Swinging: A Harry Potter Fanfic
"Folly" chapter eight from Neville's point of view.
Neville’s Dad was the best pusher ever. The other dads-or mums, or sometimes brothers-anyway, they would mostly just push for a little while and then say, you have to pump. And once Neville saw this one big kid push way too hard, and laugh when his little brother seemed scared at going so high. Just watching made Neville feel scared too.
Dad never did that, never.
Course there were also some kids who wanted to go higher, and got mad when their dad said he was tired or their mum said not too high.
But Dad didn’t ever get tired, and he never told Neville he wanted to go sit and talk. And he always listened when Neville told him how just high to make him go.
So Neville’s Dad was the best pusher ever.
Usually.
Only Miss Ingold was spoiling it today, well sort of, talking to his dad while he was pushing. Usually Dad talked to him while he pushed, but today he was talking to her.
And usually Neville thought she had a nice voice, but today her voice sounded all upset. And it made Dad miss a push, even!
Dad was s’posed to be pushing him, not listening to Miss Ingold.
“Da-ad!” Neville said, kicking his feet as the swing started to slow.
“Sorry, Neville,” Dad said, and pushed better. The voices behind Neville dropped to a sort of buzz, and Neville settled in to enjoy the swinging some more. The sun was starting to get hotter, which made the wind from the swinging feel nice on his face.
He wished Miss Ingold wasn’t there, though.
He liked her, and usually he liked having her around. She was nice, and she had a nice voice, and usually she made Dad laugh and lift his eyebrows. It was only, Dad should be talking to him while he was pushing.
Dad was pushing him just right, though.
Only then he didn’t. He pushed Neville way too hard, and Neville went higher than he liked. Neville gasped, and hung on tight. “Da-ad,” he complained when he got his breath again, as the swing started down.
The buzzing behind him turned into Dad’s voice saying, “-ry, Neville.”
Wait, what? The voices buzzed behind him. Neville swung up, and back, and at the back the buzz turned into his dad’s voice. He was whispering, and Neville could only make out one word, “fault.”
Only the way Dad’s whisper sounded made Neville hold even tighter onto the swing. Dad’s hands pushed Neville firmly, and Neville swung away back into the buzzing.
The buzzing. It must be a spell. So grown-ups could talk secrets. Grown ups liked to talk secrets. Neville remembered Gran, and Gramps, and Aunt Emily, stopping talking sometimes when he came into the room. And the words he heard when they thought he couldn’t hear. They’d defin’ly have used a buzzing spell to keep Neville from hearing if they’d known one, and Dad was way smarter than them.
Dad had told him that he wasn’t a Squib. And Dad had said that he wouldn’t care if he was, that he’d thought he was when he first took him, and that he didn’t care, he wanted Neville anyway.
Only, what was Dad telling Miss Ingold now, behind that buzzing spell?
Neville held his breath as the swing swung back.
“-former?” Miss Ingold was saying.
“No. Before.”
Dad’s hands pushed him.
“When I found out-“ Dad said.
Neville felt cold all over. His dad’s voice had been terrible, like-Neville didn’t know what it was like. Like Dad was talking about a monster. Only worse.
The swing swung back.
His dad was whispering again, but this time Neville could make out more words: “-danger her. Never her-“ and then the push, and a sort of choking sound, cut off by the buzzing.
Neville hated that buzzing by now. And who was her?
His dad’s voice was clear the next time, and very cold. Colder than Gran’s ever was, even. And hating.
Neville hadn’t known that Dad’s voice could sound like that. He was saying, “-harm. To others.”
Neville was scared a little when Dad pushed him that time. That voice was scary.
The next time the swing came down there were no words, only breathy sounds. Neville had sounded like that, that one time he’d cried so hard at Mum’s flat that he couldn’t breathe right for a while. That time when Dad had held Neville until he could breathe right again, and told him he’d never leave him there.
Only Dad hadn’t been crying, so why did he sound like that?
There were no words for a while, but Neville held his breath to listen every time. Finally he heard Miss Ingold’s voice, only it didn’t sound nice like usual. It sounded like Gran’s when she was telling Neville something he should do, only Gran already knew he’d do it wrong.
She was saying, “-in your footsteps?”
Dad said, “No-“ and stopped. And breathed funny again.
And again.
Finally Neville heard Miss Ingold’s voice again, still not sounding very nice, saying “-people who raised his mum.”
And his dad missed another push.
That Miss Ingold was upsetting his dad. Neville wouldn’t let her. He usually liked to tell his dad to stop pushing and then let the swing slowly stop by itself, but this time he dragged his feet to stop it fast.
It stopped fast, and he jumped off and told his dad, “You’re s’posed to pay attention to me when you’re swinging me, Dad. Twice now you stopped pushing.”
If Dad had been talking to Neville like he should’ve, he wouldn’t’ve gotten upset.
His dad was upset. His face was all funny, but he was trying to pretend like he wasn’t. Neville did that sometimes.
Dad said, “Indeed. Shall we try the roundabout next?”
Neville grabbed his hand and dragged him away from Miss Ingold. “Spin me!”
*
A/N: it was my authorial choice to write Folly strictly from Snape’s PoV, but I just had to find out what Neville actually heard, swinging in and out of the range of that Muffliato….
Neville’s Dad was the best pusher ever. The other dads-or mums, or sometimes brothers-anyway, they would mostly just push for a little while and then say, you have to pump. And once Neville saw this one big kid push way too hard, and laugh when his little brother seemed scared at going so high. Just watching made Neville feel scared too.
Dad never did that, never.
Course there were also some kids who wanted to go higher, and got mad when their dad said he was tired or their mum said not too high.
But Dad didn’t ever get tired, and he never told Neville he wanted to go sit and talk. And he always listened when Neville told him how just high to make him go.
So Neville’s Dad was the best pusher ever.
Usually.
Only Miss Ingold was spoiling it today, well sort of, talking to his dad while he was pushing. Usually Dad talked to him while he pushed, but today he was talking to her.
And usually Neville thought she had a nice voice, but today her voice sounded all upset. And it made Dad miss a push, even!
Dad was s’posed to be pushing him, not listening to Miss Ingold.
“Da-ad!” Neville said, kicking his feet as the swing started to slow.
“Sorry, Neville,” Dad said, and pushed better. The voices behind Neville dropped to a sort of buzz, and Neville settled in to enjoy the swinging some more. The sun was starting to get hotter, which made the wind from the swinging feel nice on his face.
He wished Miss Ingold wasn’t there, though.
He liked her, and usually he liked having her around. She was nice, and she had a nice voice, and usually she made Dad laugh and lift his eyebrows. It was only, Dad should be talking to him while he was pushing.
Dad was pushing him just right, though.
Only then he didn’t. He pushed Neville way too hard, and Neville went higher than he liked. Neville gasped, and hung on tight. “Da-ad,” he complained when he got his breath again, as the swing started down.
The buzzing behind him turned into Dad’s voice saying, “-ry, Neville.”
Wait, what? The voices buzzed behind him. Neville swung up, and back, and at the back the buzz turned into his dad’s voice. He was whispering, and Neville could only make out one word, “fault.”
Only the way Dad’s whisper sounded made Neville hold even tighter onto the swing. Dad’s hands pushed Neville firmly, and Neville swung away back into the buzzing.
The buzzing. It must be a spell. So grown-ups could talk secrets. Grown ups liked to talk secrets. Neville remembered Gran, and Gramps, and Aunt Emily, stopping talking sometimes when he came into the room. And the words he heard when they thought he couldn’t hear. They’d defin’ly have used a buzzing spell to keep Neville from hearing if they’d known one, and Dad was way smarter than them.
Dad had told him that he wasn’t a Squib. And Dad had said that he wouldn’t care if he was, that he’d thought he was when he first took him, and that he didn’t care, he wanted Neville anyway.
Only, what was Dad telling Miss Ingold now, behind that buzzing spell?
Neville held his breath as the swing swung back.
“-former?” Miss Ingold was saying.
“No. Before.”
Dad’s hands pushed him.
“When I found out-“ Dad said.
Neville felt cold all over. His dad’s voice had been terrible, like-Neville didn’t know what it was like. Like Dad was talking about a monster. Only worse.
The swing swung back.
His dad was whispering again, but this time Neville could make out more words: “-danger her. Never her-“ and then the push, and a sort of choking sound, cut off by the buzzing.
Neville hated that buzzing by now. And who was her?
His dad’s voice was clear the next time, and very cold. Colder than Gran’s ever was, even. And hating.
Neville hadn’t known that Dad’s voice could sound like that. He was saying, “-harm. To others.”
Neville was scared a little when Dad pushed him that time. That voice was scary.
The next time the swing came down there were no words, only breathy sounds. Neville had sounded like that, that one time he’d cried so hard at Mum’s flat that he couldn’t breathe right for a while. That time when Dad had held Neville until he could breathe right again, and told him he’d never leave him there.
Only Dad hadn’t been crying, so why did he sound like that?
There were no words for a while, but Neville held his breath to listen every time. Finally he heard Miss Ingold’s voice, only it didn’t sound nice like usual. It sounded like Gran’s when she was telling Neville something he should do, only Gran already knew he’d do it wrong.
She was saying, “-in your footsteps?”
Dad said, “No-“ and stopped. And breathed funny again.
And again.
Finally Neville heard Miss Ingold’s voice again, still not sounding very nice, saying “-people who raised his mum.”
And his dad missed another push.
That Miss Ingold was upsetting his dad. Neville wouldn’t let her. He usually liked to tell his dad to stop pushing and then let the swing slowly stop by itself, but this time he dragged his feet to stop it fast.
It stopped fast, and he jumped off and told his dad, “You’re s’posed to pay attention to me when you’re swinging me, Dad. Twice now you stopped pushing.”
If Dad had been talking to Neville like he should’ve, he wouldn’t’ve gotten upset.
His dad was upset. His face was all funny, but he was trying to pretend like he wasn’t. Neville did that sometimes.
Dad said, “Indeed. Shall we try the roundabout next?”
Neville grabbed his hand and dragged him away from Miss Ingold. “Spin me!”
*
A/N: it was my authorial choice to write Folly strictly from Snape’s PoV, but I just had to find out what Neville actually heard, swinging in and out of the range of that Muffliato….