Challenge 62: Broken wand
Title: The winner
Rating: G
A/N. I m not altogether pleased with it, but it wouldn't go away.
The Winner
He stood silently, looking at each of the members of the Wizengamot in turn. The last time he had been here he had been numbed by fear; he had kept his eyes to the tiled floor and had tried to ignore their voices. This time, he wanted to hear.
He hid a disdainful smile at Fudge’s pompous words. If Dumbledore had made it in time, this prat wouldn’t be in the position to talk at all. But Dumbledore wasn’t here, and so Fudge had taken over.
He stretched his sore shoulders. Really, the prison cots were not a bit more comfortable than the last time. But one thing was better today. He would be found guilty, he was sure, but no matter what they did they couldn’t send him to the Dementors. He was actually thankful that Voldemort, finding he couldn’t control them as much as he wanted to, had destroyed the Dementors himself.
“Severus Snape, step forward!”
He walked closer to Fudge, his shackles rattling like those of the ghost of Canterville in that muggle story he had read. He smiled at the thought. Oh yes, I am going to be the ghost in Fudge’s castle.
He heard his sentence calmly, with none of the anger some other Death Eaters had shown. But then, he was not a Death Eater. Even though Fudge refused to see that, others would. He knew that the Order was already working to free him. As much as he disliked all those Gryffindors, their work would be useful for him. It was good to have them as - friends.
When one of the guards brought a small package to Fudge, Snape at first didn’t realise what it was. Fudge opened the box and picked up something long and dark. Snape swallowed. His wand!
Suddenly it didn’t matter that he was morally the winner over Fudge. It didn’t matter that he was going to be set free shortly.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Fudge’s hands, those hands holding his wand. He had never let his wand out of his reach when he had gotten it back after getting out of Azkaban.
He nodded when he was asked whether it was his wand, and watched them label it and pack it back into its box.
He watched as Fudge put the box on the table, halfway over the edge. He watched as Fudge, one hand over the box on the table, sat down. He watched as the other end of the box was pushed down by Fudge’s other hand, hidden in his robes.
He heard the crack. It echoed in his mind like thunder. “Oh my, what an unfortunate accident!” he heard one of the witches say. But all he could do was to stare into Fudge’s satisfied, gloating smile.
Rating: G
A/N. I m not altogether pleased with it, but it wouldn't go away.
The Winner
He stood silently, looking at each of the members of the Wizengamot in turn. The last time he had been here he had been numbed by fear; he had kept his eyes to the tiled floor and had tried to ignore their voices. This time, he wanted to hear.
He hid a disdainful smile at Fudge’s pompous words. If Dumbledore had made it in time, this prat wouldn’t be in the position to talk at all. But Dumbledore wasn’t here, and so Fudge had taken over.
He stretched his sore shoulders. Really, the prison cots were not a bit more comfortable than the last time. But one thing was better today. He would be found guilty, he was sure, but no matter what they did they couldn’t send him to the Dementors. He was actually thankful that Voldemort, finding he couldn’t control them as much as he wanted to, had destroyed the Dementors himself.
“Severus Snape, step forward!”
He walked closer to Fudge, his shackles rattling like those of the ghost of Canterville in that muggle story he had read. He smiled at the thought. Oh yes, I am going to be the ghost in Fudge’s castle.
He heard his sentence calmly, with none of the anger some other Death Eaters had shown. But then, he was not a Death Eater. Even though Fudge refused to see that, others would. He knew that the Order was already working to free him. As much as he disliked all those Gryffindors, their work would be useful for him. It was good to have them as - friends.
When one of the guards brought a small package to Fudge, Snape at first didn’t realise what it was. Fudge opened the box and picked up something long and dark. Snape swallowed. His wand!
Suddenly it didn’t matter that he was morally the winner over Fudge. It didn’t matter that he was going to be set free shortly.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Fudge’s hands, those hands holding his wand. He had never let his wand out of his reach when he had gotten it back after getting out of Azkaban.
He nodded when he was asked whether it was his wand, and watched them label it and pack it back into its box.
He watched as Fudge put the box on the table, halfway over the edge. He watched as Fudge, one hand over the box on the table, sat down. He watched as the other end of the box was pushed down by Fudge’s other hand, hidden in his robes.
He heard the crack. It echoed in his mind like thunder. “Oh my, what an unfortunate accident!” he heard one of the witches say. But all he could do was to stare into Fudge’s satisfied, gloating smile.