."
"Including the way that disdain drips from your every word."
"Quite."
"Why're you here?" Harry blurted out.
"Here as in 'still alive' or as in 'Tombstone'?"
"Both?"
"Allow me to answer both, then, just for your amusement. The answer is 'none of your business'."
"I think it is. I saw you die."
"No. You saw me slip into unconsciousness. You assumed that meant death."
"Point taken."
"Harry Potter listening to something I had to say. I must admit to wondering if the world will now end. I can die happy and satisfied, as the great Harry Potter listened to me."
"Can I buy you dinner?" Harry gestured towards the assortment of saloons, restaurants, saloons with restaurants and restaurants with saloons.
"Anything but Big Nose Kate's. I find the impersonators to be disturbing."
"Not a fan of Wyatt Earp?"
"Doc Holliday, actually. The man actually thinks he is Doc Holliday. Drags a piano up and down the street and never breaks character. I find it unnatural."
"But pretending to actually be dead for twenty years isn't?"
"There was no need to pretend. I simply moved to a warmer climate."
"Thousands of miles away from England."
"That would be one of the benefits, yes."
"No spurs?" Harry asked as Snape turned on a heel and walked towards a saloon with the traditional swinging doors.
"I beg your pardon." Snape headed towards the bar and Harry followed him, waving towards one of the participants of the conference where they sat watching the saloon girl dance show.
"No denims either."
"Whyever would I wear them?"
"To fit in."
"Yes, Potter, because that is one of my greatest dreams, ever since I was a child, I've wanted to be a cowboy and wear spurs and denims while spitting in a spittoon with a saloon girl on my lap. I'm shocked that you hadn't noticed my deep longing before."
"We could've got along so much better if you'd only confessed."
"Pint of Harp's," Snape ordered.
"Bud Light, please," Harry ordered and barely resisted the urge to smack Snape when he snorted in derision. Yes, things certainly hadn't changed in twenty years.
"Your taste hasn't improved."
"Taste in what?"
"Take your pick, Potter. Alcohol, company, associates, career, locale."
"Yes, the current company certainly hasn't changed since the last time you saw me. Of course we used to share a pint, didn't we?" Harry saw the barb hit as Snape stared at him. He'd have to mark this one down somewhere, as not only had he discovered that Severus Snape was alive, but they were currently sharing a rather amicable pint of beer together.
"I meant that your current circle of friends and associates has not changed."
"Well, I'd beg to differ, as I hadn't had children the last time you saw me."
"Because procreating is the epitome of life."
"So says the man that took great delight in tormenting children for years."
"I miss those days." It was said so wryly that Harry believed Snape for a moment before laughing loud enough to startle the people around them.
"He has a sense of humour!" he said to the group at large before going back to his pint and debating whether he wanted the buffalo burger or not.
"Amazing."
"So what do you do here all day?"
"I run the apothecary shop."
"Of course you do."
"Quite."
"How's the buffalo burger?" Harry asked to fill the silence that started to creep in.
"I've no idea."
"Don't eat here often?"
"Potter, your inane chatter about unimportant trivialities annoy me. Perhaps you might want to ask the important questions you're bound to have while my willingness to humour you remains."
Perhaps things hadn't changed as much as Harry might have thought. Snape was still a bitter bastard, regardless of the possibility of a sense of humour, and Harry instantly reverted to a teenager once more. "So, you and my mum, huh?"
"This trip down memory lane is now at an end. You may pick up the cheque for my drink." With that, Snape got off the barstool and walked out of the bar.
"Get you another?" the barkeeper asked, gesturing towards Harry's empty pint glass.
"Yes, please. How's the buffalo burger?"
"Best in town."
"I'll have one of those and a side of chips, please."
"We've got fries."
"Yes, those. If you could add in the other gentleman's drink to my tab, as well, please."
"Sure thing. Never seen him with anyone."
"Has he lived here long?"
"Moved into town 'round 'bout three years ago."
"He said he ran the apothecary shop?"
"Ayah, it's just down Allen, near the O.K. Café." With that, the man ambled off and put Harry's order in to the kitchen.
"Thanks," Harry called out after the man. He sipped his pint as he watched the dance show and the tourists. There were one or two people from the conference, but it was obvious that they, too, were Muggle-born and much more comfortable here rather than at the one Wizarding hotel in town.
In the morning, Harry ignored the conference and made his way to the apothecary. Snape wasn't to be seen, but Harry didn't allow that to stop him. He walked around to the back of the shop and slipped in the backdoor only to find Snape working.
"Knocking, of course, would be far beneath Harry Potter."
"Just 'Harry', please." Harry grinned at Snape. He hadn't a clue why needling Snape was as entertaining as it was, but the entire experience was surreal enough that he just went with the feeling.
"I'd rather not."
"But if you don't call me 'Harry', then I can't call you 'Severus' and our friendship would disintegrate before my eyes."
"And that would be a shame." Snape didn't look up from the array of plants in front of him as he worked over a small cauldron.
"You ever think about moving back home?"
"Home, Potter? And where would that be, pray tell?"
"You know, England."
"Ah, yes, your home."
"So you're saying that Tombstone is now your home?"
"No, you simpleton, I'm saying that you are basing your entire position on the premise that my home is your home. It is not." Snape still didn't look up from the cauldron as he gave it a thirteenth stir before tapping the rod three times on the left side and then withdrawing it before adding in a cut root that looked familiar to Harry.
"Does this mean that you don't want to rent a flat with me?" Harry asked as he watched Snape add six rose petals.
"That's exactly what it means." The rod went back into the potion and stirred, counterclockwise, seven and one-third times.
"I'm crushed."
"You'll recover, I'm sure."
"Is that…"
"Yes?"
"That's Lunastratum!"
"If you are going to shock me, please do warn me. In my advanced age, I find my heart unable to take that sort of shock to the system."
"But that potion is only manufactured by one person. Dear Merlin! You're the source of Lunastratum. Holy shite."
"You've now solved the mystery of the world. Congratulations, Potter, you'll get another Order of Merlin for this."
"Who knew you had it in you to come up with a cure for lycanthropy." Harry paused for a moment and then realised even more. "You're also behind Memoriandus, aren't you?"
"What possibly led you to that leap of logic?"
"You cured Neville's mum."
"I certainly have no idea what you are babbling on about. Do remove yourself from my presence."
"I'm the Head of the Aurors, Snape. I know that those two potions come from the same source so don't try to lie to me. You cured Bill and you cured Neville's mum. You're a hero. If they knew who you were, you'd get the Order of Merlin, to be sure." Harry moved closer, peering over Snape's shoulder to watch him as he worked. The process was fascinating as the potion turned from pink to chartreuse in front of his eyes. Another tap, a stir clockwise and the potion went lavender.
"And, of course, I want that dearly. I'll rush right back to England now, shall I?"
"Why don't you want recognition for your work?"
"I have already received more than enough recognition for my work, thank you. The door is behind you."
"You talking about the way that your name's been cleared, your portrait hung as a former Headmaster of Hogwarts and my son's named after you? Or are you talking about all the articles singing the praises of the anonymous potions inventor?"
"All of the above and then some. Step back before you ruin this batch," Snape ordered as he added in more ingredients. "Don't you have a conference to attend? Simpering masses to fawn over you?"
Harry dutifully stepped back half a step. When Snape made to turn, they found themselves awkwardly close together. Harry didn't move and grinned when Snape took a rushed step backwards. "Careful. You'll ruin your batch."
"You haven't changed a bit."
"Nope." Harry beamed at Snape as Snape looked from side to side. Unable to resist, Harry stepped forward once more, invading Snape's personal space. "Miss me?"
"Like a blight unto my world."
"Blights can be good things, you know," Harry said as he leaned in just a bit more, trapping Snape between the table and himself. "They allow for a renewal of the environment, for one."
By the time he'd finished speaking, he was a hairsbreadth from Snape. In point of fact, so close was he that he could barely see the flush that suffused Snape's skin, but he could feel the puffs of breath as Snape leaned back even further, arching so that his hips rocked forward to keep his balance. "You're quite flexible for an old man."
"I'll show you old man," Snape said, anger apparent. "It is impolite and quite unwise to play with me so."
"Who says I'm playing?"
"I do."
"Then allow me to make my next move," Harry said and then leaned further so that his lips brushed across Snape's. "What do you plan on doing about it?"
Snape's hands grabbed Harry's shirt, fisting into them and giving him a shake. It was amazing how well Snape kept his balance with how they were leaning over the potion. "I always knew that you harbored fantasies about me."
"I do believe Severus Snape is attempting to flirt. Should I look out the window for the clouds of doom rushing down upon us?"
"If you refuse to move, Potter…"
"I wouldn't want your back to go out."
"You're an infant."
Harry decided that any verbal response to Snape's insult would only result in further bickering and derail the interesting and unexpected path they'd suddenly started upon. Instead, he stood up, bringing Snape with him. Reaching up to thread his fingers through Snape's hair, Harry pulled Snape closer. "I could say something about 'do I feel like an infant to you' or 'do you do this sort of thing with infants often', but I'll resist and show you just how adult I am."
"Amazing how you resisted saying those things."
"You going to do anything about this or …"
"What would you want me to do?"
"What about I ride your cock?"
"This way, Potter," Snape said as he started towards the small staircase at the back of the room. "And if you make one comment about wanting spurs, I'll toss you out on your ear."
As always, I'd love to hear what you thought.