[Fic] "Means to an End" -- Harry Potter
Oct. 26th, 2004 09:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
edenfallingQueenie Greengrass is a character never mentioned in the books, just a name in JKR's notebook. I used her as a minor character in "Secrets" and wrote a little ficlet, "Minor Arcana," in which she works on a NEWT level Divination project. This is, I think, a rather different Queenie from the one in "Minor Arcana," but then, that one hadn't been in a war for almost a year. War will do funny things to people.
[ETA: The slightly revised final version is now up on AO3.]
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Means to an End
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Queenie Greengrass had never asked to be in a war. Granted, she wasn't overly fond of Muggle-born students; most of them seemed either unreasonably proud of their impoverished, ignorant heritage, or servile scum, always fawning over the purebloods for favor and position. But she didn't think blood purity was worth a war. Nasty insults, scathing editorials, and political wrangling, certainly, but not a war.
Her family, however, was passionate about the issue, and they'd maneuvered her into joining -- it was that or be disowned, tortured, and Obliviated.
She was fortunate enough to be only a minor member of the Dark Lord's army. This meant, of course, that she was flung into the front lines of battles to soak up enemy curses and give the officers clear shots, but it kept her out of the Dark Lord's eye. The foot soldiers were almost never graced with his presence, and therefore escaped most of his mad whims, paranoia, and gleeful lust for torture.
The Dark Lord was a madman. Everyone knew it, even those who refused to acknowledge that fact even in the privacy of their own minds.
Queenie made a point of never lying to herself, and she made an even more important point of survival. Madmen and wars were not conducive to an extended life expectancy. She wanted out. And what Queenie wanted, she usually got. She was, after all, a Slytherin.
Turning traitor was foolish, in her opinion, since she suspected she'd only be sent back as a spy. She had as little interest in Dumbledore and Potter's side of the war as she had in her own, and she wasn't at all certain which side would eventually win. It was safer to desert, hide, and wash her hands of the whole business.
Queenie began requesting guard duty over Muggle-born prisoners of war and Muggles captured for the Dark Lord's entertainment. In return for better rations and occasional exercise privileges, she subtly pumped them for information on the Muggle world. It was astonishing how much people would say to the only non-hostile presence among an army who considered them, and treated them, as little more than performing animals. Queenie considered this abominably shortsighted on her superiors' part; Muggles and Muggle-born wizards were still human, after all. A few were even people she'd consider associating with in other circumstances.
She did report the few scraps of war intelligence she discovered, and she never attempted to free the prisoners; she had to keep up appearances until her plans were ready.
Finally the day arrived. The Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix attacked one of the Dark Lord's strongholds, and Queenie's squad was sent to aid the defenders. She gauged her moment, stepped into the path of a Reductor spell, and Apparated under cover of the explosion and shower of debris.
Nobody, she was certain, would bother to investigate. She had presumably died in service to the cause, which would satisfy her parents and her squad leader, and to everyone else she was simply an expendable body.
After a quick series of Apparition jumps, a change of clothes, several loops through the London Underground, a haircut, and a cab ride, Queenie looked around Heathrow airport, fingering her magically forged passport and her set of one-way tickets to New Zealand. She could put up with the Muggle world if she had to, at least until the war blew over. If the Order won, there was always the Imperius defense, and if the Dark Lord succeeded, she could claim amnesia from the battle and a backfired Apparition attempt.
Desertion was dishonorable, according to both sides. Queenie didn't care. Survival was more important than something as vague as honor, and she was, after all, a Slytherin.
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Inspired by the 10/25/04![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15minuteficlets word #78: deserted
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Occasionally it's fun to toss words around in my head and come up with something a little bit sideways.
[ETA: The slightly revised final version is now up on AO3.]
--------------------------------------------
Means to an End
--------------------------------------------
Queenie Greengrass had never asked to be in a war. Granted, she wasn't overly fond of Muggle-born students; most of them seemed either unreasonably proud of their impoverished, ignorant heritage, or servile scum, always fawning over the purebloods for favor and position. But she didn't think blood purity was worth a war. Nasty insults, scathing editorials, and political wrangling, certainly, but not a war.
Her family, however, was passionate about the issue, and they'd maneuvered her into joining -- it was that or be disowned, tortured, and Obliviated.
She was fortunate enough to be only a minor member of the Dark Lord's army. This meant, of course, that she was flung into the front lines of battles to soak up enemy curses and give the officers clear shots, but it kept her out of the Dark Lord's eye. The foot soldiers were almost never graced with his presence, and therefore escaped most of his mad whims, paranoia, and gleeful lust for torture.
The Dark Lord was a madman. Everyone knew it, even those who refused to acknowledge that fact even in the privacy of their own minds.
Queenie made a point of never lying to herself, and she made an even more important point of survival. Madmen and wars were not conducive to an extended life expectancy. She wanted out. And what Queenie wanted, she usually got. She was, after all, a Slytherin.
Turning traitor was foolish, in her opinion, since she suspected she'd only be sent back as a spy. She had as little interest in Dumbledore and Potter's side of the war as she had in her own, and she wasn't at all certain which side would eventually win. It was safer to desert, hide, and wash her hands of the whole business.
Queenie began requesting guard duty over Muggle-born prisoners of war and Muggles captured for the Dark Lord's entertainment. In return for better rations and occasional exercise privileges, she subtly pumped them for information on the Muggle world. It was astonishing how much people would say to the only non-hostile presence among an army who considered them, and treated them, as little more than performing animals. Queenie considered this abominably shortsighted on her superiors' part; Muggles and Muggle-born wizards were still human, after all. A few were even people she'd consider associating with in other circumstances.
She did report the few scraps of war intelligence she discovered, and she never attempted to free the prisoners; she had to keep up appearances until her plans were ready.
Finally the day arrived. The Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix attacked one of the Dark Lord's strongholds, and Queenie's squad was sent to aid the defenders. She gauged her moment, stepped into the path of a Reductor spell, and Apparated under cover of the explosion and shower of debris.
Nobody, she was certain, would bother to investigate. She had presumably died in service to the cause, which would satisfy her parents and her squad leader, and to everyone else she was simply an expendable body.
After a quick series of Apparition jumps, a change of clothes, several loops through the London Underground, a haircut, and a cab ride, Queenie looked around Heathrow airport, fingering her magically forged passport and her set of one-way tickets to New Zealand. She could put up with the Muggle world if she had to, at least until the war blew over. If the Order won, there was always the Imperius defense, and if the Dark Lord succeeded, she could claim amnesia from the battle and a backfired Apparition attempt.
Desertion was dishonorable, according to both sides. Queenie didn't care. Survival was more important than something as vague as honor, and she was, after all, a Slytherin.
--------------------------------------------
Inspired by the 10/25/04
15minuteficlets word #78: deserted--------------------------------------------
Occasionally it's fun to toss words around in my head and come up with something a little bit sideways.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-10 06:58 am (UTC)this was another excelent characterisation. this is oen girl who shows the slytheirn qualiteis a real qualities adn not asmuddled-up negative characteristics liek some of the others do.
and you also teach me how t o pal ywith the word prompts more before startign on soemtihng. i wrote aficlet for this word t oo but i'd leti t stay on an mepty hall and feelign lonely there. ah well...
I liekd this and i love yoru writing.