Challenge #250: Outsider POV [G]
mood: 
hyper
hyperAuthor:
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bonfoiRating: G
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape
Summary: Once, long ago, a Hogwarts letter meant something clean and pure.
Challenge:
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snupin100 ~ Challenge #250: Outsider POVWord Count: 100 x 4
Genre: Alternate Reality; Marauders’ Era – Post-Hogwarts; Post First Voldemort War
Warnings: Established Relationship
A/N: Alternate Reality arc:
| 1 ~ Sorted | 2 ~ Under Observation | 3 ~ Shadows at the Willow | 4 ~ What Rita Missed | 5 ~ The Auror's Call | 6 ~ Angel’s Eyes |
| 7 ~ Reflections | 8 ~ Phoenix Memories | 9 ~ In the Headmaster’s Office | 10 ~ Bedstead | 11 ~ The Robe | 12 ~ Whither Goes the Wand |
| 13 ~ Flying Time | 14 ~ Traitorous Musings | 15 ~ Release and Recognition | 16 ~ Set Free |
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
Waves of magic washed over my parchment body, seeking something that—luckily—wasn’t written upon me. I felt two wands poke and prod at me.
The wizard with the stained fingers unrolled me with a snarl and a glare—I would have rolled back up and tried to tie myself to the owl that brought me if I could have. His fingers pressed together so hard, I soaked up the sweat and knew the anger.
He almost ripped me as he tossed me across a table.
“It’s Harry’s Hogwarts letter.”
Claws leave large holes in me. Sharp teeth do too.
I lay on the table for hours at their mercy. They slid me back and forth, abrading my fibers and making me leave bits behind.
“It’s legitimate.” I could have told Blondie that!
“I don’t trust it, or him.” Ouch! Someone’s wand skidded across me and shredded my corner!
I was rolled up and then folded, the edges so sharp I was as cutting at the voices around me.
I was slid into an inner pocket, someplace dark, hot. The heart under me was beating hard and there was a dew of sweat seeping through the shirt and into me.
Days I was traded back and forth, my edges fuzzed with over-handling and rough abuse. My ink flaked onto blunt fingers and thin ones, too. Even young ones traced the crest on me, but they were snatched away with exhortations to beware.
One week to the day of my delivery, after dousing with potions and several crumplings, I was smoothed out on the table. Two different hands held me down.
They singed my edges! The heathens even burned a hole through me!
After all their tests, the two wizards held me to a fire and then waved a candle flame under me. Never in all my epistolary incarnations have I been so misused!
“Nothing. It’s not a port-key. It’s just a Hogwarts letter.” The voice—husky, rough, it was the blond wizard—stopped the burning.
“I still don’t trust the old man. This…” He tapped me, hard, with chipped nails. “If Harry goes, he’ll be alone and all our magic might not be enough to protect him.”
“We’ll all go.”
Thank you for reading. ~~~
Hee! Great line :D