Chapter 5

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Cold, oh so cold, freezing him right to the bone...along with cursing him woth the cooling charm the idiot Weasley had managed to get the force of the spell wrong, as if things weren't already bad enough.
"Yyyyouu..id.d.d.iot W..W..Weasley" Snape was barely able to stutter as he trembled.
Minerva was the first to recover from the shock, quickly casting a petrificus totalus on the potions master, temporarily stopping his shivers.
"What on earth are we going to do with the two of them?" Professor Sprout wondered, looking at the two frozen figures in front of them.
"Well...the logical course of action is right in front of us: both have a five day condition and though Potter's rash is not contagious, it will radiate extreme heat, which incidently is just what Severus here seems to be lacking.
Therefore I would suggest relocating their tent so it is a little further away from the other students and confining them to it until their respective conditions subside"
Professor McGonigall talked smoothly, permitting herself a small smile both at the look of worry on her colleague's face and for the small kick she got out of subjecting Severus to his hated student's company for a few days, though this she would never have admitted to anyone.
"Right" Professor Sprout shook herself "I'll just go and get things sorted then, as soon as we're ready we'll just levitate them over and leave them to wear off the charm..."
She also shooed away the small croud of students, torn between wanting to help their friend from having to spend five days with Snape and not wanting to cause any more of a scene. The latter feeling eventually won and they slowly moved away, whispering amongt themselves.
The two forms remained frozen, unaware of what was about to happen to them in far too short a time.

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Cold. He was freezing, arms, legs, hands, feet, every part of him ached from the ice running through his veins.

Hot. He was boiling up, arms, legs, hands, feet, every part of him burned from the fire running through his veins.

He wanted, needed, yearned for heat, for fire.

He craved, desired, was desperate for cold, for ice.

It was only moments before they felt it, the pulsing radiation of what they most craved, that which would stop their pain. It was only second before they reached for it, grasped hold of it, desperate to hold it, touch it.
And still it wasn't enough, the contact wasn't close enough, the touch not strong enough.
Hands grasped, clothes ripped, limbs interlocked as both men tore at ech other, blissfully unaware of exactly who they were with, or for that matter that their respective fire and ice even had a face.

The trip, the spell and the enemiesNơi câu chuyện tồn tại. Hãy khám phá bây giờ