snapshot fic
Jan. 18th, 2006 08:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
averygoodun42Hmm. I thought of this last night, though the story it belongs to hasn't been written yet, or even plotted out. This is kind of a segue between the first act and second. Please let me know what you think.
Title: Still
Author: averygoodun
Rating: whatever (anyone)
Warnings: inconclusive; excessive use of ellipses (unbetaed)
The lake was still. The sky was still. She knew that anyone else would see the scene as peaceful, but to her it felt dead. She stared out into the distance, hoping for something impossible.
It didn't feel like a week since the funeral. It felt as if everything had happened only an hour ago. She could still see him fall to the ground, a glazed look in his eyes as he collapsed into an uncomfortable pile. Every time she closed her eyes, that image assaulted her.
Intellectually, she knew there had been a good chance he would have died. There had been a good chance of her dying as well. But that didn't help her any. She knew his dying had been heroic and quite possibly saved the day. Ever since the fight ended he had been hailed as one of the heroes. That didn't help either.
Part of her wished he had been a coward. Part of her wished he hadn't shown up for the fight at all. Then he would be beside her, comforting her right now. His arm would be around her shoulder and he'd be whispering how sorry he was.
The other part of her knew if he had been the sort of person to not show up, she would never have loved him in the first place. She would more likely have hated him for his cowardice.
She did hate him. Looking out onto the scene tinged with death, she hated him more than anyone. She hated his eyes; she hated his bad humor. She hated his sacrifice. Everything about him hurt her so much, without him there.
"Hermione," a soft voice said from behind. Frowning, she looked around. He was there. How could he even show himself? Suddenly all her rage focused onto his figure, standing there a few feet away, looking like a grim reaper.
Jumping up she ran toward him. He opened his arms expecting her to embrace him, cry on his shoulder, but she had no intention of embracing him.
She slapped him as hard as she could.
Stunned, he let her pummel him a few moments before grabbing her wrists and pulling her into a bear hug. Even as she was squeezed against his chest, she struggled to punch him, trying to vent all her grief and anger and confusion into her movements. She struggled for a minute or two before giving up and just sagging into his embrace.
She felt him stroking her back soothingly; it made her feel sick to her stomach.
Pushing away from him she looked up at his sickly face, pale beyond belief. She couldn't stop the tears running down her face, nor did she care that his eyes were full of pain and quiet sympathy.
"How could you?" she asked.
"How could I not?" he answered. "If I hadn't, all would have been lost."
"But you killed... You knew..."
He took a step toward her, but stopped when she moved back a step. "There was nothing else I could have done."
"But you didn't have to--"
"I hadn't intended to. Do you think I wanted to?"
She turned away, unable to look at him for a second longer. "You hated him."
"And you loved him."
Confused, she looked at him again. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything." He stepped forward carefully, as if approaching a skittish animal. The implications sinking in, she looked at his face in horror.
"You can't... You didn't!"
He seemed to read her thoughts as he quickly raised his hands in self defense.
"If you hadn't loved him, it would have been easier to..." He stopped, seeing her horror turn into disgust.
"And what now? Do you really expect me to believe you?"
He took another tentative step toward her, but she stepped away from him again. Sighing, he looked toward the lake.
"I have no expectations. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. I wanted to save you as much grief as possible."
She laughed, sharp and bitter. "If you really wanted that, you never would have included him. He would have been blissfully ignorant of what you intended to do."
She noticed him clenching his jaw. "And if I had? What then?"
Compressing her lips, she huffed and looked away. She preferred the dead-still scene to the friend behind her.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
He didn't reply. After a few moments she became impatient, and turned to find him gone.
Snape's Journal
Feb. 27, 1998
Noticed Nott stalking Granger again. I'm afraid I might have to actually warn her. Maybe I could get Minerva to do it. Would save me the trouble.
Title: Still
Author: averygoodun
Rating: whatever (anyone)
Warnings: inconclusive; excessive use of ellipses (unbetaed)
The lake was still. The sky was still. She knew that anyone else would see the scene as peaceful, but to her it felt dead. She stared out into the distance, hoping for something impossible.
It didn't feel like a week since the funeral. It felt as if everything had happened only an hour ago. She could still see him fall to the ground, a glazed look in his eyes as he collapsed into an uncomfortable pile. Every time she closed her eyes, that image assaulted her.
Intellectually, she knew there had been a good chance he would have died. There had been a good chance of her dying as well. But that didn't help her any. She knew his dying had been heroic and quite possibly saved the day. Ever since the fight ended he had been hailed as one of the heroes. That didn't help either.
Part of her wished he had been a coward. Part of her wished he hadn't shown up for the fight at all. Then he would be beside her, comforting her right now. His arm would be around her shoulder and he'd be whispering how sorry he was.
The other part of her knew if he had been the sort of person to not show up, she would never have loved him in the first place. She would more likely have hated him for his cowardice.
She did hate him. Looking out onto the scene tinged with death, she hated him more than anyone. She hated his eyes; she hated his bad humor. She hated his sacrifice. Everything about him hurt her so much, without him there.
"Hermione," a soft voice said from behind. Frowning, she looked around. He was there. How could he even show himself? Suddenly all her rage focused onto his figure, standing there a few feet away, looking like a grim reaper.
Jumping up she ran toward him. He opened his arms expecting her to embrace him, cry on his shoulder, but she had no intention of embracing him.
She slapped him as hard as she could.
Stunned, he let her pummel him a few moments before grabbing her wrists and pulling her into a bear hug. Even as she was squeezed against his chest, she struggled to punch him, trying to vent all her grief and anger and confusion into her movements. She struggled for a minute or two before giving up and just sagging into his embrace.
She felt him stroking her back soothingly; it made her feel sick to her stomach.
Pushing away from him she looked up at his sickly face, pale beyond belief. She couldn't stop the tears running down her face, nor did she care that his eyes were full of pain and quiet sympathy.
"How could you?" she asked.
"How could I not?" he answered. "If I hadn't, all would have been lost."
"But you killed... You knew..."
He took a step toward her, but stopped when she moved back a step. "There was nothing else I could have done."
"But you didn't have to--"
"I hadn't intended to. Do you think I wanted to?"
She turned away, unable to look at him for a second longer. "You hated him."
"And you loved him."
Confused, she looked at him again. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything." He stepped forward carefully, as if approaching a skittish animal. The implications sinking in, she looked at his face in horror.
"You can't... You didn't!"
He seemed to read her thoughts as he quickly raised his hands in self defense.
"If you hadn't loved him, it would have been easier to..." He stopped, seeing her horror turn into disgust.
"And what now? Do you really expect me to believe you?"
He took another tentative step toward her, but she stepped away from him again. Sighing, he looked toward the lake.
"I have no expectations. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. I wanted to save you as much grief as possible."
She laughed, sharp and bitter. "If you really wanted that, you never would have included him. He would have been blissfully ignorant of what you intended to do."
She noticed him clenching his jaw. "And if I had? What then?"
Compressing her lips, she huffed and looked away. She preferred the dead-still scene to the friend behind her.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
He didn't reply. After a few moments she became impatient, and turned to find him gone.
Snape's Journal
Feb. 27, 1998
Noticed Nott stalking Granger again. I'm afraid I might have to actually warn her. Maybe I could get Minerva to do it. Would save me the trouble.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-01-19 03:15 am (UTC)"The lake was still. The sky was still. She knew that anyone else would see the scene as peaceful, but to her it felt dead."
I loved this line. Beautiful, and immediately sets the tone.
This snippet is great, and I want to read more! Continue! :)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-03 09:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-04 05:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-19 04:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-19 01:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-19 02:50 pm (UTC)