This fic was translated from the original French by RaeWhit and submitted with the author's permission. "Comment Harry Potter a sauvé la vie de Severus Snape" par Lychee. Thanks to my betas Cyrianne (French text) and JackieJLH (English translation). Reviews may be left here on Eros and Sappho, or submitted directly to Lychee by accessing her website from her author profile page and clicking on the link "Me Joindre".
This fic is part of a series of one-shots that make up "The Brothel of Lychee". Six of the seven fics will be translated and uploaded as individual stand-alone stories. They were all written well before the release of HBP, and as such, are technically AU.
It was a peaceful day.
Everything was going rather well in the Wizarding world. Voldemort was dead and buried, the birds in Hogwarts' gardens were welcoming spring with happy chirping, and nasty beasts were eating the birds. A large part of the student body was gone for the Hogsmeade visit, while the dungeons were sweating peacefully and Severus Snape was enjoying one of the calm moments to which he was still not accustomed to after all the events of the last several months.
In short, there was no warning of the sudden appearance in his sitting room of his respected superior and mentor, Albus Dumbledore, clothed only in a purple G-string and his star-covered hat, with a knot in his beard.
"Sevyyyyyyyyy!"
The worthy Potions Master, ex-Death Eater for the Light, Order of Merlin, First Class, among other fascinating characteristics uniquely his own—Severus Snape swayed under the shock of the dignified old man throwing himself into his arms. He opened his mouth, attempting to find an appropriate remark for the occasion, but was cut off by the French-kiss of the century. Before he had the time to do anything or even comprehend what was happening, he found himself stripped to the waist and tied to the bed in the next room.
"Er…Albus?" was all he managed to get past his lips. Then his blood curdled when the old man began removing a series of objects from his old and especially large bag, whose primary purposes were certainly not to preserve the virginity of their victim. Not that Severus was still at that stage of things, but he valued his apparent honor, and the situation didn't seem to be in his favor.
"Albus," he tried more firmly. If the old man had finally lost his marbles, then reasoning with him wouldn't help at all, but for the moment, he couldn't see anything else he could do.
The respectable Headmaster, a whip in his hand, gave him a mischievous wink, and Severus held back a scream of despair. He had survived two wars, not to mention two generations of students, fifteen-some years of spying, and seven Weasleys, and now he was going to be raped by a 196 year-old wizard.
After a quick reflection, he screamed.
Until Albus stuffed a cucumber in his mouth.
"Ahwrwghamf!" he still tried.
"Yes, yes, good boy," his aggressor said distractedly as he lined up a series of pliers on the edge of the bed.
Severus closed his eyes and tried to faint. Couldn't do it. Opened his eyes again. Glancing over, he saw that the old wizard was starting to take off his undergarment, wriggling his hips seductively, his hat slanted rakishly down over an eye.
He drifted in the beneficent limbo of unconsciousness, refusing to think about what his poor, little, mortal body was about to be subjected to, when the sound of a door slamming open and a resounding "Stupefy!" brought him back to earth. Sixty-eight kilos of stunned and naked Dumbledore fell onto his chest; then lifting his head with difficulty, he saw Harry Potter at the foot of the bed, staring at him with the skeptical look of one who's not sure whether to explode with laughter or flee screaming.
Oh fuck.
The boy awkwardly cleared his throat.
"If—um—if you're a consenting party, Professor, just tell me and I…I'll revive him and I'm out of here," he said hesitantly in a voice quivering with restrained laughter.
"Mmppfffmmm!"
"Oh, sorry!"
Potter graciously removed the vegetable from his mouth, his face impassive but his eyes sparkling. Then without a word, he finished by untying the poor Potions professor. Finally, Severus pushed off the unconscious body that was still squashing him, and he made a grimace of disgust—and retrospective terror—before turning to his happy savior.
"Thanks," he murmured with some regret.
"Huh?" Harry looked away from the appetizing torso he was inspecting—and we're not talking about Dumbledore—and gave him a radiant smile. "Oh, you're welcome. I really owed you that. And er…how?" He shifted from one foot to the other as he gestured to Dumbledore with his chin.
"I imagine that stress finally got the best of his mental stability," Severus replied dryly as got up to pull on his shirt, turning his back. "Potter… It would help me a great deal if you'd stop your stupid sniggering."
"I'm sorry." The brat was almost crying from laughing. "You mean the let-up post Voldemort and all that?" he offered a little more seriously.
"Yes." He finished buttoning his dear robes with a slight sigh of relief, and then turned back.
"Ah." The brat was staring at their Headmaster, contemplating him with the fascination that children have for the body of a frog squashed on the side of the roadway. "What…what are we going to do with him?"
"Turn him loose in the corridor." Potter stared at him wide-eyed. "Don't be stupid," Severus said. "Take him to Madam Pomfrey."
"Oh."
There was a long, long, long silence.
"Professor?" the adolescent asked almost dreamily.
"Yes?" Severus replied distractedly.
"You've never thought that Professor Dumbledore was a complete arsehole?"
"I confess that I've had occasion to wish him a horrible death," Severus admitted cautiously.
They stared at each other, the same ferocious smile spreading over both of their faces.
***
"Ahhrrgh?"
Severus gently patted his superior's shoulder, once more clothed with his ten square centimeters of spangled fabric, while Potter quickly gathered up the objects scattered about the room.
"Exactly, Albus," said the man in a calm and reasonable voice. "Cornelius Fudge is waiting for you in your office, and it appears that he has plenty of things to tell you."
"Agah?" Dumbledore repeated as he waved a fluorescent dildo in front of his face.
"Something like that, yes," Severus agreed as he steered him to the door. "Hurry now, and go see him. You wouldn't want to keep him waiting, would you?"
Potter gave the old man his bag. Then they watched, content smiles on their faces, as he ran away down the corridor, eliciting screams from the students passing by.
With an ecstatic sigh, Severus finally closed the door. His student had fallen into an armchair, and was grimacing a disturbing smile as he looked at the ceiling.
"Professor?"
"Hmm?"
"Rita Skeeter is with the Minister," Potter announced, looking like the cat that had fallen into the cream pot.
They burst into demonic laughter.
"Well," Severus finally said, regaining his calm and his sang-froid. "I don't suppose you came here solely to save me from a horrible fate. Is there somethng I can do for you?"
"Absolutely." The adolescent smiled.
Then he threw himself on the man and delivered the second French-kiss of the century, and once again, before Severus had the time to do anything or even comprehend what was happening, he found himself stripped to the waist and tied to the bed in the next room.
He sighed despondently while Potter took his turn to undress; there would be no one to save him this time.
As if he cared….
FIN