gift fic: ... and counting [Severus, Neville - G - 0.5k]
Title: ...and counting
Author: joan_waterhouse
written for: lordhellebore's prompt: Neville, Snape, confidence
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Severus Snape, Neville Longbottom
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word Count: ~ 500
Summary: Two men - one losing and one gaining confidence.
A/N: I'm sorry that you had to wait so long for this. And I'm equally sorry that Snape and Neville are not as connected here as you'd probably hoped they would be. This turned out to become just a little piece about two men - one losing and one gaining confidence.
Thank you to vaysh11 for the beta. :)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
...and counting
Ten is for his magic. With the wave of his wand Severus could send his father flying to the other side of the room. He likes to think there's no need to prove it.
Nine is for the number of lilies he brings her on her birthday.
Eight is for the invisible gashes in his heart.
Seven is for how often he thought there might be a chance they heal.
Six is for the steps he takes, out of the circle, into the middle, before the Dark Lord to receive the Mark.
Five is for the times he changes his mind before he finally shakes Dumbledore's hand.
Four is for the seconds that pass after he pushed Draco to the side. They stretch like hours, parch his throat, numb his brain. Then he croaks, "Avada Kedavra!"
Three is for the inches of Firewhisky he drinks each morning.
Two is for the eyes of Lily's boy, reminding him with every defiant look, I could have been your son.
One is for this last moment, for this last bit of strength with which he asks for the one thing he's been denied: to be seen.
It takes a brave soul to keep going when confidence has long since departed.
One is for a small start. Neville draws one tiny leaf on the bench in the Potions classroom. It makes him feel like a rebel.
Two is for the breaths he takes before stepping in front of the whole class to face his Boggart.
Three is for the lumps of sugar he takes in his tea when his Gran isn't looking.
Four is for the beats his heart hammers each single second, threatening to burst his chest. His face is flushed with the fear to be laughed at any moment as he first asks Hermione and then Ginny to go with him to the Yule Ball.
Five is for the seconds he holds Snape's gaze before he concedes he doesn't know the answer. (Five is also for the points that are then taken from Gryffindor.)
Six is for the number of years it's taken him to admit - albeit only to himself - that he thinks he could do it just as well as Harry can. If not better.
Seven is for the days in a week he refuses to submit to the Carrows.
(Eight is a number pushed all the way back in his mind. Eight times he mumbles, just this side of too loud, "Potter will save us all" and "Muggle Pride!" or anything that comes to mind, really, as the Dark Arts teacher's eyes are searching for another "volunteer" and come to rest on a first-year.
Crucio!)
Nine is for the ways he doesn't cry.
Ten is for the rubies gleaming on the the sword he wields; a glinting blade raised slowly but inevitably by a strong arm, until it's finally brought down to defeat its foe.
*
Author: joan_waterhouse
written for: lordhellebore's prompt: Neville, Snape, confidence
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Severus Snape, Neville Longbottom
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word Count: ~ 500
Summary: Two men - one losing and one gaining confidence.
A/N: I'm sorry that you had to wait so long for this. And I'm equally sorry that Snape and Neville are not as connected here as you'd probably hoped they would be. This turned out to become just a little piece about two men - one losing and one gaining confidence.
Thank you to vaysh11 for the beta. :)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
...and counting
Ten is for his magic. With the wave of his wand Severus could send his father flying to the other side of the room. He likes to think there's no need to prove it.
Nine is for the number of lilies he brings her on her birthday.
Eight is for the invisible gashes in his heart.
Seven is for how often he thought there might be a chance they heal.
Six is for the steps he takes, out of the circle, into the middle, before the Dark Lord to receive the Mark.
Five is for the times he changes his mind before he finally shakes Dumbledore's hand.
Four is for the seconds that pass after he pushed Draco to the side. They stretch like hours, parch his throat, numb his brain. Then he croaks, "Avada Kedavra!"
Three is for the inches of Firewhisky he drinks each morning.
Two is for the eyes of Lily's boy, reminding him with every defiant look, I could have been your son.
One is for this last moment, for this last bit of strength with which he asks for the one thing he's been denied: to be seen.
It takes a brave soul to keep going when confidence has long since departed.
One is for a small start. Neville draws one tiny leaf on the bench in the Potions classroom. It makes him feel like a rebel.
Two is for the breaths he takes before stepping in front of the whole class to face his Boggart.
Three is for the lumps of sugar he takes in his tea when his Gran isn't looking.
Four is for the beats his heart hammers each single second, threatening to burst his chest. His face is flushed with the fear to be laughed at any moment as he first asks Hermione and then Ginny to go with him to the Yule Ball.
Five is for the seconds he holds Snape's gaze before he concedes he doesn't know the answer. (Five is also for the points that are then taken from Gryffindor.)
Six is for the number of years it's taken him to admit - albeit only to himself - that he thinks he could do it just as well as Harry can. If not better.
Seven is for the days in a week he refuses to submit to the Carrows.
(Eight is a number pushed all the way back in his mind. Eight times he mumbles, just this side of too loud, "Potter will save us all" and "Muggle Pride!" or anything that comes to mind, really, as the Dark Arts teacher's eyes are searching for another "volunteer" and come to rest on a first-year.
Crucio!)
Nine is for the ways he doesn't cry.
Ten is for the rubies gleaming on the the sword he wields; a glinting blade raised slowly but inevitably by a strong arm, until it's finally brought down to defeat its foe.
*