Ficlet: "Breaking the Fourth Wall" (PG, cross-fandom fic for aalia7)
So... remember that kiss meme I did back in August of last year? I never posted my response to aalia7's prompt! I am rectifying that now, and I will attempt to (finally) respond to wildcard_47's prompt as well very soon!
Title: Breaking the Fourth Wall
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose, Severus Snape, Hermione Granger
Challenge: Kiss meme (kiss with a fist)
Rating: PG
Words: 1,283
A/N: For the very naughty and exceedingly brilliant aalia7
Pain.
The world was pain and blood and the smell of water rot roiling into one great miasma of Death. His death. Because surely Severus Snape was meant to die today.
At least, that’s what the Dark Lord had intended. What even he had intended until that wild-haired Gryffindor had careened into his life and given him something worth living for. Imagine, after all these years…
As he lay on the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack, growing increasingly aware of the fact that he was marinating in a pool of his own blood, Snape began to register the sound of voices and the tread of footsteps on the stairs. The receding venom still hummed through his blood stream and made concentration difficult, but he thought he heard a man’s voice - British, brusque, and authoritative - and an even stranger buzzing very close to his ear.
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“I can’t believe it,” Rose squealed, her eyes shining with excitement. “I know there’re parallel universes, but this? This is incredible!”
“You’re making stealth incredibly difficult, Rose.”
“Sorry,” she whispered, “it’s just - we’re in the Shrieking Shack!”
A few steps ahead of her, sonic screwdriver held aloft, the Doctor rolled his eyes dramatically. He’d been hearing variations of this speech for the past five hours, ever since he revealed the truth about J.K. Rowling’s “fictional” world of witches and wizards and informed her that they had a job to do. His face carefully hidden in shadows, a secret smile twitched at his lips; he loved her excitement, her willingness to believe in new things and to dive into any adventure he proposed.
“Oh, Micky’ll never believe this. He was mad for the Potter books when they came out. Think we can bring him back a wand?”
“We are NOT bringing Mickey back souvenirs. Besides, we have a job to do.”
“Right! Oh my God, is he really right there? Behind that door?”
“Remember what I said, Rose. It’s not going to be pretty; that was a monstrous snake, and there’s bound to be a lot of blood. We might even be too late. Are you sure you don’t want to wait outside?”
“Not on your life! Come on, Doctor - go do some doctorin’!”
The Doctor held up his hand to silence her and, sonic leading the way, he pushed open the door at the top of the stairs. As the blue glow of his screwdriver illuminated the scene, he heard a sharp intake of breath from Rose as her eyes lit on the gruesome tableau in front of them.
There was blood everywhere: spattered across the walls, streaked down the windowpane, and spread in an alarmingly-wide puddle beneath the body of the fallen man. As the Doctor hurried to his side, he hardly dared to hope.
“The blood is fresh, but he’s not breathing, Rose! Quick, hold this.”
Thrusting his sonic screwdriver into Rose’s waiting hand, the Doctor bent over the prone form of the dark-haired wizard and did the only thing he could think of.
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For a blissful moment, Snape thought that Hermione had come back for him. They had agreed this was too risky, that he would meet her as soon as he was able, but perhaps she had seen Potter on his way and returned for him after all. Who else would have their lips pressed so close to his?
When he forced his eyes open, however, he found himself squinting into a bluish glare and the face that looked back at him was undeniably male. Whoever he was, he didn’t seem to notice that Snape had returned to consciousness, and he was lowering himself down for another---
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“OW!!!”
The Doctor reeled back, clutching his nose and spewing a stream of creative expletives the likes of which Rose had never heard in this universe or any other.
“Doctor! Are you all right?”
“He… he punched me,” the Doctor spluttered, stretching a blood-soaked hand to her for proof.
The sound of shuffling and a harsh, gasping breath made them both look to where Severus Snape was lifting himself up onto his elbows. The effort was clearly painful, and Rose wasted no time running to his side to offer her arm as a support. Although he did not reject the aid, Snape looked suspiciously at the girl before focusing his seething, black gaze on the Doctor.
“Who,” he rasped, “are you?”
Clambering to his feet and wiping the blood from his hands onto the leg of his trousers, the Doctor stood above Snape with one hand on his hip.
“How d’you do, Severus Snape? I’m the Doctor,” he said, a silly grin plastered across his bruised face, “and I just saved your life.”
“You bloody well did not.”
Whatever response the Doctor had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that.
“What?!”
“I don’t know who you are or how you know who I am,” Snape said, pulling himself to his feet with the help of Rose who, to her credit, was managing to keep her laughter silent, “but you did not save my life.”
“You weren’t breathing,” the Doctor replied, stepping closer to the wizard until they were only an arm’s breadth apart.
“No, but I was healing.”
“You were--- what??”
“Do you have any idea who I am?”
Despite the shooting pain in his neck and the headache that seemed to be growing every second, Snape drew himself up and subjected the Doctor to the full force of his practiced glare.
“I am Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have spent the better part of my life acting as double-agent in the presence of a mad man with a giant, venomous snake for a pet. If you know me at all - though how you could, I cannot fathom - then you should have surmised that I would have been prepared for every possible outcome. Including death by snake.”
There were a few moments of complete silence while the full impact of Snape’s words seemed to settle in the musty air. The Doctor’s look of absolute, gobsmacked incredulity was almost more than Rose could bear. It wasn’t long, however, before slack-jawed disbelief gave way to the most ridiculous grin Severus Snape had ever had the displeasure to witness.
“Oh ho! Anti-venom, of course! Oh, I knew you were clever - didn’t I tell you he was clever, Rose? I should’ve known, but really, J.K. was awfully vague concerning you. I’ll be having a chat with her very soon, I think. But oh, this changes everything! Fantastic!”
As Snape slumped against her shoulder, exhausted by the effort of standing after so much blood loss, Rose cleared her throat.
“Oy,” the Doctor exclaimed, rushing to Snape’s other side and sliding his body beneath the wizard’s shoulder. “Off to St. Mungo’s with you.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Snape awoke, bandaged and bathed, in a clean bed in the Dai Llewellyn Ward of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, his repeated inquiries about a “Doctor” and his blonde companion were met with sympathetic smiles.
“Hallucinated, poor dear. Venom’ll do that to you, that it will.”
The only one who gave any credence to Snape’s story was a certain curly-haired witch who had arrived at the hospital mere minutes after news of Harry Potter’s defeat of Lord Voldemort had broken and whose appearance had coincided with an inexplicable swooshing sound that had echoed down the halls of the ward with no apparent origin. With the sudden influx of patients from the battle, no one paid much mind to the unlikely pair or to the tall man in a suspiciously-Muggle leather jacket who slipped in while they were both asleep to leave a vase of red roses on the bedside table.
Title: Breaking the Fourth Wall
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose, Severus Snape, Hermione Granger
Challenge: Kiss meme (kiss with a fist)
Rating: PG
Words: 1,283
A/N: For the very naughty and exceedingly brilliant aalia7
Pain.
The world was pain and blood and the smell of water rot roiling into one great miasma of Death. His death. Because surely Severus Snape was meant to die today.
At least, that’s what the Dark Lord had intended. What even he had intended until that wild-haired Gryffindor had careened into his life and given him something worth living for. Imagine, after all these years…
As he lay on the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack, growing increasingly aware of the fact that he was marinating in a pool of his own blood, Snape began to register the sound of voices and the tread of footsteps on the stairs. The receding venom still hummed through his blood stream and made concentration difficult, but he thought he heard a man’s voice - British, brusque, and authoritative - and an even stranger buzzing very close to his ear.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I can’t believe it,” Rose squealed, her eyes shining with excitement. “I know there’re parallel universes, but this? This is incredible!”
“You’re making stealth incredibly difficult, Rose.”
“Sorry,” she whispered, “it’s just - we’re in the Shrieking Shack!”
A few steps ahead of her, sonic screwdriver held aloft, the Doctor rolled his eyes dramatically. He’d been hearing variations of this speech for the past five hours, ever since he revealed the truth about J.K. Rowling’s “fictional” world of witches and wizards and informed her that they had a job to do. His face carefully hidden in shadows, a secret smile twitched at his lips; he loved her excitement, her willingness to believe in new things and to dive into any adventure he proposed.
“Oh, Micky’ll never believe this. He was mad for the Potter books when they came out. Think we can bring him back a wand?”
“We are NOT bringing Mickey back souvenirs. Besides, we have a job to do.”
“Right! Oh my God, is he really right there? Behind that door?”
“Remember what I said, Rose. It’s not going to be pretty; that was a monstrous snake, and there’s bound to be a lot of blood. We might even be too late. Are you sure you don’t want to wait outside?”
“Not on your life! Come on, Doctor - go do some doctorin’!”
The Doctor held up his hand to silence her and, sonic leading the way, he pushed open the door at the top of the stairs. As the blue glow of his screwdriver illuminated the scene, he heard a sharp intake of breath from Rose as her eyes lit on the gruesome tableau in front of them.
There was blood everywhere: spattered across the walls, streaked down the windowpane, and spread in an alarmingly-wide puddle beneath the body of the fallen man. As the Doctor hurried to his side, he hardly dared to hope.
“The blood is fresh, but he’s not breathing, Rose! Quick, hold this.”
Thrusting his sonic screwdriver into Rose’s waiting hand, the Doctor bent over the prone form of the dark-haired wizard and did the only thing he could think of.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For a blissful moment, Snape thought that Hermione had come back for him. They had agreed this was too risky, that he would meet her as soon as he was able, but perhaps she had seen Potter on his way and returned for him after all. Who else would have their lips pressed so close to his?
When he forced his eyes open, however, he found himself squinting into a bluish glare and the face that looked back at him was undeniably male. Whoever he was, he didn’t seem to notice that Snape had returned to consciousness, and he was lowering himself down for another---
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“OW!!!”
The Doctor reeled back, clutching his nose and spewing a stream of creative expletives the likes of which Rose had never heard in this universe or any other.
“Doctor! Are you all right?”
“He… he punched me,” the Doctor spluttered, stretching a blood-soaked hand to her for proof.
The sound of shuffling and a harsh, gasping breath made them both look to where Severus Snape was lifting himself up onto his elbows. The effort was clearly painful, and Rose wasted no time running to his side to offer her arm as a support. Although he did not reject the aid, Snape looked suspiciously at the girl before focusing his seething, black gaze on the Doctor.
“Who,” he rasped, “are you?”
Clambering to his feet and wiping the blood from his hands onto the leg of his trousers, the Doctor stood above Snape with one hand on his hip.
“How d’you do, Severus Snape? I’m the Doctor,” he said, a silly grin plastered across his bruised face, “and I just saved your life.”
“You bloody well did not.”
Whatever response the Doctor had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that.
“What?!”
“I don’t know who you are or how you know who I am,” Snape said, pulling himself to his feet with the help of Rose who, to her credit, was managing to keep her laughter silent, “but you did not save my life.”
“You weren’t breathing,” the Doctor replied, stepping closer to the wizard until they were only an arm’s breadth apart.
“No, but I was healing.”
“You were--- what??”
“Do you have any idea who I am?”
Despite the shooting pain in his neck and the headache that seemed to be growing every second, Snape drew himself up and subjected the Doctor to the full force of his practiced glare.
“I am Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have spent the better part of my life acting as double-agent in the presence of a mad man with a giant, venomous snake for a pet. If you know me at all - though how you could, I cannot fathom - then you should have surmised that I would have been prepared for every possible outcome. Including death by snake.”
There were a few moments of complete silence while the full impact of Snape’s words seemed to settle in the musty air. The Doctor’s look of absolute, gobsmacked incredulity was almost more than Rose could bear. It wasn’t long, however, before slack-jawed disbelief gave way to the most ridiculous grin Severus Snape had ever had the displeasure to witness.
“Oh ho! Anti-venom, of course! Oh, I knew you were clever - didn’t I tell you he was clever, Rose? I should’ve known, but really, J.K. was awfully vague concerning you. I’ll be having a chat with her very soon, I think. But oh, this changes everything! Fantastic!”
As Snape slumped against her shoulder, exhausted by the effort of standing after so much blood loss, Rose cleared her throat.
“Oy,” the Doctor exclaimed, rushing to Snape’s other side and sliding his body beneath the wizard’s shoulder. “Off to St. Mungo’s with you.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Snape awoke, bandaged and bathed, in a clean bed in the Dai Llewellyn Ward of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, his repeated inquiries about a “Doctor” and his blonde companion were met with sympathetic smiles.
“Hallucinated, poor dear. Venom’ll do that to you, that it will.”
The only one who gave any credence to Snape’s story was a certain curly-haired witch who had arrived at the hospital mere minutes after news of Harry Potter’s defeat of Lord Voldemort had broken and whose appearance had coincided with an inexplicable swooshing sound that had echoed down the halls of the ward with no apparent origin. With the sudden influx of patients from the battle, no one paid much mind to the unlikely pair or to the tall man in a suspiciously-Muggle leather jacket who slipped in while they were both asleep to leave a vase of red roses on the bedside table.