Penny Potter may be the twin of Harry Potter but she does not share his proclivity for a hatred of the Potions Master, Severus Snape. Likewise, Snape finds, despite his better efforts that Penny has become dangerously intertwined in his life. Given...
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WARNING: Mentions of suicidal thoughts
Yay, update time 💜 I really didn't want to leave ya'll hanging on the horrible last chapter. :( And if you didn't know, the chapter name should tell you, THIS IS A SWEET, LOVELY, MUSHY CHAPTER. So I hope you and Penny all forgive me! ❤️
And yes, WE FINALLY MADE IT TO CHRISTMAS. FML i actually thought I was going to be at this Christmas chapter ON CHRISTMAS but then I went and wrote too much, ahah! Alright, I'm going to bed, much love from me to you xoxo
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Her flowers crushed beside her, making her nose itch, Penny flicked open the pocket knife in her hand, her finger sliding along the length of the blade. After informing Penny he very much approved of her change in prospects and surname, Draco had left her, taking a moment to advise her to keep this present from Yaxley's prying eyes. So she'd shoved it into her flowers and opened it in the confines of her cupboard, finding the peculiar pocket knife within.
Draco hadn't told her what the item was or how to use it, and several of the attachments were quite peculiar to her, but that mattered little, because when she'd popped it open and her tired eyes had caught the sheen of the blade, something in her changed—purpose replaced her helplessness. The need for vengeance consumed Penny's heart, and she began imagining what it would feel like to push the blade through the skin on Yaxley's neck, to hear his yells, see his fear. She would need to choose her moment carefully, but there was no doubt, no inkling of reservation in her heart—she would not hesitate.
She wasn't sure if that should worry her or if it was a good sign. Wasn't it natural, this hatred? This loathing, this need to make him pay? After all he'd put her through, what he would continue to do, was it not instinct, and self preservation, her desire to resist him, make him pay? If she just rolled over, let him do as he pleased, knowing full well he would never be judged for his crimes by the powers at be, was that not giving up on herself? What Penny had endured, what she was subjected to, none of it fell into the parameters of what any average person had or would ever experience, so why should she judge herself by a moral compass that had never respected her? If stabbing Yaxley made Penny irredeemable, then so be it, it was better than the alternative.
Though Penny was glad that the holiday seemed to have emptied the Department of Mysteries so her usual torture session did not happen and she was left alone in the solitude of her cupboard with just Fleamont for company, Penny found the lack of her routine torture left her brain too much time to wander. She'd slept as much as she could, but it was hard in the cramped space which forced her into a snug sitting position where she could not so much as stretch her legs all the way.
Having grown up with the Dursleys, Penny was accustomed to being locked up for weeks at a time and denied meals in the cupboard under the stairs she was forced to share with Harry for the first 11 years of her life. But at least at the Dursley's she had Harry who kept her sane. Recalling how they would make up stories and dream of one day escaping the Dursley's filled Penny with a heavy sadness.
