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icarusYep. The story that wouldn't die. Now I have to decide if I force it to dabble along in real time or allow the time-jumps it wants to do.
The Albatross is here.
Part 1.
Part 2.
Percy wafted the smoke away from his face, with an involuntary cough. Snape had already stepped into the thick of it, swearing as a jet of green dust poured from his wand. So the best Percy could do was prop open the door. A cold breeze cut through the dark potions' shop, rippling the remaining cauldron fires.
"What is the matter with you?" Snape finally asked. He conjured a chisel and started chipping away at a layer of charred wood on the countertops. A rare customer paused outside their door, peering around curiously at the smoke. He looked at Percy, eyebrows raised at Snape's display temper, then edged away, his shoulders hunched in embarrassment.
"A first year knows to use a brass kettle to steep Mugwort and I don't dare even set you to cleaning the storeroom now for fear of what you might stack with what." Snape barely paused for breath as blackened chips flew, spattering his robes. "You're supposed to be an assistant. That means a help. An aid. Not more work on my part." Snape stopped hammering at the counter. "You would be most assuredly fired if this were your first week."
Percy shrank away and wondered if being fired might not be a good thing. At least matters would be settled. "I am very sorry. I'm doing my best under the circumstances."
"Circumstances?" Snape's sharp chin turned in his direction. He released the chisel and hammer. "What circumstances?"
Percy fell silent. He should be happy, but all he could think about was the weather, the autumn leaves piling up outdoors. He'd grown entirely too used to Snape's warm quarters.
Snape seemed to read his mind. "You currently have a roof over your head." He gave the chisel another whack. "—food. And I know for a fact, firsthand, that you've slept."
Percy flinched at the uncouth reminder of their sleeping arrangements, and glanced around, hoping their customer was long gone. A shop open to the public was not the place to discuss such matters.
Snape apparently caught the gesture, and his eyes rolled skyward, shoulders slumping as he leaned against the counter in open surprise. "Oh sweet bloody Merlin… you can't think that I plan to…."
"You're not… ah… interested in men?" A small shadow of hope hit Percy, reminding him that the majority of the world wasn't, for all that one might get that impression in prison.
Snape drew a sharp breath. "Whatever you might… whatever atrocities this world believes of me, I merely – I simply… there isn't a great deal of room. Those books in my library are rare and valuable. I'm not leaving that sort of temptation about for someone in your situation."
Against his better judgment, Percy was insulted. "Pardon? You think I'd steal your books?"
"The thought might cross your mind." Snape's tone was guarded.
"I'd die first!"
"Given the nature of the hex across that bedroom door, death would be preferable."
"You hexed the door?"
Snape rolled his eyes with a sigh of disgust. "Welcome to the Wizarding World, Percy. Yes. Of course I hexed the door!"
Percy's mouth was open in shock.
"I'm a light sleeper," Snape added, sounding defensive. "I would have had a counter-curse ready in time."
"You don't trust me," Percy said in a blank tone, aghast. It was a shock, though he told himself he ought to be used to it by now.
Snape gave him a disdainful tilt of his head and folded his arms. A fresh breeze shuddered through the door and pale trickles of orange light wriggled like little worms on the blackened counter behind Snape.
"I was not in Azkeban –" Percy quickly lowered his voice, just in case, and continued with asperity. "I was not in there for theft. I was there for supporting the wrong persons."
"Oh. You were a political prisoner then?" Snape said, lip curling in a smirk.
Percy took a breath. "It was a regular trial but it had nothing to do with anything criminal." He tried to say it patiently but he was so very tired of being distrusted, of the assumptions people made. They didn't understand: these things were complicated.
"So your imprisonment was a miscarriage of justice? How… unique." Snape examined his nails, looking bored, which only made Percy angrier.
"I was loyal to my employer and I did my job—" he said emphatically.
"Three Death Eaters went free because of your actions, Mr. Weasley! They have injured Aurors and killed since, or haven't you kept up with your handiwork?" Snape looked up, eyes blazing. "You don't seriously think I hired you out of ignorance. That the seal of Azkeban was of any surprise to me?"
Percy bit his lip. "I was never a Death Eater." He leveled the accusation, knowing instantly this was foolish.
"I killed fourteen persons, tortured three Muggles, poisoned various others with unknown results, supplied the Dark Lord and my cohorts with a large variety of deadly and experimental potions. Then I killed six Death Eaters and assisted the Ministry to do the same." Snape drew closer. "Don't you dare enumerate my failings. I know exactly what I've done."
"The latter don't count. That was for the right side," Percy said, startled to find himself reassuring Snape.
Snape's eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away. "You are strikingly amoral."
"I'm not a murderer. I could never—" Percy jerked his face away to look outside instead. He said softly, "I couldn't ever do the things you've done. Nor would I steal."
There was a long silence as Snape regarded him. It was almost refreshing, if painful, to hear what he really believed. Better to know, Percy tried to tell himself, than the whispers behind his back. Except that it really wasn't better. It just wasn't any worse.
"The sleeping arrangements stand," Snape said in a low, calm voice. "It's not because I don't trust you, Weasley. It's that you don't deserve to be trusted."
Percy stared outside, trying to recover, his face flushed and blood singing in his ears. He was grateful to see that the wooden stairs below were empty of customers. He asked under his breath, "And you do?"
If Snape heard over the steady grind of the chisel, he didn't answer.
~*~*~
That evening the silence hung even heavier than normal as they climbed the stair to Snape's room. Snape waited till Percy was inside, then out loud, placed the hex on the door in full view. Which was odd. Percy's brows drew together. It was either an insult or a strange form of honesty, but he wasn't sure which. But this more than anything else made him feel like a prisoner. As Snape shut the bathroom door and the shower started, the walls seemed to close in around Percy. He lay on top of the covers and stared and mentally traced the cracks in the ceiling.
As Snape climbed into bed, Percy obliged by sliding under the covers. Then in the dark he continued to stare at the ceiling, visualizing what he could no longer see. It was strange to be in bed with another person. The bed shifted uncomfortably next to Percy and blankets tugged to the left. Snape also stared at the ceiling, his head pillowed on folded arms, elbow nearly touching Percy's arm.
Percy sighed and admitted to the darkness, "I thought what I was doing was right."
"So did I," came the low answer.
The Albatross is here.
Part 1.
Part 2.
Percy wafted the smoke away from his face, with an involuntary cough. Snape had already stepped into the thick of it, swearing as a jet of green dust poured from his wand. So the best Percy could do was prop open the door. A cold breeze cut through the dark potions' shop, rippling the remaining cauldron fires.
"What is the matter with you?" Snape finally asked. He conjured a chisel and started chipping away at a layer of charred wood on the countertops. A rare customer paused outside their door, peering around curiously at the smoke. He looked at Percy, eyebrows raised at Snape's display temper, then edged away, his shoulders hunched in embarrassment.
"A first year knows to use a brass kettle to steep Mugwort and I don't dare even set you to cleaning the storeroom now for fear of what you might stack with what." Snape barely paused for breath as blackened chips flew, spattering his robes. "You're supposed to be an assistant. That means a help. An aid. Not more work on my part." Snape stopped hammering at the counter. "You would be most assuredly fired if this were your first week."
Percy shrank away and wondered if being fired might not be a good thing. At least matters would be settled. "I am very sorry. I'm doing my best under the circumstances."
"Circumstances?" Snape's sharp chin turned in his direction. He released the chisel and hammer. "What circumstances?"
Percy fell silent. He should be happy, but all he could think about was the weather, the autumn leaves piling up outdoors. He'd grown entirely too used to Snape's warm quarters.
Snape seemed to read his mind. "You currently have a roof over your head." He gave the chisel another whack. "—food. And I know for a fact, firsthand, that you've slept."
Percy flinched at the uncouth reminder of their sleeping arrangements, and glanced around, hoping their customer was long gone. A shop open to the public was not the place to discuss such matters.
Snape apparently caught the gesture, and his eyes rolled skyward, shoulders slumping as he leaned against the counter in open surprise. "Oh sweet bloody Merlin… you can't think that I plan to…."
"You're not… ah… interested in men?" A small shadow of hope hit Percy, reminding him that the majority of the world wasn't, for all that one might get that impression in prison.
Snape drew a sharp breath. "Whatever you might… whatever atrocities this world believes of me, I merely – I simply… there isn't a great deal of room. Those books in my library are rare and valuable. I'm not leaving that sort of temptation about for someone in your situation."
Against his better judgment, Percy was insulted. "Pardon? You think I'd steal your books?"
"The thought might cross your mind." Snape's tone was guarded.
"I'd die first!"
"Given the nature of the hex across that bedroom door, death would be preferable."
"You hexed the door?"
Snape rolled his eyes with a sigh of disgust. "Welcome to the Wizarding World, Percy. Yes. Of course I hexed the door!"
Percy's mouth was open in shock.
"I'm a light sleeper," Snape added, sounding defensive. "I would have had a counter-curse ready in time."
"You don't trust me," Percy said in a blank tone, aghast. It was a shock, though he told himself he ought to be used to it by now.
Snape gave him a disdainful tilt of his head and folded his arms. A fresh breeze shuddered through the door and pale trickles of orange light wriggled like little worms on the blackened counter behind Snape.
"I was not in Azkeban –" Percy quickly lowered his voice, just in case, and continued with asperity. "I was not in there for theft. I was there for supporting the wrong persons."
"Oh. You were a political prisoner then?" Snape said, lip curling in a smirk.
Percy took a breath. "It was a regular trial but it had nothing to do with anything criminal." He tried to say it patiently but he was so very tired of being distrusted, of the assumptions people made. They didn't understand: these things were complicated.
"So your imprisonment was a miscarriage of justice? How… unique." Snape examined his nails, looking bored, which only made Percy angrier.
"I was loyal to my employer and I did my job—" he said emphatically.
"Three Death Eaters went free because of your actions, Mr. Weasley! They have injured Aurors and killed since, or haven't you kept up with your handiwork?" Snape looked up, eyes blazing. "You don't seriously think I hired you out of ignorance. That the seal of Azkeban was of any surprise to me?"
Percy bit his lip. "I was never a Death Eater." He leveled the accusation, knowing instantly this was foolish.
"I killed fourteen persons, tortured three Muggles, poisoned various others with unknown results, supplied the Dark Lord and my cohorts with a large variety of deadly and experimental potions. Then I killed six Death Eaters and assisted the Ministry to do the same." Snape drew closer. "Don't you dare enumerate my failings. I know exactly what I've done."
"The latter don't count. That was for the right side," Percy said, startled to find himself reassuring Snape.
Snape's eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away. "You are strikingly amoral."
"I'm not a murderer. I could never—" Percy jerked his face away to look outside instead. He said softly, "I couldn't ever do the things you've done. Nor would I steal."
There was a long silence as Snape regarded him. It was almost refreshing, if painful, to hear what he really believed. Better to know, Percy tried to tell himself, than the whispers behind his back. Except that it really wasn't better. It just wasn't any worse.
"The sleeping arrangements stand," Snape said in a low, calm voice. "It's not because I don't trust you, Weasley. It's that you don't deserve to be trusted."
Percy stared outside, trying to recover, his face flushed and blood singing in his ears. He was grateful to see that the wooden stairs below were empty of customers. He asked under his breath, "And you do?"
If Snape heard over the steady grind of the chisel, he didn't answer.
~*~*~
That evening the silence hung even heavier than normal as they climbed the stair to Snape's room. Snape waited till Percy was inside, then out loud, placed the hex on the door in full view. Which was odd. Percy's brows drew together. It was either an insult or a strange form of honesty, but he wasn't sure which. But this more than anything else made him feel like a prisoner. As Snape shut the bathroom door and the shower started, the walls seemed to close in around Percy. He lay on top of the covers and stared and mentally traced the cracks in the ceiling.
As Snape climbed into bed, Percy obliged by sliding under the covers. Then in the dark he continued to stare at the ceiling, visualizing what he could no longer see. It was strange to be in bed with another person. The bed shifted uncomfortably next to Percy and blankets tugged to the left. Snape also stared at the ceiling, his head pillowed on folded arms, elbow nearly touching Percy's arm.
Percy sighed and admitted to the darkness, "I thought what I was doing was right."
"So did I," came the low answer.
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no subject
Date: 2005-10-31 02:23 am (UTC)very happy now
off the read
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Date: 2005-11-02 01:06 am (UTC)Icarus
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Date: 2005-10-31 02:36 am (UTC)♥
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Date: 2005-11-02 01:07 am (UTC)Icarus
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Date: 2005-10-31 08:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:10 am (UTC)Heh. Actually, it pretty much did. Fortunately Wizard fire-suppresion techniques are for more effective (and Snape's had a lot more practice than most wizards). Truth to tell, Snape would have been a lot more annoyed at Percy if he didn't have 20 years of practice teaching students like Longbottom. Flames? Poisoned kids? Pfft. Old hat.
Icarus
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Date: 2005-10-31 03:05 pm (UTC)Ohhh, very well put. Also very effective is the bit about the strange form of honesty- very apt.
I appreciate also the way you lay out all the obstacles and difficulties, but offer hope, and a hint of coming harmony (of sorts) with the final exchange.
Bravo!
Please keep it up!
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Date: 2005-11-02 01:18 am (UTC)Icarus
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Date: 2005-11-02 04:30 pm (UTC)Seriously tho, a little harshness might be just what he feels he deserves.
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Date: 2005-10-31 04:22 pm (UTC)(Also liked the way Percy feels imprisoned by that hex on the door -- and the way he traces the cracks on the ceiling with his eyes comes across as a habit he might have picked up in Azkaban. Maybe. Um) Just seems so resigned, though -- as if he's capable of marking time for years doing that. (And now I'm imagining him using that bottomless well of endurance with Snape. A kind of remote and untouchable patience.)
Blathering now, but really intrigued at the subtle changes that Askaban has made in Percy's personality!
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Date: 2005-11-02 02:01 am (UTC)You really caught onto something there. Yes, exactly. Percy reverted immediately to his "cell behaviour" without even noticing it.
but really intrigued at the subtle changes that Askaban has made in Percy's personality!
Yes, Azkeban has done a few things to Percy.
1) He lives more in the moment. No more five- and ten-year plans. The thought of looking ahead to 730 days of prison was just something he couldn't compass. Also he's recognized that life is beyond his control, largely because this situation seems entirely unfair: he was doing his job, what was right, and he got punished for it. (Which is a pretty solid piece of denial.) So he's developed that concentration of his, unintentionally, that used to be focused on the distant future goals to focus on the physical present. And he endures.
2) He's lost all sense of hope. He's not depressed or bleak, mind you, he just doesn't hope for anything better than his current situation. So even the least comfort or kindness shines gloriously now, while brutality and cruelty is merely expected. His standards are so low that nearly anyone can meet and exceed them. Including Snape.
3) He still sets goals, but very small, achievable ones. His drive for perfection is there as ever, but as a habit rather than stemming from any desire for success and recognition.
4) He has abandoned the need for recognition because, oh, where he was you were faaar better off ignored. It's the same drive for approval in a sense: he found that getting attention in his circumstances only drew a very negative sort of attention. His need for approval has not recovered though it does still exist.
5) Percy has always used his physical appearance to facilitate his aims, dressing for success, etc. Now he's developed the opposite without realizing it, as a defense mechanism: he is dirty and unkempt. His appearance is not a high priority right now, but he doesn't realize that he feels safer when people shift their eyes away to avoid looking at him.
Yes, Percy has changed a great deal. A lot of it is unhealthy however.
Icarus
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Date: 2005-11-02 03:52 pm (UTC)Wow. Really impressed by this detailed analysis of Percy's character, by all the thinking you've clearly put into it. No wonder he comes across with all kinds of interesting psychological undertones.
*nods at every point in list*
Warning: Entirely theoretical rambling follows -- discard at will:
I'm imagining him using that bottomless well of endurance with Snape. A kind of remote and untouchable patience.
Now this is my imagination, but in addition to the other changes in his character, I was also impressed by his ... untouchability(?). I mean, he struck me as having learned endurance in a kind of bone-deep (Bhuddist?) sort of a way -- and Snape may be controlled, but he's stormy inside, while this new Percy seems just quiet and still (because, yeah, hopeless).
So I imagined that Snape might rage at him and he wouldn't react -- I think I saw his hopelessness as a kind of inner strength, something that gave him an edge over Snape, actually. Er.
In any case -- thanks for the utterly fascinating fic and characters and ideas!
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Date: 2005-10-31 09:37 pm (UTC)It's all your fault that I, a thirty-something-ish person, have to collect smut for my friends now-- if JC hadn't given me Primers earlier this year I'd still be spending my evenings watching VCD peacefully *grumbles*
But about time-jumping: That might go together quite nicely with Percy's state of mind, and their somewhat staccato relationship--
Do what you like though, I'll read (and rec)it anyway. *smiles foolishly*
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Date: 2005-10-31 09:42 pm (UTC)"You are strikingly amoral."
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Date: 2005-10-31 10:13 pm (UTC)Icarus, I don't even like Percyfic, and you've sold me. Your work was half (the other half being The Shoebox Project) that I started reading fanfic at all, so take your time with this, be proud of what you're creating, and rock it like your leigon of squeeing fangirls/boys knows you can. It's an adventure, not an ordeal. :)
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Date: 2005-11-01 10:26 pm (UTC)Yeah, ignore that please, that's me going crazy. So I was reading it and I was like, aww short, and then I hit that last line and it could have been 55 words and it still would be amazing, if only that last line. I love what you are doing with these men. You work them like thread!
So exited for more.