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bronze_ribbons) wrote2008-06-07 10:06 am
bronze_ribbons) wrote2008-06-07 10:06 am
three ficlettinos
100 words for Nineveh-uk, who wanted something about Cherubino and women:
Snape and Salieri. PG. 200 words. Triggered indirectly by Nineveh_uk's prompt (because of the Mozart) and a![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
westernredcedar comment (because it got me mulling over the Snape-tropes I tend to revisit...):
Teddy and Bunter. 369-ish words (a prequel to this):
Cherubino adored the notion of confidential relations with women, but he was capable of neither secrecy or fidelity. Barbarina cheerfully took to calling him her "wicked darling rabbit," in light of how often he came running home with the stains of somebody else's garden upon his jacket and the juices of someone else's wife still on his lips and fingers. In fact, Barbarina savoured her tastes of Cherubino's thievery, and never more so than when he obliged her by dressing up in her underthings: he was a delectable-enough girl, especially when she couldn't steal away to her own illicit feasts.
Snape and Salieri. PG. 200 words. Triggered indirectly by Nineveh_uk's prompt (because of the Mozart) and a
westernredcedar comment (because it got me mulling over the Snape-tropes I tend to revisit...):
When Snape regains consciousness, he's still on a floor, but it's covered in an expensive carpet, and the exceedingly low ceiling is painted a celestial blue. His mind foggy with an unknown opiate, it takes him another minute to realise that the ceiling is actually the underside of a painted fortepiano, and that the music reverberating through the room corresponds to a familiar Muggle melody.
When the piece ends, a man crouches down to his level. "Still comfortable? You seemed to feel more at ease there than on the daybed."
Snape croaks out, "What did you do--"
He doesn't manage "to end up with me?" but the man doesn't misunderstand. An elegant hand touches the ruffles of lace swathing his throat. "I couldn't accept that I wasn't chosen. And I murdered the one who was."
I might as well have, Snape thought grimly.
He studied the man's clothing. His fingertips tell him his own garb is equally fancy. He said, "This is how Heaven rewards murderers?"
The man's eyes are bitter. "This is how Heaven rewards mediocrities." He seats himself back at the piano.
As the strains of another Mozart sonata wash over him, Snape decides that Salieri is wrong.
Teddy and Bunter. 369-ish words (a prequel to this):
Teddy is not proud of how he broke off his engagement with Victoire. He'd been cowardly -- like his father -- and clumsy -- like his mother-- and the only Weasley still speaking to him is Aunt Ginny, who had insisted all along that he could do better than a daughter of Phlegm. Stopping by his godfather's, Uncle Ron (not speaking to him, but speaking loud enough for him to hear) says, "At least he got himself un-engaged before getting her pregnant. He's one up on old Remus there--" and while Teddy had already known his parents had gotten married in an indecent hurry -- he'd heard all their flaws enumerated at length throughout his childhood -- it still hurts that Uncle Ron wants to hurt him that much. It hurts that there are now good reasons for people to want to hurt him, as opposed to the relatives who hadn't forgiven him for existing and the classmates who'd taunted him with his parents' histories simply because they could. It hurts that the whole sad mess could have been avoided: there had been an abundance of signs that the relationship was Not a Good Idea from the very beginning, but he had wanted so badly to be adored that he'd refused to pay attention to them. Not until he could no longer ignore the sensation of feeling buried alive.
His only consolation is that the mess has propelled him into becoming a detective. Years later, it will strike him as an obvious choice: his mother had been an Auror, and his father had been a Marauder. Insatiable curiosity is in his blood, and so is an infinite capacity to attract trouble. It is these things that will lead him to read the chronicles of Lord Peter Wimsey, to deduce that Mervyn Bunter had retired to the Wizarding World, and to engineer their wholly non-coincidental encounter at Demetria Greengrass's salon. When he and Bunter finally meet, Teddy will have a much better idea of his place in the world, as well as what he is willing to accept from other people. He won't have stopped running away from himself, but he'll at least comprehend what Bunter can offer, and he'll recognise that he needs it.
For now, though, he is simply heartsick. He becomes a detective because he's vowed he will never again be caught ignoring obvious clues.
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These are lovely and I'm glad I had some small part in inspiring one! *hug*
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Exactly. As much and as frequently as I enjoy reading and writing variations of Severus Snape, Super-Spy, the guy's whole life is lived in the shadows and/or service of people more gifted, lucky, and/or personable than he ... and I still haven't sorted out how I feel about how it plays out in canon. On the one hand, life is bloody unfair like that. (Hell, I've been wrestling with a massive case of Clue Envy myself - a/k/a "Why didn't I figure this shit out twenty years ago like everyone else in the universe?") On the other hand, it's definitely one of the reasons why "All is well" sends me into spasms of inordinate rage.
(SO much icon love.)
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(Anonymous) 2008-06-10 06:10 am (UTC)(link)Nineveh_uk
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