The Large Cauldron Collider Ficlet

[drachenmina]

Written for snapelike's Large Cauldron Collider Ficlet Fest


Title: Thinking of England
Author: drachenmina
Rating: NC17
Word Count: ~1,900
Pairing(s)/character(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Stephen Hawking
Summary: Post DH AU.
Warnings: : Crack
Prompts: : a slinky dress, doing it doggy style and...
"Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?"
…which, um, I didn’t quite manage to fit in! :D
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. With heartfelt apologies to Stephen Hawking whom I have shamefully misrepresented here. Probably. ;D
Beta-read by the marvellous blpaintchart *smooches*





Lingering at the back of the overfull lecture theatre as the wheelchair-bound genius wound up his lecture in strangely-accented mechanical tones, Severus became aware to his displeasure that he was not the only wizard in the house. Harry Potter stood only a few feet away, a dreamy expression on his annoyingly gormless features as he gazed down at possibly the most brilliant man the human race had ever produced.

“Potter! What the hell are you doing here?” Severus hissed. “I am quite certain you could not have understood more than one word in fifty!”

“Oh, hi, Professor!” Potter greeted him cheerfully. “Nah, one word in five hundred, I’d say. I mean, I was all right with Good morning, my name is Stephen Hawking, but he sort of lost me after that.”

“So why, Potter, are you here? Taking up valuable air space in the vicinity of a man whose very wheels you are not fit to polish?” Severus sneered.

Potter pouted. “Hey, what’s your problem? I’ve just always had a bit of a thing for brilliant, difficult men who aren’t conventionally attractive, that’s all.” He ignored Severus’ suspicious look, and continued, “Anyway, what are you doing here? I mean, spring theory and the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything, it’s not really your thing, is it?”

“String theory, Potter, and no, ordinarily it is not. However, I have,” Severus cleared his throat, “I have encountered a slight problem, and am here to ask for assistance from Professor Hawking, who happens to be an old acquaintance of mine.”

“Really? Hey, anything I could help with?” Potter asked with annoying enthusiasm.

“That, Potter, is unlikely in the extreme.” Severus sighed. “However, I will admit you do have some experience in matters such as saving the world. Come along.” He strode swiftly down the stairs of the emptying theatre, glaring at any students rash enough to get in his way and ignoring Potters excited questions of “Saving the world? Really? Who from?” as he bounded along at Severus’ heels like an overexcited Crup.

-SEVERUS, IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN AFTER SO LONG, Professor Hawking greeted him with as much warmth as his mechanical voice would allow. –I JUST DON’T SEEM TO FIND THE TIME TO GET DOWN TO THE BIG BANG BONDAGE BORDELLO THESE DAYS.

“Well, never mind that now,” Severus muttered, with a glance at Potter, who thankfully appeared not to have heard. “Thank you for agreeing to see me at such short notice. Now, is there anywhere we can discuss this in private?”

-OF COURSE, FOLLOW ME.

Motors whirring, the scientist led the way into a side room. –NOW, HOW CAN I HELP YOU?

Again Severus felt the need to clear his throat. “Well, Stephen, I’m afraid I had a slight mishap with one of my experiments. I have been investigating the possibility of establishing an automated brewing process on an industrial scale, using expansion charms and temporal magic to control the timings, and, well, things,” he closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against aching temples, “things did not quite go according to plan.”

“So what went wrong?” Potter burst in excitedly. “And how does saving the world come into it?”

Severus glared at him. “What went wrong, Potter, is that at approximately lunchtime on Wednesday, a cauldron the size of Wembley Stadium is set to collide with the Earth, causing a massive explosion and leaving a bloody great crater where England used to be.”

“Well, bugger,” Potter commented. He brightened. “Hey, as long as it takes out Little Whinging, it can’t be all bad. So what’s Professor Hawking supposed to do about it? And how come we’re talking about magic in front of him, anyway?”

“Professor Hawking, Potter, is not only a brilliant physicist; in his spare time he has conducted extensive theoretical research into the nature of ritual magic. He is a Squib.”

-I PREFER MAGICALLY CHALLENGED, ACTUALLY.

“Sorry, Stephen.”

“Oh. So, um, do you think I’ll be able to help? I’m more your defeating-evil-megalomaniacs sort of bloke really, but if there’s anything I can do?” Potter asked hopefully.

-THERE IS.

“Yeah? Really? You’re not just saying that?” Potter was almost panting in his enthusiasm to work with the great scientist, Severus noted sourly.

-YOU WILL BE REQUIRED FOR THE RITUAL. WE WILL UTILISE RITUAL MAGIC TO HARNESS THE POWER OF HAWKING RADIATION AND DIVERT THE COURSE OF THE CAULDRON.

Potter beamed moronically. “And what about me?” Severus asked, feeling a little left out. After all, it was his cauldron that was going to annihilate England – had they forgotten that?

-YOU WILL BE REQUIRED AS WELL. I WILL GIVE YOU DETAILED INSTRUCTIONS AND A LIST OF THINGS WE WILL REQUIRE FOR THE RITUAL.

**************************

Just before dawn on Wednesday, a motley crowd gathered by the monoliths at Stonehenge. Severus glared at a party of Druids who had already taken up residence, and sent them packing with a few well-aimed stinging hexes.

“Bloody hell, Snape, do I really have to wear this?” Potter whined as he tottered awkwardly into the stone circle.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, Potter. We’ll just explain to the entire population of England that they will be dead in a few hours because Harry Potter is too insecure in his masculinity to don a ceremonial robe for half an hour, shall we?”

“Hey! I’m fine in my masculinity, thank you very much. It’s just – white? It makes me look all washed out. Couldn’t I have had something in green, to bring out my eyes? And anyway, since when were ceremonial robes quite this slinky and strappy? And the heels are bloody killing me.”

“I told you to practise walking in them!” Severus snapped, exasperated beyond belief by the brat’s constant whinging. His nerves were growing, which was ridiculous really, since after all, if the ritual failed, there would be plenty of time to apparate to safety afterwards. He hoped. At any rate, at least he should have no difficulty fulfilling his role in the ritual – as long as he kept his dratted mouth shut, Potter looked truly fetching in that diaphanous white dress, ahem robe, clinging as it did to every contour. “Now, on your knees!” he ordered, feeling that they ought to make a start.

Potter complied, but gave Severus a suspicious glance as he did so. “You’re sure this isn’t just an excuse for you to indulge a long-held fantasy of dominating me sexually?” he asked dubiously.

“Of course not! I should hardly have got the Professor and his bloody nerd-herd involved if it were!” Severus snapped derisively.

“Oh,” said Potter, sounding oddly disappointed.

Severus glanced at the Professor, who was watching them with approval. “I take it the particle accelerator beam is ready?” he enquired, trying to sound like he had a clue how it was all supposed to work.

-EVERYTHING IS PREPARED. YOU MAY COMMENCE THE RITUAL.

Severus mentally girded his loins, in preparation for the physical girding they would shortly require, and tried to ignore the fact that the Professor had brought along half-a-dozen lab assistants suffering from varying stages of terminal acne to set up the equipment. He’d be Obliviating the lot of them later – if they lived long enough, that was. But now, to business.

“I take it you have come prepared, Potter?” he asked.

“Oh – yeah. Wait a mo.”

Severus watched as Potter fossicked around in a tiny jewelled clutch bag Severus was sure hadn’t been on the Professor’s list, and produced a condom. “There you go!”

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter, that was not what I meant – and anyway, we are quite possibly about to die, and you are worried about safe sex?”

“Hey, you should be safe every time, you know. Oh, and there’s this, as well.” The clutch bag disgorged an improbably large tub of KY Jelly.

Well, at least that was more like it. “Now, let’s get down to it,” Severus said grimly.

-REMEMBER, TIMING IS CRUCIAL.

“If he doesn’t shut up and allow me to try and forget that we are being observed by him and his acne-ridden entourage, this is not going to happen at all, let alone at the right time!” Severus muttered tetchily.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you a bit of a hand, all right?” suggested Potter with irritating cheerfulness, as he shuffled around on his hands and knees until he was facing Severus, and eyed his groin expectantly whilst licking his lips.

Suddenly, for some reason, Severus had no further doubts about his ability to perform. “No time for that,” he told the boy regretfully, turning him round again. Quickly he prepared himself, and as the sun began to rise, its first faint rays touching the monoliths, he lifted the satin skirts and gently but firmly breached Potter’s entrance. Severus moaned despite himself at the sensation of penetrating that tight young arse. Dammit, it had been far too long. Behind him, he could hear a whining as the particle beam thingummy (physics had never been his strong suit) warmed up. He pushed in further, causing a deep groan to come from the boy’s throat.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Potter moaned, in a tone Severus liked rather better than his previous whine. “Fu-uck!” he repeated unsteadily as Severus pushed in again, finally all the way inside. “Bloody hell, Snape, if I’d known you were this well hung I’d have paid a damn sight more attention in Potions class!”

Severus felt that sarcasm would be uncalled for whilst he was embedded in Potter’s exquisitely hot, tight orifice – and in any case, all his snappy replies appeared to have deserted him for the moment. Breathing harshly, he pulled out almost to the tip, and then thrust in again firmly. “Fu-u-uck!” the boy wailed, and Severus was filled with regret that, for the sake of the country, he would have to finish this soon rather than draw it out until Potter had completely turned to a babbling, needy jelly. He sped up his thrusts, almost delirious with sensation yet still conscious of the sun’s progress, and just as the full circle of the celestial body was visible over the horizon, he thrust once more into Potter’s celestial body and came, shuddering. A loud click in the background indicated that the ray thingy had switched on and Severus collapsed, utterly spent, on Potter’s back.

Only to be thrown off again by an agitated Potter. “Oh, God, I ruined it!” he wailed. “We’re all going to die and it’s all my fault!”

“Potter, what on Earth are you blithering about?” Severus snarled, not best pleased at having his afterglow interrupted by an overwrought teenager.

“I couldn’t hold on! I came too soon! It just felt too, too good – and now we’re all going to die…”

Severus glared at him, then turned to Professor Hawking and his team of sebaceously-challenged scientists. “Is this true?” he demanded. “Has the attempt failed?”

-NOT AT ALL. THE BEAM WORKED PERFECTLY AND THE CAULDRON HAS BEEN DEFLECTED. WE ARE SAFE.

“But how?” babbled Potter tearfully. “I fucked up the ritual!”

-AH. THE RITUAL WAS NOT STRICTLY NECESSARY.

“What?”

“What?”

-SORRY TO DECEIVE YOU. I JUST WANTED TO WATCH.



Fin.