Do the Right Thing -- LDWS Week 5
Author: maybe1ce
Title: Do the Right Thing
Rating: PG
Words:486
Author's Note (if any): Special thanks to WonderBeta (MissDaisy1) and Captain Proofreader (Undercloakkept), who shall be named later for appropriate adulation...
It is Time.
Hugo read the parchment for what had to be the hundredth time. He knew what it meant. The Brotherhood had found him an unregistered wand and hidden it behind Greenhouse 3. So, finally, tonight was the night when he'd do the Right Thing, when he'd step up and strike in the name of everything his family had suffered in the war. Tonight, the message would be sent: the righteous would not stand by and let evildoers pass on their legacy of ill-gotten gains. Tonight, Scorpius Malfoy would learn his place in the world, one where he could not win school prizes or Quiddich matches or the affections of decent witches like Rose. Nasty business, but essential. It was the Right Thing. Hugo knew it.
So, then. What felt so wrong?
Hugo stared at the object in his hands, his distorted reflection blinking back from the marred surface. Just seeing the mangled locket made his blood boil as he remembered that night last summer -- the night he had dared to ask questions about the war, and his parents had dared to answer. His Mum had cried...his Dad had cried. Hugo was horrified to hear it all. His strong, brilliant Mum -- tortured to frail unconsciousness. His brave, loyal Dad -- tormented to the point that he deserted the people he most loved. After 20 years, Voldemort's evil still had the power to wound them all.
Hugo rose with purpose, ready to do the Right Thing. His fist closed over the locket, and he stopped short, recalling his father's words when he gave it to him that night.
"Hugo...I just want you to remember when you see this..." Dad's words were halting, his voice scratchy with emotion. "We all hear voices in our lives...and, well, even if you never actually have some possessed hunk of jewelry telling you things, you will at some point have to choose who to believe in this world. Now, I could give you some speech about only believing the right voices, but I'd be lying if I said that you could get through without sometimes choosing wrong. The thing this locket means -- the thing it's meant to me -- is that even when you've listened to the wrong voices -- it's never too late to do right, it's never too late to come back. Never." His eyes were bright with intensity, vivid blue and bloodshot red. "Remember that, son. Please."
"Yeah, Dad." Hugo had avoided his father's gaze that night. His body was still shaking with rage over the stories he had just heard. He had been completely unprepared to process anything more.
Now, months later, it finally sunk in. "Never too late," Hugo repeated softly.
It was time. It truly was. Hugo stared blankly at the locket for a moment, and then walked to the door, finally confident and ready to do the Right Thing..
This was my lowest-performing week. I just barely survived! Curiously, out of the 8 drabbles submitted, mine was the only story that even mentioned Hugo! Poor boy will need years of therapy.
Title: Do the Right Thing
Rating: PG
Words:486
Author's Note (if any): Special thanks to WonderBeta (MissDaisy1) and Captain Proofreader (Undercloakkept), who shall be named later for appropriate adulation...
It is Time.
Hugo read the parchment for what had to be the hundredth time. He knew what it meant. The Brotherhood had found him an unregistered wand and hidden it behind Greenhouse 3. So, finally, tonight was the night when he'd do the Right Thing, when he'd step up and strike in the name of everything his family had suffered in the war. Tonight, the message would be sent: the righteous would not stand by and let evildoers pass on their legacy of ill-gotten gains. Tonight, Scorpius Malfoy would learn his place in the world, one where he could not win school prizes or Quiddich matches or the affections of decent witches like Rose. Nasty business, but essential. It was the Right Thing. Hugo knew it.
So, then. What felt so wrong?
Hugo stared at the object in his hands, his distorted reflection blinking back from the marred surface. Just seeing the mangled locket made his blood boil as he remembered that night last summer -- the night he had dared to ask questions about the war, and his parents had dared to answer. His Mum had cried...his Dad had cried. Hugo was horrified to hear it all. His strong, brilliant Mum -- tortured to frail unconsciousness. His brave, loyal Dad -- tormented to the point that he deserted the people he most loved. After 20 years, Voldemort's evil still had the power to wound them all.
Hugo rose with purpose, ready to do the Right Thing. His fist closed over the locket, and he stopped short, recalling his father's words when he gave it to him that night.
"Hugo...I just want you to remember when you see this..." Dad's words were halting, his voice scratchy with emotion. "We all hear voices in our lives...and, well, even if you never actually have some possessed hunk of jewelry telling you things, you will at some point have to choose who to believe in this world. Now, I could give you some speech about only believing the right voices, but I'd be lying if I said that you could get through without sometimes choosing wrong. The thing this locket means -- the thing it's meant to me -- is that even when you've listened to the wrong voices -- it's never too late to do right, it's never too late to come back. Never." His eyes were bright with intensity, vivid blue and bloodshot red. "Remember that, son. Please."
"Yeah, Dad." Hugo had avoided his father's gaze that night. His body was still shaking with rage over the stories he had just heard. He had been completely unprepared to process anything more.
Now, months later, it finally sunk in. "Never too late," Hugo repeated softly.
It was time. It truly was. Hugo stared blankly at the locket for a moment, and then walked to the door, finally confident and ready to do the Right Thing..
This was my lowest-performing week. I just barely survived! Curiously, out of the 8 drabbles submitted, mine was the only story that even mentioned Hugo! Poor boy will need years of therapy.