Work Text:
On the morning of Saturday November 21st, the sun rose as it did most mornings in the town of Ottery-St-Catchpole. The first hint of pale sunlight crept slowly over the easterly knoll of a modest, yet ancient estate. Whichever birds left singing before their great migration sat smartly upon their perches, as though this day were like any other, and even the fish within their small ponds scattered amongst the sprawling lawns felt no disturbance in the forces of their small and simple worlds. The inhabitants of this well maintained estate slept soundly, unawares of the events that would soon unfold.
The master suite of this estate was large, but not ostentatious. Sparsely decorated with furniture clearly found on travels across the continents, it reflected the tastes of the two men resting comfortably within the confines of an antique and striking four-poster. The first man was none other than Severus Snape; retired potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, recipient of the Order of Merlin (First Class), author of an extensive (and globally well-received) encyclopedia of the rarest potions ingredients found across the world, and the current proprietor of several apothecary shops in both England and France. The second man, Harry Potter, was currently second in command at the Office of Magical Law Enforcement, becoming the youngest auror to do so at the age of only 25. Potters history is well documented in several brash (and often inaccurate) biographical novels sold across Wizarding England. Plainly stated, the events that unfold only a few hours from now are entirely unexpected from such wealthy and efficacious men who, from the perspective of anyone who knows them, would not find themselves in such an obscene or ridiculous situation.
It is only now, at 6:45am, that the first sign of disturbance comes from Potter. First, just the barest whisper of pain- a scrunched brow and a readjustment in bed. Settling quickly again and relaxing, it passes without notice. The second, (and you would only hear it if you were very close) a low, ominous groan of the ileum in an attempt to manage the pressure of a gathering storm. The moment passes quickly, and the men sleep on. Soon they will rise to begin the day that will change their lives forever.
18 Hours Earlier
Harry was attempting to reason with his partner, a move not often undertaken by the former boy hero. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t trust Severus, he was in fact the foremost Potions Master in Northern Europe with an incomparable record of achievement in the art of potion making. Harry was simply attempting to placate the man in his insecurity of his newest concoction.
The Everlasting Allergy Cure was the first of its kind. A single dose potion which would alleviate each and every symptom of allergen based reaction in the gut, while retaining its effectiveness for a period of ten years. Severus had thought of the idea while on holiday in the South of France. He and Harry had spent part of the summer two years ago visiting Bill, Fluer, and their hoard of red-haired goblins. Their oldest child, Vivienne, had been unable to consume the vast majority of the fare brought by the visitors who had stopped by to wish them and the Weasleys well. Severus learned then that although it was rare, food allergies did in fact affect those with magical blood, as proven by Vivienne’s severe and violent reaction to consuming what were thought to be dairy-free biscuits.
Two years and a peer review of the results later, the potion was nearly complete. After several test subjects had reacted positively and without major side effects to the new treatment, Severus was ready to publish and market the Everlasting Allergy Cure. The only hiccup in the road to its release was not that the potion tasted unpleasant. It was positively horrific.
While many in the Wizarding world had been subjected to the objectionable flavors of various treatments at one time or another, the Everlasting Allergy Cure held a spot above the rest. Of the fifty participants who had volunteered to take part in the testing of the new product, almost a third were simply unable to consume the potion in its entirety before their reflexes kicked in and they violently purged the potion from their stomachs. While Snape was initially baffled at the participants’ response to what he believed to be just another “scarcely tolerable” concoction, he soon realized that the problem was far more severe than he first understood.
If the volunteers were unable to consume the treatment, the Allergy Cure would be a complete failure, and no amount of expressing to the testers that they had a “disgusting flair for melodrama” would change that.
After several strongly worded letters to Snape persuading the Potions Master to revise the recipe for the sake of anyone who ever wanted to eat nuts again (and several failed revision attempts), The Everlasting Allergy Cure was ready. Severus only needed Harry to take a small taste to prove that the potion was comestible. And now, as Severus attempts to decant the final product, Harry can only try to talk him out of using his partner as a guanine pig.
“Severus, we both know the revisions went well in the final trial. I don’t see why I should test this when the volunteers managed to drink it down after the final modification!”
“Quiet, Potter. I’m sure you’re well aware of the fact the participants in the final trial were those who were unable to consume the potion in its entirety during the first assessment. Their ability to ingest the modified potion is no surprise considering the velocity at which the first treatment departed their stomachs. I have also made one addition to this final product. Now sit.”
Harry sat. A sample of the decanted potion was pushed into his hands. A cursory sniff of the bottle gave him only the tiniest indication that what he was about to drink would be absolutely revolting. Gryffindor pride aside, Harry felt his stomach lurch in anticipation. He drank it down.
“Well?” Severus inquired.
“It tastes like fucking garbage” Harry gagged.
“Quite. Nonetheless, it appears now to be edible enough for the required dose of three ounces.”
Harry rushed to the sink for the relief of several cups of cool water. After rinsing the taste of putrid ass from his mouth, he turned back to Severus.
“You know you owe me for that, right?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean, Potter”
“You know exactly what I mean, Severus”, Harry uttered, walking slowly to the glowering man attempting to decant the remaining potion. “You can’t just use me as some kind of genuine pig for your foul tasting potions, and then expect me to toddle off without so much as having my cock sucked, do you?”
“You are profoundly obscene”.
Harry slipped his arms around the taller man’s shoulders. “Only for you. Come on, you can let those cool a bit. I want you to take me upstairs.”
“Fine, you insatiable brat. We are, however departing for Gimleys Trattoria at seven sharp this evening. Mr. Meeks and his great cow of a wife will be joining us to discuss the opening of the apothecary in Nice. Please make it a point to present yourself with class, I do not want a repeat of your drunken idiocy that was our last meeting with them”.
“Oh come off it Sev. Meeks *loved* my jokes about Bavarian Troll “relations”.
The next day, 7:00am
The following morning arrived as expected. Severus and Harry had dined with the Meeks the night before, and retired to bed after their typical session of rousing sex.
Severus woke first and completed his morning ablutions before departing to his home office to finish the necessary paperwork required to open the shop in Nice. He spared Harry a momentary glance before proceeding to his task, and noted the sleeping man looked clammy and uncomfortable. Quickly placing a hangover cure on his bedside table and brushing the man’s damp fringe from his forehead, he made a mental note to check on him later that morning.
Harry woke soon after. Immediately he knew something was wrong.
Sitting up slowly in bed, he grasped his lower abdomen in pain. To his horror he looked down to find his stomach comically distended, so much so that he looked to be in the early stages of pregnancy.
He had to find Severus. He was sick, there was something wrong with him. Maybe the fish from last night’s dinner was off. He tried not to panic as the feeling of pain and pressure began to overwhelm him.
Placing two feet on the carpeted floor below him, Harry stood. The moment he moved into a standing position several things happened at once. First, the pain in his belly swelled to an almost unbearable degree. As he leaned forward to brace himself on his knees to manage the pain, he knew exactly in that instant the source of his misery.
The pressure in his rectum suddenly amplified to an almost intolerable scale. Harry felt his vision blur. His ears began to ring as the all-consuming urge to release the burden in his large intestine became too much to endure. Harry made a feeble effort to hold the dam closed, but the source of this chaos would not be obstructed. Finally letting go, Harry released the pressure that was eating away at his soul.
The fart escaped his anus with such force that Harry was propelled forward onto the floor.
He laid there for a moment, dazed and without thought, only reveling in the euphoric sensation of release and lack of pain. When he could stand, Harry lifted himself to his feet, praying that whatever bizarre occurrence which has just overtaken him was over. He took stock then of his body. Looking down, he was shocked to find his distended stomach still frighteningly large. He managed to take several steps to the bathroom before discovering the next ordeal which would plague him.
For every step Harry took, a small, tight squeak would escape his ass, much like he were being played off a stage by an upbeat trumpet player. Harry tooted himself to the bathroom and used the facilities and thought of what to do about his most embarrassing and disturbing condition.
Severus would of course help him with his flatulence problem. He worried too that perhaps he had been poisoned. The only trouble was that Harry was rather disinclined to have his partner see him in such a humiliating state. As evidence by the passing of several loud thunderclaps while using the toilet, Harry soon realized he would have to employ the use of a Healer in order to avoid his own embarrassment. The nearest Healer was only several miles away, he could potentially have this illness sorted out by dinner time.
Harry decide then to make his way downstairs to write a note explaining to Severus that he had “popped off to the shops for the morning” and would return later that day.
Harry dressed (to the beat of his own clapping ass), and made his way downstairs. He didn’t want to chance being caught in this state, so he quickly had a seat at the kitchen table and began to scribble his note. He was almost finished with his little white lie when he heard footsteps in the corridor.
Harry tried to think fast, but came to the conclusion that moving in any direction would set off another wave of vicious farting. He sat then, stalk still and cheeks clenched as Severus rounded the corner and entered the kitchen.
“There you are”, Severus stated. “Did you take the hangover potion I left you? How many times must I request you imbibe less than the amount of alcohol which converts you into an absolute moron?”
Harry didn’t speak. He didn’t even turn in Severus’ direction. The level of concentration he was invoking in order to hold in what would certainly be the loudest fart ever recorded on earth was all consuming.
“Harry?”
Severus pivoted around to look at Harrys face. He was instantly alarmed at the sight of Harrys palled complexion and pinched face. He knelt down in front of his partner and took his face in his hands.
“Are you ill? Harry? What on earth is the matter?”
Harry slowly looked Severus in the eye, and attempted to suck in a breath in order to speak. He had been holding on to this one for too long, and the ramifications would be devastating. The expansion of his lungs was his undoing.
The fart left Harrys ass with the power of a fueled rocket. He was physically lifted up off the chair and slammed down again.
Severus stared, agape. Unable to speak after witnessing a physics-defying display of flatulence.
A moment passed in silence, and then another. The quiet was only broken by a string of wet and slappy farts leaving Harrys anus.
Finally he stood.
“This would be a direct consequence of adding the distilled wormwood. I had hoped that leaving it in a less volatile state would curb some of the more, gaseous, side effects. It appears I was incorrect.”
Harrys face was bright red. Fighting through the embarrassment he asked, “Are you certain this is from the potion? I feel like I’ve been poisoned.”
“I am positive. The wormwood was added in order to offset the bitterness of the bee venom while maintaining the efficacy of the final product. It can however, cause severe side effects when added with other ingredients during the initial boil.”
Harry took his turn to stand, releasing several deafening toots before straightening.
“I think I need a healer Severus. This is absurdly humiliating. I going to apperate to Madam Maria to get myself sorted”.
“There’s no need, Harry. I have the antidote downstairs but you must rest for the remainder of the day after taking it. Are you in any pain?”
“I was earlier but…letting them out helps.”
“Go upstairs and get in bed. I will be up shortly with the potion. Do not make any diversions; I want you resting for the entirety of the day.”
Severus wrapped his arms around Harry but quickly stepped away when the simple gesture triggered an entire chorus of wind instrumentation from Harry's anus.
Fleeing the kitchen, Harry made his way upstairs. Entering the bedroom he stripped off his clothes and settled in under the blankets. Thinking positively now, he was suddenly overcome with gratitude that his partner did not even smirk when confronted with such a ludicrous situation. He hadn’t even poked fun at Harry's misfortune or made a single quip on the volume of the ass music.
Severus entered the bedroom with Harry's antidote. Stepping up to the bed he offered Harry the remedy, and didn’t so much as blink when the duvet was lifted from the bed as though caught in a gripping wind. The blankets fluttered down as Harry drank the end of his suffering.
24 Hours Later
“I am eternally relieved that you have recovered.”
“If you mention this to anyone ever, I swear to Merlin I will divorce you.”
“What’s the matter Potter? I’m confident in the Wizarding Worlds ability to continue to fawn over their hero. Even if he has the unfortunate ability to conduct a one-man band with his arsehole.”
Severus dodged the pillow that came hurtling toward his head.
“Come lay down with me, I missed you last night.”
“I would say the same, but I left that atrocious windbreaker you purchased me at the cottage.”
Another pillow narrowly missed his head.
Severus lay down next to Harry and gathered him in his arms.
The two men took a moment to appreciate the silence. “I think we’ve earned a rest”, Harry yawned.
FIN