Time to spill....
So, a conversation that took place over the Pig Roast with Dr. Steve-O has made me think maybe I should post something I've not shared with anyone before. I like fanfiction....and I've even dabbled in it before. It's something I've found embarrassing for as long as I've read it (as most of it is horrible and doesn't even make sense), especially since many authors are so immature they project themselves into EVERY single freaking story, so it becomes more of an autobiography than a story with characters from another source.
Anyway, because I'd rather actually share my writing than just keep it hidden on my computer, I'm going to write it here. If you think it sucks, then let me know. If you liked it, though, (unlikely), then let me know, too. By the by, it's from Harry Potter.
Disclaimer: So this is obviously not-for-profit, and not meant to infringe on any copyrights. None of these characters belong to me.
You had never thought it would come to this…
Your rueful thoughts boiled in your mind as you stared blankly at nothing. Indeed, even if you were alert to your surroundings, and not buried deep in thought, there would be nothing to stare at: the room in which you are staying is nondescript to the point of being invisible. That, of course, was the point: you were in hiding from Voldemort and the Order, one side wanted to kill you and the other wanted to protect you.
How could you let him down?!
Snape’s betrayal and murder of Dumbledore was something so absolute, so wrenching, that it had changed your life forever. You knew that your seventh year would be different, certainly; Harry would probably meet Voldemort at some point during it and then the Prophecy would be fulfilled, but you didn’t think you’d be hunting down Horcruxes with Harry and Ron and skipping school entirely. (And really, sleeping in some run-down old dump as you did most every night was not much fun.) Even as you thought the words, you squirmed with the thought of missing a school year, but then your thoughts returned to their self-chastisement.
You let Harry down, and then you allowed Dumbledore, Harry’s last and greatest protector, to die…
And really, you mused, it was your fault. Or mostly, anyway. You had never taken Harry seriously when he accused Malfoy of being up to something this entire year. You had turned a deaf ear to Harry’s suspicions about Snape this year, too. You had always taken Snape’s side since Dumbledore trusted him, really, he even saved Harry’s life first year!
It’s your fault Dumbledore’s dead and Harry seems lost…
But this year, well, this year everything had changed. Harry had been right all along. He had been right, and had you taken him seriously, had you listened to him and did the research only you could (because, honestly, those two knew nothing about books and libraries…), perhaps you could have caught Malfoy in his wicked deeds in the Room of Requirement. Perhaps you could have found the Half-Blood Prince’s identity earlier, shown Harry, shown Dumbledore, even, and that might have changed things. Bloody hell, you thought, as your stomach plummeted to an all-time low, maybe had you researched approved Occlumency teaching methods, you would have been suspicious about the way Snape kept raping Harry’s mind!
The only one He ever feared, dead, because you were too blind to see a betrayal right in front of you…
Now, you knew that Harry’s would have hated and suspected Snape even if he had changed: Harry carried a grudge like a champion. You knew that Ron went along with his friends, and that when he suspected Snape, it was also because of hate, bad blood, and loyalty to Harry. But you! You! The logical one, the smart one, the bookworm of the group! You should have had a reason for your trust, and looking back, trusting Dumbledore’s trust wasn’t foolproof. There was the huge mistake of Occlumency with Snape, the never-corrected treatment of Harry while at the Dursley’s, and the huge mistake of keeping Harry in the dark about his destiny.
You didn’t believe in Harry.
And that’s really what it came down to, in the end. You didn’t trust Harry to be right. Granted, he’d been wrong before (you smile as you remember that he’s never actually had a plan that’s worked all that well….unless of course you helped him make it), but he was obviously right this time. As your stomach seemed to burn anew with guilt and admonishment, you thought that you would have traded your Ravenclaw intelligence, your near-Slytherin-like cunning, and your Gryffindor courage for some Hufflepuff loyalty. Had you listened this year, had you believed, Harry might not be the desperate person he is now, sleeping a bed away.
You didn’t believe in Harry.
You were always the one to believe in Harry, even in fourth year, when even Ron had turned against him. But this time, well, this time……..your mind drifted, and it somehow made a connection to a childhood tale. You blinked as you remembered the story, and started to cry when you realized that it was exactly what happened here.
You didn’t believe in Harry.
After all, he was the Boy Who Cried Snape.
So, let me know what you think. Geeky, I know, but I enjoy it.
Anyway, because I'd rather actually share my writing than just keep it hidden on my computer, I'm going to write it here. If you think it sucks, then let me know. If you liked it, though, (unlikely), then let me know, too. By the by, it's from Harry Potter.
Disclaimer: So this is obviously not-for-profit, and not meant to infringe on any copyrights. None of these characters belong to me.
You had never thought it would come to this…
Your rueful thoughts boiled in your mind as you stared blankly at nothing. Indeed, even if you were alert to your surroundings, and not buried deep in thought, there would be nothing to stare at: the room in which you are staying is nondescript to the point of being invisible. That, of course, was the point: you were in hiding from Voldemort and the Order, one side wanted to kill you and the other wanted to protect you.
How could you let him down?!
Snape’s betrayal and murder of Dumbledore was something so absolute, so wrenching, that it had changed your life forever. You knew that your seventh year would be different, certainly; Harry would probably meet Voldemort at some point during it and then the Prophecy would be fulfilled, but you didn’t think you’d be hunting down Horcruxes with Harry and Ron and skipping school entirely. (And really, sleeping in some run-down old dump as you did most every night was not much fun.) Even as you thought the words, you squirmed with the thought of missing a school year, but then your thoughts returned to their self-chastisement.
You let Harry down, and then you allowed Dumbledore, Harry’s last and greatest protector, to die…
And really, you mused, it was your fault. Or mostly, anyway. You had never taken Harry seriously when he accused Malfoy of being up to something this entire year. You had turned a deaf ear to Harry’s suspicions about Snape this year, too. You had always taken Snape’s side since Dumbledore trusted him, really, he even saved Harry’s life first year!
It’s your fault Dumbledore’s dead and Harry seems lost…
But this year, well, this year everything had changed. Harry had been right all along. He had been right, and had you taken him seriously, had you listened to him and did the research only you could (because, honestly, those two knew nothing about books and libraries…), perhaps you could have caught Malfoy in his wicked deeds in the Room of Requirement. Perhaps you could have found the Half-Blood Prince’s identity earlier, shown Harry, shown Dumbledore, even, and that might have changed things. Bloody hell, you thought, as your stomach plummeted to an all-time low, maybe had you researched approved Occlumency teaching methods, you would have been suspicious about the way Snape kept raping Harry’s mind!
The only one He ever feared, dead, because you were too blind to see a betrayal right in front of you…
Now, you knew that Harry’s would have hated and suspected Snape even if he had changed: Harry carried a grudge like a champion. You knew that Ron went along with his friends, and that when he suspected Snape, it was also because of hate, bad blood, and loyalty to Harry. But you! You! The logical one, the smart one, the bookworm of the group! You should have had a reason for your trust, and looking back, trusting Dumbledore’s trust wasn’t foolproof. There was the huge mistake of Occlumency with Snape, the never-corrected treatment of Harry while at the Dursley’s, and the huge mistake of keeping Harry in the dark about his destiny.
You didn’t believe in Harry.
And that’s really what it came down to, in the end. You didn’t trust Harry to be right. Granted, he’d been wrong before (you smile as you remember that he’s never actually had a plan that’s worked all that well….unless of course you helped him make it), but he was obviously right this time. As your stomach seemed to burn anew with guilt and admonishment, you thought that you would have traded your Ravenclaw intelligence, your near-Slytherin-like cunning, and your Gryffindor courage for some Hufflepuff loyalty. Had you listened this year, had you believed, Harry might not be the desperate person he is now, sleeping a bed away.
You didn’t believe in Harry.
You were always the one to believe in Harry, even in fourth year, when even Ron had turned against him. But this time, well, this time……..your mind drifted, and it somehow made a connection to a childhood tale. You blinked as you remembered the story, and started to cry when you realized that it was exactly what happened here.
You didn’t believe in Harry.
After all, he was the Boy Who Cried Snape.
So, let me know what you think. Geeky, I know, but I enjoy it.