schemingreader

This was one of those things that seemed like such a good idea at the time, and now...I don't know. I wanted to do something really special for bethbethbeth's 50th birthday, and I was chatting with Rexluscus, who was writing papers about Edmund Spenser, and it...just happened. I wrote a hurt/comfort Snarry fic in Spenserian stanzas, opening with an introduction that refers to a famous (?) work of 15th century Yiddish poetry.

Now I'm finding that LJ won't let me edit the original post to PolarBabe09, the birthday comm we made, and part of a line is missing. I'm therefore reposting the whole thing on DW with a hopeful cross-post to LJ. That way, the three or four people who are dedicated enough to read something like this can see it and comment. Thanks to Rexluscus and Regan_V for beta-reading, and to my non-fandom friend with a black-belt in doggerel.


A Little Death

1. Spenserian stanzas aren't the same verse form
As Eliyahu Levita once chose
To write the tale of Buovo, to perform
A cultural translation, one that rose
To levels unattainable by prose.
There's nothing like a great enduring work
Of Yiddish writing. Though I don't suppose
That Buovo was a traitor and a jerk--
Great knights don't have to smolder, skulk and sulk and lurk.

2. I tell a tale of Snape, that bitter man
Whose love was squeezed from him like blood from stone
Like juices from a sour lemon, ran
And left him bleeding, hopeless and alone
And left him, hoping that he had atoned
And left him, dying, on that dusty floor
With death's cold fingers rattling his bones
Though peace was creeping on him, smug and sure
He'd die there, in the Shack, and love's reward endure.

3. But something must go wrong, when you are Snape
When even your first name sounds like "severe"
When you have swooped around in your black cape
When you have billowed, bellowed, whispered, sneered
You think you die at peace? That would be weird
When some think "drama" is your middle name.
No, you won't die, though through the Veil you've peered
No, you won't die, and Potter is to blame
That stupid hero boy must save you, more's the shame.

4. No one had warned you that he might return
Might find you, still alive and coughing gore
Might yet survive, and in surviving, learn
That no one living cared about you more.
The boy who lived to lift you from the floor
And in his arms, he didn't use a wand.
You do not mean to groan, but you are sore
Say pain near death, so he can understand!
He has to know. He traps your fingers in his hand.


5. "We thought that you were dead," he must explain
Shut up now, Potter, hush, you idiot child
Just let me die now, let this ceaseless pain
Come to an end. Let me, alone, reviled
Draw my last breath. Don't pat my arm and smile
I wanted to see Lily now, not you
Why am I here, my love has been defiled.
You're raving now, you're feverish and wild
He ought to leave you, from those lovely eyes exiled.

6. "He's not a boy," your thudding heart declares
You rested your weak head against his chest
And bounced against it, up the flights of stairs.
He, panting, gasping, never stopped to rest
As though your life were yet another test
That he must pass, to prove that he could save
What should have died, to prove that he could best
His fear of death, and what's more, to be brave--
As brave as Lily, whose bright love, like you, he craved.

7. "I'll tell you all about her if you'll leave,"
You whisper to him, though it makes no sense.
"You'll tell about her?" No, he can't believe
You'll give him what he wants, though it's immense.
He looks at you, you see he is incensed
But quelling it because he thinks you're ill.
"You will not die this time," he says, intense
He means to keep you living by his will.
You nearly laugh, he's so much Potter's child, still.

8."I'm staying here," says Harry, and you sigh.
You close your eyes to shut out all his friends
Who finally noticed that he has the spy
Right where he wants him. Now so much depends
On whether Poppy hates you, or defends
Your right to sleep here, as you often did
When you were younger and your mum would send
Her cold but gentle letters you kept hid
You were a secret, frail and lonely little kid.

9. And when you drift to sleep, there are no dreams
There is no fear, for all the fears came true
And now you are alive, bandaged, and clean
With Harry Potter sitting next to you
It is absurd, to think what you've been through
Since first you had to be under the matron's care.
Oh Lily, what if I had saved you, too--
"What's that?" he asks. He leans back in the chair.
He'll be asleep soon too, but you don't care. He's there.


10."The Dark Lord's dead?" you ask him, once awake.
"He seems to be," he says, "He did come back."
"The first time that you killed him." "A mistake--
"You meant that Lily killed him," the attack
Returns you to your mind, a shadow, black,
A bad taste in your mouth, your blood you think
"I meant, it wasn't me," he says, his slack
Grip tightens on you, pale cheeks turning pink.
"I'm sorry," he says. From his awkward touch, you shrink.

11. "And even this time," he says, forging on
"I know you killed him, much more so than I,
"I understand now, know that I was wrong,
"I understand--" "No, Potter, that's a lie,
"You couldn't know. You would have let me die."
He smooths the cover. "You still wish for death?
"I thought it was the fever. Wait, I'll try--"
He feels your forehead. You suck in a breath.
(How do you like the sexual tension, bethbethbeth?)

12. "I'm suicidal because I deserve
"To die for what I've done, for whom I've killed."
("Don't stroke my hair!" you scream inside, unnerved.)
"Christ, Potter, stop! I wonder if you're ill."
"What, me? No, I--" "Surely you've had your fill,
"Of death, near death, deatheaters, the Dark Lord
"And those who followed him. Say what you will,
"I've done my duty to you, brought the Sword,
"Now you can leave, unless you need a pill
"Or healing potion. Madame Pomfrey works here, still."

13. "All right," he says, and he withdraws his hand.
He hasn't lost his temper. He's confused.
"You loved my mother, I don't understand
Why you hate me, and why you have refused
To tell me--something. If I have abused
Your patience, it's because I didn't know--"
"You weren't supposed to know," your voice accused
You meant to show compassion, not to show
Your helpless irritation. Would he go? "Just go."

14. Now finally you're alone and you can try
To pull yourself together and get out
Now that you know he's living, you won't cry
For Lily's losses--your private grief about
Her poor child's death--her boy with that sad lout--
Whom you dislike, and who should feel hate for you.
He will not follow, he'll just sit and pout
If you escape--you're almost sure it's true
If you can't die, you'll disappear and fade from view.

15. It's only a few weeks that you're alone
Three peaceful weeks. All right, at first you're sick
At every meal. You kneel before the throne
And vomit dinner. Now you're not so quick
To eat at all, and when you do, you pick
Dry toast and tea. Except you're out of bread
And you're not hungry. Unwound clocks still tick
In your dark house, where still you lie abed
Asleep, not dreaming, never wishing you were dead.


16. You hear the four young voices on the stair
It is not Potter, but four other kids.
It isn't as though Potter really cares
You feel surprised that anybody did.
Although you are the one who ran and hid.
But there are four--a senior from each house?
And all the students know just what you did.
"Listen, Malfoy, don't be a big girl's blouse."
"Oh shut up, Abbott. He's my head of fucking house."

17. "Let Luna go," you hear another voice.
"At least she got good marks in Potions Class."
"And in Defence," as though they had a choice
Since Lovegood's braver than the rest en masse
And clever too, no, she was not an ass
You would not hex her, though she can be strange.
She won't behave as though you're made of glass
She'll tell the truth, and ask it in exchange.
They're coming in, all four, before it's all arranged.

18. Malfoy begins to weep. Longbottom, kind,
Pats Malfoy's back. Abbott's face is pale.
"We've come to get you, sir. Hope you don't mind,
Harry said we had to, without fail."
Like Lovegood, she stands fast and doesn't quail.
"We need you, sir," says Lovegood to the air.
"Malfoy, don't cry, it's not your fault he's frail.
He'll be all right." "As though you really care!"
Snarls Malfoy, "Condescension is too much to bear."

19. "But friendship's not. Professor, come with us.
You did so much for us, let us repay
You. Please sir, let us now regain your trust
We'll take you back to Hogwarts. Home. Today."
You open up your mouth, but cannot say
More than, "All right." You are so very weak.
The four are like the founders of the school
You are so tired that you can barely speak
And what to say, when they are young and you are cruel?

20. Using your wand, you make your body light
You can pretend to have the strength to rise
As always you've pretended. Every fight,
The first task is to fool the others' eyes,
The operating method of skilled spies
You make it out of bed and to the Floo.
You find the powder and you are surprised
It's as though it's what you meant to do.
You stagger out and Potter's waiting there for you.

21. "Unhand me," you say weakly, but his hold
Is strong. He doesn't mean to let you go.
His hands are warm, but his green eyes are cold
"I've told you I won't let you die, you know
"So stop this nonsense. You're still ill. It shows."
"And who are you to--Potter, not so fast,"
His look is all compassion and he slows.
You never thought you'd see that look at last
In such green eyes, especially not those.
"We'll get you well," he says, and he's so very close.

22. You shut your eyes and his embrace is warm
To walk you to the bed, you know that's all,
But his strong heart is beating by your arm
You hadn't noticed that he'd got this tall.
"Lie down," he says, though you're about to fall.
"I'm sorry, Harry," says your traitor mouth,
"I'm sorry that I might die, after all,
And suddenly I want to live. The truth
to tell, I haven't felt like living since my youth."

23. "You just need food," he says, and are those tears?
He settles you in bed and pets your cheek
What does that mean from someone of his years?
It's like something a mother does. What freaks
You are, or maybe he is--you're just weak
To want someone who's young, handsome and strong
You're all but dead, or else you wouldn't speak
But he is tender, and you know it's wrong
For him to give his heart where it does not belong.


24. You hope you didn't give yourself away
When you called his first name--of course, you did.
You gave him all your memories that day
And all this loving stuff is just a bid
To get more Lily, or show he is her kid.
But Dumbledore was right, you do love him.
And it was better, keeping that well hid
From Harry and from you. The candles swim,
You're either passing out, or they are growing dim.

25.
You drink their broth, and potions, and weak tea
Another week of lying in a bed
Each day, another student quietly
Sits doing homework right beside your head
Or they play Wizard's Chess with you, instead.
It isn't always Potter who is there
But it is Potter who comes every day
While you try to pretend you do not care
And don't yearn to get up, and bathe, and wash your hair.



26. The kindness that they show you hurts your heart
And warms it, too; you've never been the one
The students liked. You've never had the art
Of showing feelings, ever, not like some--
Except for raging and the odd tantrum.
Right now you're feeling something odd inside
Something like pleasure, when you see him come
Into the room, and also perverse pride
In not admitting you are glad to have survived.

27. "You're looking well!" he says. It isn't true.
At least you're looking clean and not so ill
But you'd think, from the way he looks at you
That you were something special, like he's thrilled
His smile is just like Lily's, though he's still
James Potter's son, and that, you can't forget
He thinks you'll love him. You're damned if you will.
He extends his hand, though you are scowling yet
He'll take you for a walk. "Oh please. I'm not your pet."

28. "I thought you'd like to finally go outside,"
He tells you as he helps you down the stair
Your glaring doesn't work on him, your snide
And cutting comments fade into the air.
"The rest have all gone home, though I've stayed here,
I thought perhaps I'd help them set things right."
He's blushing, he's embarrassed, that is clear.
"It's not enough they let the children fight?"
Now that got in--a wince--smile goes a little tight.

29. "Now after all of this, you call me child?"
He looks at you. He's grown, his eyes meet yours
It's summer and the roses that grow wild
On Hogwarts' grounds are blooming, attar pours
Out on the breeze that's freshening the moors--
It's pine and heather, roses, and the lake.
Like everything that's beautiful and pure
His eyes, the scent in every breath you take
His hand on yours, his mouth--wait, this is a mistake!

30. He's kissing you! The boy's not even queer!
You're outside, by the lake, they all could see!
His tongue's on yours, his hand is in your hair
Your cock is straining, fighting to break free
Escape your trousers, rub against his knee--
"I'm sorry, you're not well--" he says. "I'm fine,"
You say, "Better than fine." He says, "Kiss me."
You find his kiss intoxicates like wine,
You kiss and kiss until you think you'll lose your mind.

31. He's reaching in your robes--he's found your penis
You gasp out loud, his thumb is on the head
He grasps you tight and holds where pleasure's keenest,
You'd like to lick him--suck his tongue instead.
He whimpers--you say "Please"--his face is red
"Please, Harry," you say, right behind his ear.
You wish that you could fuck him, in your bed
To take him, from the front or from the rear
But you are going to come--it's been too many years.

32. And then he comes; he shudders, and is still
It's all too much for you, you feel your balls
Draw up, and with a long-forgotten thrill
The little death roars through you, and you fall
Against him, for him, and in love withal.
"Thank you. I'm sorry, no, you are still sick,"
You stand and look at him and are enthralled
"I guess you'd call that thinking with my prick,"
"No, I'd say 'with your heart,'" you think, "and kiss me quick."

33. Somehow he hears your thoughts, and there's your kiss
You chase it with another, and he grins
He's kissing while he's smiling, God, what bliss
To lose your heart to one who always wins.
And this time, he's won you, and all your sins
And all your darkness, somehow washed away
By the lake water and the scented winds
By these delicious kisses, by this day.
You smile and he smiles back. What else is there to say?