Where It Stops…
Summary: /Oneshot/ /Possibly AU/ Round and round the merry-go-round goes… /Shorter alternate version in Ch.2/
Fandom: Harry Potter
Date written: July 13, 2011
Rating: T for some odd components.
Pairings: None… though you could see subtext in the relationships if you really wanted to.
Word Count: 1,147 (originally 1,118; changed 8/7/2011)
Disclaimer: No, I don't own a license to print money, that's J.K. Rowling of whom you're thinking. Whoops – I meant, "own Harry Potter".
Round and round the merry-go-round goes…
Two boys meeting in the sunlight in Godric's Hollow; one grinned as he shook the other's hand, and the other, though he gazed back with uneasy, wary eyes (Never trust anyone, whispered his mother's voice in the back of his mind), smiled, too.
A change…
Now it was a boy and a girl in the shade beneath a tree near Spinner's End; one grinned as she shook the other's hand, and the other, though he gazed back with uneasy, wary eyes (Never trust a Mudblood, whispered his mother's voice in the back of his mind), smiled, too.
A change…
Two boys, again, on board the Hogwarts Express; one grinned as he shook the other's hand, and the other, though he gazed back with uneasy, wary eyes (Never trust a Black, whispered his mother's voice in the back of his mind), smiled, too.
A change…
Two boys, once more, on board the Hogwarts Express; one smirked as he held out his hand, and the other gazed at him with uneasy, wary eyes (He looks like Dudley, and I must never trust Dudley, whispered his own voice in the back of his mind; he had had no mother to teach him), and did not know whether to smile.
Where it stops…
"You stupid little boy, standing in the way of things your ignorant, grubby little mind can't even begin to comprehend – Crucio! CRUCIO!"
(I can never trust him again-)
"-a Mudblood like Evans-"
(I can never trust him again-)
"Prongs, Prongs, why'd you rescue him? This is Snivellus we're talking about – he'd finally have gotten what he deserves for poking his greasy nose places where it doesn't belong-"
(I can never trust him again-)
"There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin – You-Know-Who was one-"
"-but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been-"
An echo of a dream, a dim, unreal memory that didn't even feel like his own: a man with long blond hair and a pale, pointed face kneeling before him, saying, "-the Malfoys will always serve you, my Lord-"
(Can I trust him?)
They trusted the Dursleys to take care of you, to tell you all about the Wizarding world, they left you there for ten years: doesn't their stupidity and carelessness prove how unwise it is ever to trust? a faint voice whispered, its words sliding through his mind like the sinuous coils of a snake.
(Speak coolly and regard him coldly, and he will never realize the wound made you bleed; he will never guess that you bled out…)
"Yes… it certainly has been a long time, hasn't it, Lord Grindelwald? Though I'm afraid you won't be in possession of that title after today…"
(Speak coolly and regard him coldly, and no one will never realize the wound made you bleed; no one will never guess that you bled out…)
"But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"
(Speak coolly and regard this one coldly, and you will never realize that the wound made you bleed; you will never guess that you bled out…)
"Actually, Wormtail – funny you should ask, Lily and I talked it over, and we decided you should be our Secret-Keeper-"
(Speak coolly and regard him coldly, and they will never realize you are wounded; they will never guess that you are bleeding; they will never notice when you bleed out…)
I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he did not speak them; the hand was held out to him, but he did not take it.
…Nobody knows.
At the victory celebrations, the 'modesty' of the defeater of the Dark Lord Grindelwald stemmed from acute desperation to just stop talking about the duel; not until later, when the trumped-up honors and congratulations had faded to a manageable level, could he finally convince himself that, in the last seconds of the duel, he had not seen a flash of regret, and a hand letting go of the Elder Wand.
(What use is regret, when it comes too late?)
"She and James put their faith in the wrong person. Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?" The cold blue eyes watched the wounded man without a flicker of empathy, their owner's impassive face beyond even contempt. "Her boy survives."
(Your regret is of use, though it comes too late.)
Prongs, Prongs… I know where I went wrong now. I agreed to your plan with the fake Secret-Keeper. The prisoner stared at the wall, his knees tucked up to his chest and his arms folded on top of them, his teeth gritted in concentration as he fought the Dementors enough to think clearly. Who planted that in your head, anyway? Wormtail? If I ever – if I ever – see or hear of that little rodent again, I'm breaking out of here, by fair means or foul, and I'm going to have rat fillet for dinner within the month. He let out a cough that once might have been a barking laugh. It can't be worse than the slop they serve here, that's for sure.
(Your regret will be of use, though those who lack the truth think it is already too late.)
Different words came to his mind – Say you're sorry for what you said about Ron first, then I'll consider it. Reluctance stopped his tongue, though; the words sounded stupid even in his own mind, and he was sure that the other boy would just sneer at him if he asked. It would be so easy to just reject him, to savor the most agreeable feeling of power that he had seen flash across other children's faces as they mocked him for thinking they'd ever want to be his friend; the faint voice told him it would be the right choice, that trust only brought betrayal, that friends brought weakness…
But he didn't want that; however reluctantly, he wanted to give the other boy the chance that no other child had given him, to show that he could be decent if only someone could tell him what he was doing wrong, to –
(Show regret now, before it's too late.)
He closed his eyes, thinking hard about his choices; he thought about what he wanted to do, what that faint voice almost from outside his mind kept saying, what he thought would happen and what might happen, what a risk it was to trust and what an odd thing it was to have the choice to trust, what he had been (freak), was now (Boy-Who-Lived), and could be (Headmaster? My Lord?) –
(Can patterns be changed?)
Harry swallowed hard, opened his eyes, and, without a moment's more hesitation, made his choice.
Author's Note: A few notes –
Originally the …Nobody knows header was planned to be the second-to-last line of the story and directly follow "(Can patterns be changed?)", but the story structure didn't work out that way. Chapter 2 shows a truncated version which looks more like the original plan.
"Can patterns be changed" refers to my fic Patterns, which is also the source of the three-and-one structure used here. (It also happened to fit the relationships quite neatly.)
Finally, I'm obviously quoting characters from canon at several points, but I also used two phrases from canon and one from Fire Emblem. Here they are:
Fic: They trusted the Dursleys to take care of you, to tell you all about the Wizarding world, they left you there for ten years: doesn't their stupidity and carelessness prove how unwise it is ever to trust?
Original: …it had been a grave mistake to trust Bellatrix and Malfoy: Didn't their stupidity and carelessness prove how unwise it was ever to trust? (Deathly Hallows)
Fic/Original: …a most agreeable feeling of power… (Half-Blood Prince)
Fic: … that trust only brought betrayal, that friends brought weakness…
Original: "Heh heh heh heh... It confirmed some things for me. That trust brings betrayal. That friends bring weakness!" (Nergal, Fire Emblem)
(Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is owned by Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.)
Thanks for reading!