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tamingthemuseTitle: The Moment It All Began
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: There, at a critical turning point, they found their choices endless.
The Moment It All Began
This was the second that it changed, the crucible that burned away all the dross and left the purest of motive as they stood there, eye to eye on the battlefield, their wands at the ready and a spell on their lips.
Hermione started to cast her spell and held her tongue. Malfoy did the same. They stared into each other’s eyes, held and measured each other’s soul against the weight of a feather in the great scale of Ma’at. They were, in that singular moment, of one mind, a deed that had never taken place during school or anytime in their history.
It was more than solipsistic, more than esoteric in its nature. They looked at each other over the tips of their wands and saw the branching of the paths in each other’s eyes and how it could have changed over a thousand different ways in a double dozen different endings to this moment.
She saw her death. He saw his death. She watched them turn from each other, recognizing a worthy opponent that could not be beaten. He watched her as she cackled with battle-madness down on his sightless eyes as she stood over him in the rain and wind. She saw his smug look as she bled her dirty blood across the polished tips of his shoes and turned to leave.
She saw and leaped to another logical branch in their schism, another possibility. She saw them fighting side by side, their hands joined and worried looks passing between them when the other wasn’t looking. He saw her with his heart in her hands as she studied his face, flushed and sated with afterglow in flickering firelight. She saw more than she should have and less that she would have liked in the bubble of silence that had fallen over them and blocked the noise of the battle around them. He saw less than he wanted but more than he needed, dropping his wand arm to his side.
“I don’t want to kill you, Granger. I don’t want…I don’t want to hurt you in any way.”
She dropped her wand as well, a defeated look crossing her face. “Me either, Malfoy. It’s too hard. Even with all that’s happened in the last six years, I can’t muster up enough of anything right now to do you any harm.”
He dropped to the ground, too tired to stand any longer. His magic was exhausted and he felt like he could sleep for a year. In a lightning-quick movement he reached up and snagged Granger's sleeve, pulling her down on the ground beside him. The muddy water from the runoff was soaking into his trousers and cloak and he couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment.
“You saved me.” Her voice was atonal and echoed in his ears.
“Yeah, well, you’re my Mudblood. If anyone is going to have the pleasure of closing that never-ending soliloquy it will be me, not someone else.”
She sighed, somehow comforted by the status quo that remained between them. “What happened a minute ago? I was ready to send you to Hell and then—I don’t remember.”
He could taste her lie on his own mouth. “I don’t know,” he said, mingling his own flavor with hers. “I saw something. Something—and I just kept thinking that if things were different—”
“—maybe we wouldn’t be trying to kill one another? Yeah, me too.”
He looked down at her bent head, the large amount of hair hiding her face from him more effectively than the darkness. “What do you think that it was?” he said, exposing himself more in this one sentence than he had in the last six years.
“There’s a Muggle philosopher named Nietzsche that had a theory. He believed that man was his own greatest enemy. ‘Of all evil I deem you capable: therefore I want the good from you.’ He was a nihilist and insane but some of what he said made good sense, if you can imagine.”
“So we have found our worst enemy—not in each other, but inside ourselves. Is that what you’re saying?”
She looked up at him, startled out of her fugue by his insight. “Simple, but yes. I was standing there looking at you and ready to blast you from the earth but when it came down to flipping the pence, I couldn’t do it. You aren’t my enemy any more than I am yours. If anything, we could have had an entirely different relationship had any one variable changed over the course of our school years.”
Satin slithered over pale flesh in his mind and he shook his head to drive the vision from his inner eye. “I’m too knackered to discuss the might-have-beens with you, Granger. Another time, maybe?”
To his surprise and hers as well, she nodded. “We’ll meet one day and talk about this over tea.”
“I’m going to get out of here, Granger. I don’t want to deal with the same shite with everyone here. Try not to die.”
He stood and reached out his hand, snatching her to her feet. He could see her building her shell, gathering her strength before heading out amidst the carnage.
She started to step away from him and he grabbed her elbow. “Don’t die out there, Granger. Some of the alternatives were—interesting.”
“I won’t die, Malfoy. Make sure that you don’t, either.” With a shake of her head she bounded off to his right, the darkness and smoke swallowing her and swathing her in shadows.
With a shake of his head, he looked around at the splintered groups, spells shooting from wands as screams echoed in the night. It wasn’t a grand epiphany, no great turning point that had changed his mind about using his wand. It was the possibilities, the small differences in what might have been that made him take pause.
They might be interesting to explore.
With a swirl of his cloak, he Apparated away.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: There, at a critical turning point, they found their choices endless.
The Moment It All Began
This was the second that it changed, the crucible that burned away all the dross and left the purest of motive as they stood there, eye to eye on the battlefield, their wands at the ready and a spell on their lips.
Hermione started to cast her spell and held her tongue. Malfoy did the same. They stared into each other’s eyes, held and measured each other’s soul against the weight of a feather in the great scale of Ma’at. They were, in that singular moment, of one mind, a deed that had never taken place during school or anytime in their history.
It was more than solipsistic, more than esoteric in its nature. They looked at each other over the tips of their wands and saw the branching of the paths in each other’s eyes and how it could have changed over a thousand different ways in a double dozen different endings to this moment.
She saw her death. He saw his death. She watched them turn from each other, recognizing a worthy opponent that could not be beaten. He watched her as she cackled with battle-madness down on his sightless eyes as she stood over him in the rain and wind. She saw his smug look as she bled her dirty blood across the polished tips of his shoes and turned to leave.
She saw and leaped to another logical branch in their schism, another possibility. She saw them fighting side by side, their hands joined and worried looks passing between them when the other wasn’t looking. He saw her with his heart in her hands as she studied his face, flushed and sated with afterglow in flickering firelight. She saw more than she should have and less that she would have liked in the bubble of silence that had fallen over them and blocked the noise of the battle around them. He saw less than he wanted but more than he needed, dropping his wand arm to his side.
“I don’t want to kill you, Granger. I don’t want…I don’t want to hurt you in any way.”
She dropped her wand as well, a defeated look crossing her face. “Me either, Malfoy. It’s too hard. Even with all that’s happened in the last six years, I can’t muster up enough of anything right now to do you any harm.”
He dropped to the ground, too tired to stand any longer. His magic was exhausted and he felt like he could sleep for a year. In a lightning-quick movement he reached up and snagged Granger's sleeve, pulling her down on the ground beside him. The muddy water from the runoff was soaking into his trousers and cloak and he couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment.
“You saved me.” Her voice was atonal and echoed in his ears.
“Yeah, well, you’re my Mudblood. If anyone is going to have the pleasure of closing that never-ending soliloquy it will be me, not someone else.”
She sighed, somehow comforted by the status quo that remained between them. “What happened a minute ago? I was ready to send you to Hell and then—I don’t remember.”
He could taste her lie on his own mouth. “I don’t know,” he said, mingling his own flavor with hers. “I saw something. Something—and I just kept thinking that if things were different—”
“—maybe we wouldn’t be trying to kill one another? Yeah, me too.”
He looked down at her bent head, the large amount of hair hiding her face from him more effectively than the darkness. “What do you think that it was?” he said, exposing himself more in this one sentence than he had in the last six years.
“There’s a Muggle philosopher named Nietzsche that had a theory. He believed that man was his own greatest enemy. ‘Of all evil I deem you capable: therefore I want the good from you.’ He was a nihilist and insane but some of what he said made good sense, if you can imagine.”
“So we have found our worst enemy—not in each other, but inside ourselves. Is that what you’re saying?”
She looked up at him, startled out of her fugue by his insight. “Simple, but yes. I was standing there looking at you and ready to blast you from the earth but when it came down to flipping the pence, I couldn’t do it. You aren’t my enemy any more than I am yours. If anything, we could have had an entirely different relationship had any one variable changed over the course of our school years.”
Satin slithered over pale flesh in his mind and he shook his head to drive the vision from his inner eye. “I’m too knackered to discuss the might-have-beens with you, Granger. Another time, maybe?”
To his surprise and hers as well, she nodded. “We’ll meet one day and talk about this over tea.”
“I’m going to get out of here, Granger. I don’t want to deal with the same shite with everyone here. Try not to die.”
He stood and reached out his hand, snatching her to her feet. He could see her building her shell, gathering her strength before heading out amidst the carnage.
She started to step away from him and he grabbed her elbow. “Don’t die out there, Granger. Some of the alternatives were—interesting.”
“I won’t die, Malfoy. Make sure that you don’t, either.” With a shake of her head she bounded off to his right, the darkness and smoke swallowing her and swathing her in shadows.
With a shake of his head, he looked around at the splintered groups, spells shooting from wands as screams echoed in the night. It wasn’t a grand epiphany, no great turning point that had changed his mind about using his wand. It was the possibilities, the small differences in what might have been that made him take pause.
They might be interesting to explore.
With a swirl of his cloak, he Apparated away.
