Ficlet Challenge #115: Who's Telling?
Title: Who's Telling?
Summary: Quirrell, Voldemort, and Nagini commiserate on Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts. Written for the prompt “Rose Red”.
Characters/Pairings: Quirinus Quirrell, Voldemort, Nagini, Severus Snape
Genre: General, Humor
Rating/Warnings: G
Medium: Ficlet
Word Count: 662
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Sure.
If yes, your Tumblr username: N/A
The little fluttering red rose charms were what finally did it. After the third one alighted gently on my fingertips with the delicate grace of a thousand fairies as I tried to eat my dinner, both I and my Lord were in strict agreement.
Valentine’s Day. Pah.
It was an insipid parody of love and for whatever reason, it offended me more than usual, like pink manicured fingernails on a chalkboard. I stood up to escape the omnipresent harp and birdsong burbling through the Great Hall. Two more rose charms attempted to assault me with their sweetly buzzing inanity and I flicked a wordless Finite at them, redolent of fresh springs as it splashed across the shining web of the charms. The roses thumped to the ground with a most satisfying splat.
There were definitely perks to being my Lord’s human familiar.
I caught Snape glancing at me as I walked out. He’d seen those two charms shut down without a wand, damn the man. Time to put on a little show again. I hunched and stumbled past him, muttering, “At least the student ch-ch-charms seem to be r-r-running out of p-p-ower.”
Snape’s eyes glittered at me with their usual mixture of suspicion and condescension before finally dismissing me.
My whole body was still for an endless heartbeat.
My Lord’s presence caressed through me. Oh, little squirrel, such violent hatred you have for that man. It’s downright heady.
Glad you’re enjoying it, my Lord. I did my best not to stomp audibly to my quarters. By the time I opened the door, Nagini was waiting and my Lord’s laughter was bounding through my bones like liquid moonlight.
I managed a good harumph. I’ll have you know you’re both ruining my sulk. It’s damnably hard to feel put out when your Lord’s mirth is flooding you and your fellow familiar is curling around your feet like a cat.
Nagini was decidedly unapologetic. Sit down. I’ll curl on your lap.
You just want me because I’m warm from dinner and stomping.
Yes. And?
My Lord’s voice strummed along my spine. She has a point, Quirinus. Besides, I could do with this turban off my face. Sit down. Put your feet up. Have a glass of wine for us all.
You’re just saying that because you like the rosé I picked up last time.
Yes. And?
I sighed, sat down, and poured us all a glass of the rosé. Nagini was a comforting coiled weight against me as I unwound the turban and raised my glass. Here’s to us and our dastardly plots. May evil triumph despite all the stories.
My Lord’s laughter sank into me like warm honey. You’ve just been reading the wrong stories, Quirinus. Trust me.
I shrugged. What choice have I got?
None whatsoever. Fortunately, it will all work out.
How do you know?
I’ve read the right stories.
I closed my eyes. Some day, I need to read some of these stories of yours.
My lovely squirrel, they’re simply everywhere.
My eyebrows rose of their own accord. Oh?
We call it history. You shouldn’t let Binns’ soporific instruction destroy your willingness to tap that treasure trove.
At that moment, some of my Lord’s omnipresent confidence began to infiltrate me. Not as a mantle I borrowed on occasion, but something of my very own. A kernel of faith, heaven help me.
I blamed the unicorn blood. This was the true curse, this sudden blossom of hope.
The right stories make all the difference, Quirinus. Winners are always brave, their deeds noble, their suffering part of the adventure on the way to glory. Perspective is everything.
And the winners direct the storytellers?
Precisely.
But surely no one has gone as far as we have. Not like this. I gestured helplessly at my head, at Nagini slumbering in my lap.
His amusement wrapped me as snugly as a fur cloak. You really need to read more ancient history, Quirinus. Have some more wine.
27 points
Summary: Quirrell, Voldemort, and Nagini commiserate on Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts. Written for the prompt “Rose Red”.
Characters/Pairings: Quirinus Quirrell, Voldemort, Nagini, Severus Snape
Genre: General, Humor
Rating/Warnings: G
Medium: Ficlet
Word Count: 662
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Sure.
If yes, your Tumblr username: N/A
The little fluttering red rose charms were what finally did it. After the third one alighted gently on my fingertips with the delicate grace of a thousand fairies as I tried to eat my dinner, both I and my Lord were in strict agreement.
Valentine’s Day. Pah.
It was an insipid parody of love and for whatever reason, it offended me more than usual, like pink manicured fingernails on a chalkboard. I stood up to escape the omnipresent harp and birdsong burbling through the Great Hall. Two more rose charms attempted to assault me with their sweetly buzzing inanity and I flicked a wordless Finite at them, redolent of fresh springs as it splashed across the shining web of the charms. The roses thumped to the ground with a most satisfying splat.
There were definitely perks to being my Lord’s human familiar.
I caught Snape glancing at me as I walked out. He’d seen those two charms shut down without a wand, damn the man. Time to put on a little show again. I hunched and stumbled past him, muttering, “At least the student ch-ch-charms seem to be r-r-running out of p-p-ower.”
Snape’s eyes glittered at me with their usual mixture of suspicion and condescension before finally dismissing me.
My whole body was still for an endless heartbeat.
My Lord’s presence caressed through me. Oh, little squirrel, such violent hatred you have for that man. It’s downright heady.
Glad you’re enjoying it, my Lord. I did my best not to stomp audibly to my quarters. By the time I opened the door, Nagini was waiting and my Lord’s laughter was bounding through my bones like liquid moonlight.
I managed a good harumph. I’ll have you know you’re both ruining my sulk. It’s damnably hard to feel put out when your Lord’s mirth is flooding you and your fellow familiar is curling around your feet like a cat.
Nagini was decidedly unapologetic. Sit down. I’ll curl on your lap.
You just want me because I’m warm from dinner and stomping.
Yes. And?
My Lord’s voice strummed along my spine. She has a point, Quirinus. Besides, I could do with this turban off my face. Sit down. Put your feet up. Have a glass of wine for us all.
You’re just saying that because you like the rosé I picked up last time.
Yes. And?
I sighed, sat down, and poured us all a glass of the rosé. Nagini was a comforting coiled weight against me as I unwound the turban and raised my glass. Here’s to us and our dastardly plots. May evil triumph despite all the stories.
My Lord’s laughter sank into me like warm honey. You’ve just been reading the wrong stories, Quirinus. Trust me.
I shrugged. What choice have I got?
None whatsoever. Fortunately, it will all work out.
How do you know?
I’ve read the right stories.
I closed my eyes. Some day, I need to read some of these stories of yours.
My lovely squirrel, they’re simply everywhere.
My eyebrows rose of their own accord. Oh?
We call it history. You shouldn’t let Binns’ soporific instruction destroy your willingness to tap that treasure trove.
At that moment, some of my Lord’s omnipresent confidence began to infiltrate me. Not as a mantle I borrowed on occasion, but something of my very own. A kernel of faith, heaven help me.
I blamed the unicorn blood. This was the true curse, this sudden blossom of hope.
The right stories make all the difference, Quirinus. Winners are always brave, their deeds noble, their suffering part of the adventure on the way to glory. Perspective is everything.
And the winners direct the storytellers?
Precisely.
But surely no one has gone as far as we have. Not like this. I gestured helplessly at my head, at Nagini slumbering in my lap.
His amusement wrapped me as snugly as a fur cloak. You really need to read more ancient history, Quirinus. Have some more wine.
27 points