![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wickedwordsThis one was originally written for X's bystander zine, where stories were to be told from the POV of someone outside of the relationship characters. I did one for HP, with the POV as Neville, and one for HL, where the POV character was original. Both stories were inspired by X's wonderful art.
Letter Home
By Rachael Sabotini
Thanks to elynross and Lexin for doing the beta.
Hello, mum.
I know it's been a while since I wrote -- years, really. Not since I started Hogwarts. When I was little, I wrote you about everything that happened, certain that you would wake up one day and want to know. As the years passed, I got out of the habit. There wasn't any reason to tell you anything because you weren't listening.
I'm glad you aren't listening right now, because after what I did, you probably wouldn't be talking to me. Before, I was just a disappointment, but this time...This time, I really made a mess of things.
Snape was a spy for Dumbledore, working with the Death Eaters, did you know that? I thought he was just being nasty. I really thought he was going to kill Harry, so, I, uh, cursed him. And not with one of those little tiny curses that you pick up in the dormitories, either. One of the big ones, the unforgivable ones.
The one that they used on you.
I don't know how I found the courage.
I saw them at breakfast this morning. Harry kept trying to get Snape to talk to him, but Snape wouldn't say a thing. It's been that way since I used the curse on him. Snape won't say anything to anyone, not even Harry. It's as if...as if because I was the one that did it, it made it the curse worse. More humiliating.
I would have killed him, mum, to save Harry. See, Harry had been grabbed from the dormitory at Hogwarts, or so we -- that's Ron, Seamus, Ginny, Hermione, and I -- thought. We tried to figure out what happened on our own and worked it out that it was actually Malfoy who did the grabbing at a Quidditch match. The real Harry had been replaced with a doppelganger who pretended to be Harry right up until the night Hermione helped us with our potions lesson. If my cauldron hadn't exploded and the potion dripped all over the creature, I don't think we would ever have found out.
Anyway, it jumped out of the window to get away from us, and Hermione was able to follow it back to Malfoy manor.
All of us went storming into a secret passage we found into the place, but then we split up to cover more space. Ginny and Seamus headed for the attic, while Ron and Hermione searched the house.
I took care of the dungeons myself. Well, not 'took care', exactly. I got lost and wound up there. Typical, really, that that was where they put him. When I unchained Harry, he was all tattered and torn from what they had done to him. He was pale and bleeding, and then Snape... I didn't even know he was at there. I had just got Harry to stand when he came rushing into the room, wearing one of their masks, but it didn't matter. I knew who it was the moment he came through the door, his wand out, ready to attack.
The curse was the first thing I thought of, and I would have let it kill him - I wouldn't have left him alive afterward, the way they did you. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even Snape. But I was so angry over what had happened to Harry, I couldn’t even see straight. I just pointed my wand, focused and spoke clearly, as if I'd been doing it for years.
"Crucio!"
He fell to the ground instantly, writhing and screaming. That made me want to hurt him all the more.
Harry's the one who made me stop. "Neville, you'd be just as bad as the Death Eaters," he yelled, trying to be heard above the sound of Snape's screams. "You have to stop. You're killing him!"
His hand on my arm trembled, and I knew he was worried about me, but by that point, I didn't care. "So? At least he'd be dead and couldn't hurt anyone else."
That's when Harry hit me, but it didn't make me stop; he was too weak to put up much of a fight. I can be just as stubborn and determined as any of the Longbottoms, mum, but I have to have a good reason. Killing Snape seemed like a brilliant reason.
Also, I could tell that Harry's heart wasn't in it. He didn't want to hurt me. But oh, how I wanted to kill Snape. Not just for what he'd done to Harry, but for what he had done to me. For every class I had ever had from him, for every unkind remark he had said, for the way he delighted in humiliating me.
Harry must have seen something in my eyes or maybe heard something in my voice, because all of a sudden, his attitude changed. "Neville," he'd said, slowly, calmly, with clarity of purpose. "Please don't kill him. He saved my life." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He's a friend."
I was his friend, not Snape. Snape was my personal demon, my tormentor. He couldn't be Harry's friend. "He's done something to your mind." I snapped back. "No one is friends with that greasy bastard."
"I am."
"Impossible." I didn't care what he said. I wanted Snape dead.
"Neville, some people would say the same about you." He took a deep breath and lifted his chin. "Some days, I think I'd like to be more than friends."
That's what did it. I focused all of my attention to him, see if he was saying what I thought he was saying, and that's all it took to break the spell. I remember how horrified I was, and I don't know which was worse: that he could find anything in common between Snape and me, or that he'd implied.... I stared at Harry, slumped against the wall, tattered Quidditch robes hanging from him like party streamers.
He nodded, meeting my gaze. "I like him, Neville, even though he's arrogant, bad tempered, and cruel. Don't kill him because of me."
I don't know how long we stared at each other before Snape's voice broke the moment between us. "Thank you for those...lovely...words of encouragement."
I jerked around to look at him. He stood slowly, and I could see he was trembling, but he said very little after that. Just folded his arms across his chest, his wand in his hand, glaring indiscriminately at the two of us. "Shall we go?"
Harry smiled. "Yeah, I think we should."
While Harry leaned on me, Snape led the way out of the Manor. His Death Eater mask had fallen off when he was under the curse, and he didn't bother to pick it up; I stomped on it as I walked past and enjoyed how it shattered.
Snape never looked back.
I'm not really certain what happened after that, but the Aurors didn't take my wand away. Harry and Snape know what I did, but I don't think anyone else heard about it. If they did, I'd probably be in Azkaban, or wherever it is that they put people who use unforgivable curses. And I see the way the other teachers look at Harry and Snape when they fight, as if there were a puzzle going on that they just can't fathom. Everyone knows something happened between them there, but no one knows exactly what.
Meanwhile, I'm not sleeping well, and I had to put a silence spell around my bed, since I wake up screaming. I keep dreaming that it wasn't Snape I used the Cruciatus on -- it was you. And some nights, I dream that you are using it on me.
Mum, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to use the curse. I really thought I was doing the right thing. I hope that sometime you can forgive me. I know I have no hope of forgiveness from Snape.
And I wonder if I'm ever going to be able to forgive myself.
Letter Home
By Rachael Sabotini
Thanks to elynross and Lexin for doing the beta.
Hello, mum.
I know it's been a while since I wrote -- years, really. Not since I started Hogwarts. When I was little, I wrote you about everything that happened, certain that you would wake up one day and want to know. As the years passed, I got out of the habit. There wasn't any reason to tell you anything because you weren't listening.
I'm glad you aren't listening right now, because after what I did, you probably wouldn't be talking to me. Before, I was just a disappointment, but this time...This time, I really made a mess of things.
Snape was a spy for Dumbledore, working with the Death Eaters, did you know that? I thought he was just being nasty. I really thought he was going to kill Harry, so, I, uh, cursed him. And not with one of those little tiny curses that you pick up in the dormitories, either. One of the big ones, the unforgivable ones.
The one that they used on you.
I don't know how I found the courage.
I saw them at breakfast this morning. Harry kept trying to get Snape to talk to him, but Snape wouldn't say a thing. It's been that way since I used the curse on him. Snape won't say anything to anyone, not even Harry. It's as if...as if because I was the one that did it, it made it the curse worse. More humiliating.
I would have killed him, mum, to save Harry. See, Harry had been grabbed from the dormitory at Hogwarts, or so we -- that's Ron, Seamus, Ginny, Hermione, and I -- thought. We tried to figure out what happened on our own and worked it out that it was actually Malfoy who did the grabbing at a Quidditch match. The real Harry had been replaced with a doppelganger who pretended to be Harry right up until the night Hermione helped us with our potions lesson. If my cauldron hadn't exploded and the potion dripped all over the creature, I don't think we would ever have found out.
Anyway, it jumped out of the window to get away from us, and Hermione was able to follow it back to Malfoy manor.
All of us went storming into a secret passage we found into the place, but then we split up to cover more space. Ginny and Seamus headed for the attic, while Ron and Hermione searched the house.
I took care of the dungeons myself. Well, not 'took care', exactly. I got lost and wound up there. Typical, really, that that was where they put him. When I unchained Harry, he was all tattered and torn from what they had done to him. He was pale and bleeding, and then Snape... I didn't even know he was at there. I had just got Harry to stand when he came rushing into the room, wearing one of their masks, but it didn't matter. I knew who it was the moment he came through the door, his wand out, ready to attack.
The curse was the first thing I thought of, and I would have let it kill him - I wouldn't have left him alive afterward, the way they did you. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even Snape. But I was so angry over what had happened to Harry, I couldn’t even see straight. I just pointed my wand, focused and spoke clearly, as if I'd been doing it for years.
"Crucio!"
He fell to the ground instantly, writhing and screaming. That made me want to hurt him all the more.
Harry's the one who made me stop. "Neville, you'd be just as bad as the Death Eaters," he yelled, trying to be heard above the sound of Snape's screams. "You have to stop. You're killing him!"
His hand on my arm trembled, and I knew he was worried about me, but by that point, I didn't care. "So? At least he'd be dead and couldn't hurt anyone else."
That's when Harry hit me, but it didn't make me stop; he was too weak to put up much of a fight. I can be just as stubborn and determined as any of the Longbottoms, mum, but I have to have a good reason. Killing Snape seemed like a brilliant reason.
Also, I could tell that Harry's heart wasn't in it. He didn't want to hurt me. But oh, how I wanted to kill Snape. Not just for what he'd done to Harry, but for what he had done to me. For every class I had ever had from him, for every unkind remark he had said, for the way he delighted in humiliating me.
Harry must have seen something in my eyes or maybe heard something in my voice, because all of a sudden, his attitude changed. "Neville," he'd said, slowly, calmly, with clarity of purpose. "Please don't kill him. He saved my life." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He's a friend."
I was his friend, not Snape. Snape was my personal demon, my tormentor. He couldn't be Harry's friend. "He's done something to your mind." I snapped back. "No one is friends with that greasy bastard."
"I am."
"Impossible." I didn't care what he said. I wanted Snape dead.
"Neville, some people would say the same about you." He took a deep breath and lifted his chin. "Some days, I think I'd like to be more than friends."
That's what did it. I focused all of my attention to him, see if he was saying what I thought he was saying, and that's all it took to break the spell. I remember how horrified I was, and I don't know which was worse: that he could find anything in common between Snape and me, or that he'd implied.... I stared at Harry, slumped against the wall, tattered Quidditch robes hanging from him like party streamers.
He nodded, meeting my gaze. "I like him, Neville, even though he's arrogant, bad tempered, and cruel. Don't kill him because of me."
I don't know how long we stared at each other before Snape's voice broke the moment between us. "Thank you for those...lovely...words of encouragement."
I jerked around to look at him. He stood slowly, and I could see he was trembling, but he said very little after that. Just folded his arms across his chest, his wand in his hand, glaring indiscriminately at the two of us. "Shall we go?"
Harry smiled. "Yeah, I think we should."
While Harry leaned on me, Snape led the way out of the Manor. His Death Eater mask had fallen off when he was under the curse, and he didn't bother to pick it up; I stomped on it as I walked past and enjoyed how it shattered.
Snape never looked back.
I'm not really certain what happened after that, but the Aurors didn't take my wand away. Harry and Snape know what I did, but I don't think anyone else heard about it. If they did, I'd probably be in Azkaban, or wherever it is that they put people who use unforgivable curses. And I see the way the other teachers look at Harry and Snape when they fight, as if there were a puzzle going on that they just can't fathom. Everyone knows something happened between them there, but no one knows exactly what.
Meanwhile, I'm not sleeping well, and I had to put a silence spell around my bed, since I wake up screaming. I keep dreaming that it wasn't Snape I used the Cruciatus on -- it was you. And some nights, I dream that you are using it on me.
Mum, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to use the curse. I really thought I was doing the right thing. I hope that sometime you can forgive me. I know I have no hope of forgiveness from Snape.
And I wonder if I'm ever going to be able to forgive myself.
