[Fic] "Curses" -- Harry Potter
Jun. 27th, 2004 08:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
edenfallingWhat would life be like if you could do no wrong? If everyone always liked you? If everyone thought you were wonderful?
An inadvertent Mary-Sue gives her opinion.
[ETA: The slightly revised final version is now up on AO3!]
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Curses
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My name is Alianora Vandevelde, and everyone loves me.
I hate it.
It wasn't so bad when I was younger, just something that made people a little less likely to punish me or make rude remarks -- something that made adults say "Oh, what a sweet little girl!" a lot -- but after I hit puberty, after I started learning magic, it began to get out of control. My friends started to do things I knew they hated, just because I asked them. And then they started doing them before I asked.
When I asked Suzie why she took me to a Bruce Springsteen concert and even paid for my ticket herself though she didn't know the first thing about Muggle music, she just said, "Oh, I thought you'd like it, Nora! I like to do things you like." And she smiled, and it wasn't Suzie's cheerfully mocking grin; it was a sickly-sweet, earnest expression that had no business being within half a mile of her face.
That was when I started putting things together. My parents stopped noticing if I broke rules or missed my curfew. My friends were practically at the point of worshipping me, and sometimes fighting over whose turn it was to serve me. My teachers gave me perfect grades even if I didn't bother doing any work. People I didn't know smiled at me as I walked by, and inconvenienced themselves to open doors or such-like. Even people I hated -- people who'd hated me right back for years -- started to come up and shyly apologize for not realizing what a wonderful person I was, and ask if I might be willing to be their friend.
I couldn't take it. For the first time, I took shameless advantage of this freakish thing and made my parents move to England so I could let my friends recover. Even better, I could go to a boarding school so my parents would eventually get back to normal while I was away from them. At least, I hoped they would. And Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, was supposed to be one of the most powerful and brilliant wizards in the world; if anyone could help me, he could.
Some of it worked. I owled my old friends, explaining to them why I'd left and asking if they were still willing to write to me. Most of them weren't, but I still keep in touch with Suzie. My parents did get back to normal, at which point we had a long fight over how I'd dragged them off to England instead of trying to get help. We still argue about that sometimes, though they've cut me some slack lately, realizing that a 15-year-old girl can't be expected to always make sensible, logical choices, especially not under stress.
But I wasn't able to keep away from people at Hogwarts. I tried, I really did, but they kept noticing me and trying to be friendly. Even the ones smart enough to realize what was going on and fight against it, like Professor Snape, eventually succumbed. And it had gotten worse. Instead of just liking me, they started to respect me, to look up to me and think I could solve all their problems. When I heard Professor Dumbledore himself telling Harry Potter not to worry, that "the beautiful Miss Vandevelde will surely find a way to win the war without you having to kill Voldemort yourself, despite the prophecy. She has a special gift, you know," I realized I had to get out.
I asked Professor Dumbledore to help me find an isolated place where I could work on a secret plan to defeat Voldemort, and he set me up with a little cottage on this island in the North Sea. After a few weeks, I owled him to apologize, he was much nicer than I deserved, and we worked out a schedule. I do my course work by mail, and once a week he Floos in to bring me supplies and give me practical lessons; separating his visits that much keeps the liking thing from kicking in. I can firetalk to people or call them on the phone, but I can't be around anyone for more than a few hours before their eyes start to glaze, their mouths twist into a sickly-sweet smile, and they start telling me how wonderful and beautiful I am. If I touch them, it takes even less time.
So I live here, alone. I can't visit my friends. I can't hug my parents. I can't ever be loved. But I think it's worth it, just to know that I'll never violate anyone again. I did think, briefly, of staying to help Harry Potter win his war -- I could get Voldemort wrapped around my finger and make him stand still and smile while Harry killed him -- but I can't do that. I just can't. What I do to people is worse than death, worse than anything except the Dementor's Kiss.
And I will not do it to anyone else, ever.
Ever.
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Inspired by the 6/27/04![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15minuteficlets word #61: aggravation
---------------------------------------------
This was a slightly random story, which doesn't actually have that much to do with the original word, come to think of it. I was pondering the effect of Mary-Sues on readers, and then started to think what it would actually be like for the poor girls themselves. Hence this fic.
Sorry about the angst.
An inadvertent Mary-Sue gives her opinion.
[ETA: The slightly revised final version is now up on AO3!]
---------------------------------------------
Curses
---------------------------------------------
My name is Alianora Vandevelde, and everyone loves me.
I hate it.
It wasn't so bad when I was younger, just something that made people a little less likely to punish me or make rude remarks -- something that made adults say "Oh, what a sweet little girl!" a lot -- but after I hit puberty, after I started learning magic, it began to get out of control. My friends started to do things I knew they hated, just because I asked them. And then they started doing them before I asked.
When I asked Suzie why she took me to a Bruce Springsteen concert and even paid for my ticket herself though she didn't know the first thing about Muggle music, she just said, "Oh, I thought you'd like it, Nora! I like to do things you like." And she smiled, and it wasn't Suzie's cheerfully mocking grin; it was a sickly-sweet, earnest expression that had no business being within half a mile of her face.
That was when I started putting things together. My parents stopped noticing if I broke rules or missed my curfew. My friends were practically at the point of worshipping me, and sometimes fighting over whose turn it was to serve me. My teachers gave me perfect grades even if I didn't bother doing any work. People I didn't know smiled at me as I walked by, and inconvenienced themselves to open doors or such-like. Even people I hated -- people who'd hated me right back for years -- started to come up and shyly apologize for not realizing what a wonderful person I was, and ask if I might be willing to be their friend.
I couldn't take it. For the first time, I took shameless advantage of this freakish thing and made my parents move to England so I could let my friends recover. Even better, I could go to a boarding school so my parents would eventually get back to normal while I was away from them. At least, I hoped they would. And Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, was supposed to be one of the most powerful and brilliant wizards in the world; if anyone could help me, he could.
Some of it worked. I owled my old friends, explaining to them why I'd left and asking if they were still willing to write to me. Most of them weren't, but I still keep in touch with Suzie. My parents did get back to normal, at which point we had a long fight over how I'd dragged them off to England instead of trying to get help. We still argue about that sometimes, though they've cut me some slack lately, realizing that a 15-year-old girl can't be expected to always make sensible, logical choices, especially not under stress.
But I wasn't able to keep away from people at Hogwarts. I tried, I really did, but they kept noticing me and trying to be friendly. Even the ones smart enough to realize what was going on and fight against it, like Professor Snape, eventually succumbed. And it had gotten worse. Instead of just liking me, they started to respect me, to look up to me and think I could solve all their problems. When I heard Professor Dumbledore himself telling Harry Potter not to worry, that "the beautiful Miss Vandevelde will surely find a way to win the war without you having to kill Voldemort yourself, despite the prophecy. She has a special gift, you know," I realized I had to get out.
I asked Professor Dumbledore to help me find an isolated place where I could work on a secret plan to defeat Voldemort, and he set me up with a little cottage on this island in the North Sea. After a few weeks, I owled him to apologize, he was much nicer than I deserved, and we worked out a schedule. I do my course work by mail, and once a week he Floos in to bring me supplies and give me practical lessons; separating his visits that much keeps the liking thing from kicking in. I can firetalk to people or call them on the phone, but I can't be around anyone for more than a few hours before their eyes start to glaze, their mouths twist into a sickly-sweet smile, and they start telling me how wonderful and beautiful I am. If I touch them, it takes even less time.
So I live here, alone. I can't visit my friends. I can't hug my parents. I can't ever be loved. But I think it's worth it, just to know that I'll never violate anyone again. I did think, briefly, of staying to help Harry Potter win his war -- I could get Voldemort wrapped around my finger and make him stand still and smile while Harry killed him -- but I can't do that. I just can't. What I do to people is worse than death, worse than anything except the Dementor's Kiss.
And I will not do it to anyone else, ever.
Ever.
---------------------------------------------
Inspired by the 6/27/04
15minuteficlets word #61: aggravation---------------------------------------------
This was a slightly random story, which doesn't actually have that much to do with the original word, come to think of it. I was pondering the effect of Mary-Sues on readers, and then started to think what it would actually be like for the poor girls themselves. Hence this fic.
Sorry about the angst.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-18 10:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-19 02:25 am (UTC)