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Title: Different in Person
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G
Genre: Angst/Hurt-comfort
Pairing: Harry Potter/Neville Longbottom - preslash
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Professor Moody is possibly the best Defence teacher they've had, but that doesn't mean his lessons don't hurt.
Author's Notes: This was written for this year's![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rarepair_shorts Wishlist event, for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
penumbria_fics, and it's based off her requests for 'Slytherin!Harry' and 'Angst!Harry'.
Longbottom is sitting on the stairs, slumped against the wall. The rest of the Gryffindors are vanishing downwards, laughing and chattering excitedly. Harry hesitates. He lets his fellow Slytherins flow around him – gives Blaise and Theo a tense smile as they pass him – and only when they’re alone does he approach. He sits next to Longbottom and doesn’t say a word.
Moody is good. He’s a damn sight better already than any of their other Defence teachers have been, but that doesn’t mean that the lessons he teaches don’t hurt.
“My parents are in St Mungos,” Longbottom says after a moment. “They were tortured by Death Eaters. They… I don’t talk about them. I’m proud of them, but I… I don’t want everyone to find out.” He glances at Harry. He’s not crying, but his dark eyes are wet.
Harry nods. He knows the story. He’s heard far, far more than he could ever have wanted to know about Voldemort and his Death Eaters since his Sorting. A Potter in Slytherin – older students from the Darker families told him horror stories in his first year. Whether they were hoping he would leave the school or were after some kind of revenge, he still doesn’t know. But he knows about the Longbottoms. He also knows what it’s like to have the whole world know your story.
“It’s still,” he begins, and stops. He licks his lips. He tries again, but the words don’t come.
He remembers his parents’ deaths. Even as a child, locked in the Dursleys’ boot cupboard, he could remember green light and high-pitched laughter. The Dementors clarified those memories for him, and he still wakes up with his heart in his throat and his mother’s pleading ringing in his ears. Why had Voldemort offered to let her go? She was just a Mudblood… But it’s different having seen it in person – that flash of green light and the spider curling up on itself, dropping to the desk in an instant, skidding from the force of the spell.
A spider twitching and shuddering under indescribable pain.
It’s different when you see it in person.
He reaches out. He doesn’t know Longbottom very well, but Longbottom is one of the few Gryffindors who have never acted like his Sorting offended them. He’s a decent sort. He’s quiet and kind and lonely, and he clutches at Harry’s hand like it’s a lifeline. Harry curls against him, resting his head on Longbottom’s shoulder. He smells nice – like the greenhouses, actually; green and growing things; life. After a moment, he feels Longbottom shift and weight on his scalp as Longbottom leans against him too.
“Yeah,” Longbottom says, his voice little more than a whisper. “It is.”
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G
Genre: Angst/Hurt-comfort
Pairing: Harry Potter/Neville Longbottom - preslash
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Professor Moody is possibly the best Defence teacher they've had, but that doesn't mean his lessons don't hurt.
Author's Notes: This was written for this year's
rarepair_shorts Wishlist event, for penumbria_fics, and it's based off her requests for 'Slytherin!Harry' and 'Angst!Harry'.Longbottom is sitting on the stairs, slumped against the wall. The rest of the Gryffindors are vanishing downwards, laughing and chattering excitedly. Harry hesitates. He lets his fellow Slytherins flow around him – gives Blaise and Theo a tense smile as they pass him – and only when they’re alone does he approach. He sits next to Longbottom and doesn’t say a word.
Moody is good. He’s a damn sight better already than any of their other Defence teachers have been, but that doesn’t mean that the lessons he teaches don’t hurt.
“My parents are in St Mungos,” Longbottom says after a moment. “They were tortured by Death Eaters. They… I don’t talk about them. I’m proud of them, but I… I don’t want everyone to find out.” He glances at Harry. He’s not crying, but his dark eyes are wet.
Harry nods. He knows the story. He’s heard far, far more than he could ever have wanted to know about Voldemort and his Death Eaters since his Sorting. A Potter in Slytherin – older students from the Darker families told him horror stories in his first year. Whether they were hoping he would leave the school or were after some kind of revenge, he still doesn’t know. But he knows about the Longbottoms. He also knows what it’s like to have the whole world know your story.
“It’s still,” he begins, and stops. He licks his lips. He tries again, but the words don’t come.
He remembers his parents’ deaths. Even as a child, locked in the Dursleys’ boot cupboard, he could remember green light and high-pitched laughter. The Dementors clarified those memories for him, and he still wakes up with his heart in his throat and his mother’s pleading ringing in his ears. Why had Voldemort offered to let her go? She was just a Mudblood… But it’s different having seen it in person – that flash of green light and the spider curling up on itself, dropping to the desk in an instant, skidding from the force of the spell.
A spider twitching and shuddering under indescribable pain.
It’s different when you see it in person.
He reaches out. He doesn’t know Longbottom very well, but Longbottom is one of the few Gryffindors who have never acted like his Sorting offended them. He’s a decent sort. He’s quiet and kind and lonely, and he clutches at Harry’s hand like it’s a lifeline. Harry curls against him, resting his head on Longbottom’s shoulder. He smells nice – like the greenhouses, actually; green and growing things; life. After a moment, he feels Longbottom shift and weight on his scalp as Longbottom leans against him too.
“Yeah,” Longbottom says, his voice little more than a whisper. “It is.”
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Date: 2016-08-02 04:29 pm (UTC)From:Thanks Evandar!
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Date: 2016-08-03 08:27 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2016-08-03 02:47 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2016-08-03 08:26 pm (UTC)From: