it's warmer in the dungeons
This has been in the works for ages, but I've mostly been writing a FOB storyline. And then I saw this prompt, and it was similar to a few things I had in my notes. Basically: Harry Potter AU. Gabe Saporta is a Parselmouth. Travis is a ghost. Warnings for, uh, human/ghost relationships, mild voyeurism, and drug use by both the living and the deceased?
*
It's Warmer in the Dungeons
The story gets a little more elaborate with each retelling. He's in the desert, it's night, and from out of the sand arises a huge cobra with glowing green eyes. Its sibilant voice resonates through the air, and Gabe somehow understands its words: You're a wizard, Gabriel.
The real story goes like this: at age ten, Gabe finds a tiny garter snake in his yard and moves it near the fence so no one will step on it. Thanks, man, it hisses cheerfully, and Gabe's freaked the fuck out for the next few days, until he manages to convince himself it was his imagination. A few weeks later an owl shows up with a letter saying he's a wizard and gets to go learn magic at some weird school, and the talking snake makes a little more sense.
That story doesn't impress the chicks, though, so fuck that shit.
*
He's in his sixth year when he sneaks into the girls' washroom with the 'out of order' sign on the door. He's hiding from Nate, who's a little angry about the fact that Gabe charmed the diagrams in Nate's Arithmancy homework into softcore porn. Gabe can't see what the big deal is - it was just a harmless joke and Nate noticed it before he had to pass it in, and he managed to charm it back right away. It's not like Gabe put furry porn in it or anything.
This time.
He figures he'll wait here until a few minutes after class starts, and then he should be safe - Nate's not going to hex him in the middle of class, after all, unless he wants Slytherin to lose points, and they’re already lagging behind Ravenclaw. Gabe's a little bored, though, and starts poking around. He's heard this bathroom's haunted, but he can't find anything remotely spooky about it. He notices that there's a tiny snake scratched into one of the taps, though, and that's kind of unusual.
Hey, he says in Parseltongue, just in case. It wouldn't be the first time an inanimate snake was charmed to respond to a Parselmouth's commands; he'll never forget that one time he nearly killed Ryland with that book on snake venom. Why are you here?
It doesn't reply, but its eyes shine a little. A trick of the light, maybe, but Gabe's not so sure. Show me what you're hiding, he says, and then there's a flash of light and the sink is moving, a huge pipe behind it. It's large enough for him to get inside, and he hesitates for a moment.
"What the actual fuck," Gabe says, and because it's too interesting not to, he slides down.
*
He's heard about the Chamber of Secrets before, of course; it's been the subject of many whispered rumors in the Slytherin common room. And there was speculation that Gabe himself was the heir of Slytherin, which is pretty much impossible, considering that Gabe's family are all Muggles. Not that he's ever actually told anyone that - he's in Slytherin, after all, he's got a reputation to keep up - so it's probably not a bad guess, given that Gabe's the only Parselmouth around.
Gabe figures out that's where he is around the same time a voice whispers in his ear, Watch out for the giant snake, dude. Gabe blinks. It doesn't sound like a snake speaking, but there's no one in sight.
"Oh, hey," he says out loud. "Are you that ghost who haunts the bathroom?"
"Guilty as charged," the ghost says, materializing. "I'm Travis. What are you doing down here?"
"Found it," Gabe says, shrugging. "Thought I'd explore. So, uh, giant snake?"
"It's what killed me," Travis says, sounding rather nonchalant about his death. "Huge thing with fangs, and when it looked at me, I died."
"Fuck," Gabe says. "There's a basilisk down here?"
"I guess that's what it is."
Hey, basilisk? Gabe hisses, and there's a response right away.
I have been waiting, son of Slytherin. What are your commands?
Uh, yeah, that's totally me, he replies. So could you do me a favor? Don't, like, kill me when I'm down here.
I would not harm one who spoke my language, it replies, sounding offended.
Awesome, that's really cool. Would you mind, uh, not killing anyone else down here either? Keep your eyes shut if anyone comes down?
That is not in keeping with my instructions, it says.
Come on, just for me?
Will you come visit me? it asks. It does get rather lonely down here. No one comes to visit you when you can kill them by looking at them.
Totally, Gabe says. I'll bring some friends. Friends you can't kill, though, because that's not very friendly. We can hang.
There's silence, and then - I suppose I would not kill friends, it says, still sounding a little doubtful.
"Awesome," Gabe says, turning to Travis, who's hovering in the air beside him, looking bemused. "It's not gonna hurt anyone from now on."
"That doesn't do me much good," Travis says. "I'm already dead."
"Travis, Travis," Gabe says, shaking his head and lifting his arm to wrap around his shoulders. Of course, his arm goes right through Travis's shoulders; nonplussed, Gabe folds his arms and leans against the wall. "Now I can bring other people down here, and we can have a fuckin' party. You can't tell me you're not bored hanging out in a toilet, bro."
"Sometimes chicks get changed in there," Travis points out.
"Travie, my man, you ever been to a Slytherin party?" Travis shakes his head. "Then you were never alive in the first place. And I can guarantee you'll see a lot more half-naked chicks than you see in a year in that bathroom."
"You talk big," Travis says, grinning. "I'll believe it when I see it."
*
"I will never doubt you again," Travis says, staring across the room, where Victoria's just lost another hand of strip poker.
Gabe takes a hit of the blunt he stole from some Hufflepuff's stash and then gives it a considering look. "You want to smoke?" he asks, and Travis rolls his eyes.
"This may have escaped your notice, but I'm kind of dead."
"Just let me try something," Gabe says. He takes another hit and blows the smoke in Travis's direction. It starts to pass through him, but doesn't quite get all the way, collecting in his chest.
Travis laughs disbelievingly, looking down. "I haven't shotgunned since the sixties," he says.
"Did it work?"
"I think so," he says. "Man, I could kiss you right now. I mean, if I could kiss you right now I could kiss you right now."
"Dude, save the homo action for the afterparty," Gabe says, breathing in more smoke and trying to ignore the way a little thrill goes through him at the words. Travis is kind of hot for a dead guy, whatever, Gabe's not about to feel guilty. It's just that there's no way to act on it, not when they can't touch. It sucks, but that's life. Or death. Whichever.
*
Gabe always forgets that the staircase near the statue of the three-armed cyclops isn't really a shortcut between the dungeons and the Great Hall - it gets him there faster, in theory, but in actuality, he always ends up getting tripped up by this one motherfucking poltergeist.
"You fall for it every time," Greta says, laughing and sitting down cross-legged on the floor next to him.
He sits up and rubs at his arm. "I think you made me sprain my wrist, bitch," he says, and she laughs even louder.
"What are you going to do about it?" she asks, and he swats at her, but his hand passes through her face. She swats back at him hard enough to make his arm hurt even more.
He's about to curse her out when something occurs to him. "Greta," he says. "You're a ghost."
"Oh, you noticed?"
He ignores her and continues. "How can you touch things? And people?"
She shrugs. "You have to want it enough."
"So, like, could a ghost and a person theoretically hook up?"
"I'm flattered," she says. "I didn't even think you liked me."
"Not you," Gabe snaps, and then reconsiders. "Okay, maybe you."
"Who've you got your eye on?" Greta asks. "I hear you've been spending a lot of time underground these days. I don't suppose you've met everyone's favorite basilisk victim?"
"Fuck off," Gabe says.
"Aw, you guys would be so cute," she says, almost managing to sound sincere. "I'll have to keep my eyes on the two of you."
Gabe stalks off, leaving Greta giggling in his wake.
*
He's down in the chamber again, which is hardly surprising; he's always down there these days. It's not like he's pining, or any gay shit like that. It's just that Travis always has awesome stories to tell, and he's got a wicked sense of humor, and sometimes when they get high, his eyes get kind of shiny and glazed and he looks at Gabe all fondly, like there's no one better in the whole fucking world.
"C'mon, share," Travis is saying, and Gabe smirks, shaking his head.
"If you're good," he says, and Travis huffs out a sigh.
"Jackass," he says, and Gabe relents, taking in as much smoke from his pipe as he can and holding it in. He beckons Travis closer, and their faces are close. Gabe can feel a chill from where Travis's skin isn't touching his. He exhales.
"Good?" he asks. Travis nods, but doesn't back away. In fact, he does the opposite, leaning in and brushing their lips together. It feels weird when they connect, cold and electric and kind of awesome. "Dude," Gabe says.
Travis smiles. "Greta said it would work."
"She's a fuckin' fag hag," Gabe mutters, but there's not much venom to his voice - if she's going to help him get laid, well, more power to her. "Can I -" He reaches out cautiously, wrapping his fingers around Travis's school tie. He tugs on it, pulling Travis back in.
"Needs less clothing," Greta's voice helpfully suggests from somewhere behind them.
"Get the fuck out," Gabe says, and Travis shakes his head.
"Let her watch," he says.
"That's kind of kinky," Gabe says. He's not going to argue, not when Travis's hands are skimming down his sides before he's fumbling with Gabe's belt.
"I haven't had sex in fifty fuckin' years," Travis says. "You think I'm gonna stop because dead girl's watching?"
"Good point," he replies. "We should make up for lost time."
"That's the plan, Saporta, if you ever stop talking."
Gabe stops talking.
*
It's Warmer in the Dungeons
The story gets a little more elaborate with each retelling. He's in the desert, it's night, and from out of the sand arises a huge cobra with glowing green eyes. Its sibilant voice resonates through the air, and Gabe somehow understands its words: You're a wizard, Gabriel.
The real story goes like this: at age ten, Gabe finds a tiny garter snake in his yard and moves it near the fence so no one will step on it. Thanks, man, it hisses cheerfully, and Gabe's freaked the fuck out for the next few days, until he manages to convince himself it was his imagination. A few weeks later an owl shows up with a letter saying he's a wizard and gets to go learn magic at some weird school, and the talking snake makes a little more sense.
That story doesn't impress the chicks, though, so fuck that shit.
*
He's in his sixth year when he sneaks into the girls' washroom with the 'out of order' sign on the door. He's hiding from Nate, who's a little angry about the fact that Gabe charmed the diagrams in Nate's Arithmancy homework into softcore porn. Gabe can't see what the big deal is - it was just a harmless joke and Nate noticed it before he had to pass it in, and he managed to charm it back right away. It's not like Gabe put furry porn in it or anything.
This time.
He figures he'll wait here until a few minutes after class starts, and then he should be safe - Nate's not going to hex him in the middle of class, after all, unless he wants Slytherin to lose points, and they’re already lagging behind Ravenclaw. Gabe's a little bored, though, and starts poking around. He's heard this bathroom's haunted, but he can't find anything remotely spooky about it. He notices that there's a tiny snake scratched into one of the taps, though, and that's kind of unusual.
Hey, he says in Parseltongue, just in case. It wouldn't be the first time an inanimate snake was charmed to respond to a Parselmouth's commands; he'll never forget that one time he nearly killed Ryland with that book on snake venom. Why are you here?
It doesn't reply, but its eyes shine a little. A trick of the light, maybe, but Gabe's not so sure. Show me what you're hiding, he says, and then there's a flash of light and the sink is moving, a huge pipe behind it. It's large enough for him to get inside, and he hesitates for a moment.
"What the actual fuck," Gabe says, and because it's too interesting not to, he slides down.
*
He's heard about the Chamber of Secrets before, of course; it's been the subject of many whispered rumors in the Slytherin common room. And there was speculation that Gabe himself was the heir of Slytherin, which is pretty much impossible, considering that Gabe's family are all Muggles. Not that he's ever actually told anyone that - he's in Slytherin, after all, he's got a reputation to keep up - so it's probably not a bad guess, given that Gabe's the only Parselmouth around.
Gabe figures out that's where he is around the same time a voice whispers in his ear, Watch out for the giant snake, dude. Gabe blinks. It doesn't sound like a snake speaking, but there's no one in sight.
"Oh, hey," he says out loud. "Are you that ghost who haunts the bathroom?"
"Guilty as charged," the ghost says, materializing. "I'm Travis. What are you doing down here?"
"Found it," Gabe says, shrugging. "Thought I'd explore. So, uh, giant snake?"
"It's what killed me," Travis says, sounding rather nonchalant about his death. "Huge thing with fangs, and when it looked at me, I died."
"Fuck," Gabe says. "There's a basilisk down here?"
"I guess that's what it is."
Hey, basilisk? Gabe hisses, and there's a response right away.
I have been waiting, son of Slytherin. What are your commands?
Uh, yeah, that's totally me, he replies. So could you do me a favor? Don't, like, kill me when I'm down here.
I would not harm one who spoke my language, it replies, sounding offended.
Awesome, that's really cool. Would you mind, uh, not killing anyone else down here either? Keep your eyes shut if anyone comes down?
That is not in keeping with my instructions, it says.
Come on, just for me?
Will you come visit me? it asks. It does get rather lonely down here. No one comes to visit you when you can kill them by looking at them.
Totally, Gabe says. I'll bring some friends. Friends you can't kill, though, because that's not very friendly. We can hang.
There's silence, and then - I suppose I would not kill friends, it says, still sounding a little doubtful.
"Awesome," Gabe says, turning to Travis, who's hovering in the air beside him, looking bemused. "It's not gonna hurt anyone from now on."
"That doesn't do me much good," Travis says. "I'm already dead."
"Travis, Travis," Gabe says, shaking his head and lifting his arm to wrap around his shoulders. Of course, his arm goes right through Travis's shoulders; nonplussed, Gabe folds his arms and leans against the wall. "Now I can bring other people down here, and we can have a fuckin' party. You can't tell me you're not bored hanging out in a toilet, bro."
"Sometimes chicks get changed in there," Travis points out.
"Travie, my man, you ever been to a Slytherin party?" Travis shakes his head. "Then you were never alive in the first place. And I can guarantee you'll see a lot more half-naked chicks than you see in a year in that bathroom."
"You talk big," Travis says, grinning. "I'll believe it when I see it."
*
"I will never doubt you again," Travis says, staring across the room, where Victoria's just lost another hand of strip poker.
Gabe takes a hit of the blunt he stole from some Hufflepuff's stash and then gives it a considering look. "You want to smoke?" he asks, and Travis rolls his eyes.
"This may have escaped your notice, but I'm kind of dead."
"Just let me try something," Gabe says. He takes another hit and blows the smoke in Travis's direction. It starts to pass through him, but doesn't quite get all the way, collecting in his chest.
Travis laughs disbelievingly, looking down. "I haven't shotgunned since the sixties," he says.
"Did it work?"
"I think so," he says. "Man, I could kiss you right now. I mean, if I could kiss you right now I could kiss you right now."
"Dude, save the homo action for the afterparty," Gabe says, breathing in more smoke and trying to ignore the way a little thrill goes through him at the words. Travis is kind of hot for a dead guy, whatever, Gabe's not about to feel guilty. It's just that there's no way to act on it, not when they can't touch. It sucks, but that's life. Or death. Whichever.
*
Gabe always forgets that the staircase near the statue of the three-armed cyclops isn't really a shortcut between the dungeons and the Great Hall - it gets him there faster, in theory, but in actuality, he always ends up getting tripped up by this one motherfucking poltergeist.
"You fall for it every time," Greta says, laughing and sitting down cross-legged on the floor next to him.
He sits up and rubs at his arm. "I think you made me sprain my wrist, bitch," he says, and she laughs even louder.
"What are you going to do about it?" she asks, and he swats at her, but his hand passes through her face. She swats back at him hard enough to make his arm hurt even more.
He's about to curse her out when something occurs to him. "Greta," he says. "You're a ghost."
"Oh, you noticed?"
He ignores her and continues. "How can you touch things? And people?"
She shrugs. "You have to want it enough."
"So, like, could a ghost and a person theoretically hook up?"
"I'm flattered," she says. "I didn't even think you liked me."
"Not you," Gabe snaps, and then reconsiders. "Okay, maybe you."
"Who've you got your eye on?" Greta asks. "I hear you've been spending a lot of time underground these days. I don't suppose you've met everyone's favorite basilisk victim?"
"Fuck off," Gabe says.
"Aw, you guys would be so cute," she says, almost managing to sound sincere. "I'll have to keep my eyes on the two of you."
Gabe stalks off, leaving Greta giggling in his wake.
*
He's down in the chamber again, which is hardly surprising; he's always down there these days. It's not like he's pining, or any gay shit like that. It's just that Travis always has awesome stories to tell, and he's got a wicked sense of humor, and sometimes when they get high, his eyes get kind of shiny and glazed and he looks at Gabe all fondly, like there's no one better in the whole fucking world.
"C'mon, share," Travis is saying, and Gabe smirks, shaking his head.
"If you're good," he says, and Travis huffs out a sigh.
"Jackass," he says, and Gabe relents, taking in as much smoke from his pipe as he can and holding it in. He beckons Travis closer, and their faces are close. Gabe can feel a chill from where Travis's skin isn't touching his. He exhales.
"Good?" he asks. Travis nods, but doesn't back away. In fact, he does the opposite, leaning in and brushing their lips together. It feels weird when they connect, cold and electric and kind of awesome. "Dude," Gabe says.
Travis smiles. "Greta said it would work."
"She's a fuckin' fag hag," Gabe mutters, but there's not much venom to his voice - if she's going to help him get laid, well, more power to her. "Can I -" He reaches out cautiously, wrapping his fingers around Travis's school tie. He tugs on it, pulling Travis back in.
"Needs less clothing," Greta's voice helpfully suggests from somewhere behind them.
"Get the fuck out," Gabe says, and Travis shakes his head.
"Let her watch," he says.
"That's kind of kinky," Gabe says. He's not going to argue, not when Travis's hands are skimming down his sides before he's fumbling with Gabe's belt.
"I haven't had sex in fifty fuckin' years," Travis says. "You think I'm gonna stop because dead girl's watching?"
"Good point," he replies. "We should make up for lost time."
"That's the plan, Saporta, if you ever stop talking."
Gabe stops talking.