Title: A History of Cufflinks
Length 4 X 100 drabbles, cause that’s how I roll
Warning: Gross, indecent and completely unrealistic misuse of cufflinks
A/N: Just trying to limber up for some fests I’m attempting this summer. Not beta’d, so please don’t blame stgulik. It’s just a bit of cuff fluff.
It flew from his cuff in a moment of furious gesturing, when he was full of rage and resentment. Berating a class of third-year students was the only thing Severus could do to vent his frustration over the fools who had the moronic temerity to allow Black to sashay out of Azkaban.
The cufflink pinged across the floor of the Potions classroom, skittering out of sight. No one moved. A quiet ”Accio” filtered through the white noise in his head.
“You dropped this, sir,” Granger said, and gently placed it on his desk. She lowered her eyes, afraid.
It slipped from his trembling, nerveless fingers and bounced down the steps, and he fell after it. The Dark Lord was especially peeved this evening, and Severus was the recipient of his wrath. He had made it back to Hogwarts on nothing more than pig-headed stubborness, refusing to die simply because it was what his detractors wanted.
A gentle hand touched his sweating face. “Go away,” he moaned feebly, and wonder of wonders, she disobeyed him. She helped him to stand, and he pushed her away, mumbling a grudging thanks. Before she left, Granger silently placed the errant cufflink in his hand.
Severus felt something strange and cold at this throat. The pain was receding. He floated in a drowsy, un-place just this side of death. A person/thing was breathing unnaturally hard in his ear, whispering, “Hang on… hang on…”
Later, when he regained consciousness, Madam Pomfrey told him of how Hermione Granger had saved his life – by joining the edges of the open wound and applying Dittany and every healing spell she knew so he wouldn’t bleed to death.
And how had she done it? By threading his cufflinks through the holes left by Nagini’s fangs and clamping the wound closed.
Hermione waited until he finished buttoning his shirt, then placed a box in his hands. It contained a pair of malachite and silver cufflinks. They perfectly matched her necklace, his wedding gift to her.
“They’re beautiful,” Severus declared. “Trust you to make the perfect choice.”
“I always make good choices. I chose you,” she agreed warmly. “And I happen to think you’re beautiful as well.”
“Hardly,” he scoffed, shooting his cuffs. “But I promise I shall take good care of them.”
“I know you will. But even if you don’t,” she laughed, “I could never resist running after your cufflinks.”