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fandomweekly2016-02-20 12:31 am
nehelenia) wrote in fandomweekly2016-02-20 12:31 am
Entry tags:
[#003] Worse. (Harry Potter)
Theme Prompt: Domestic Bliss
Title: Worse.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating/Warnings: Sadness, implied impending torture.
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 553
Summary: A moment of bliss near the very end.
The War Is Over, read the newspaper. It had been the same headline for a couple of weeks now, but then again, these were big news. The pictures beneath it moved, one showing sparks shooting into the air from raised wands, and next to it another, this one showing witches and wizards embracing.
"The war is nearly over," corrected the man holding the paper, but grim as his words were, he said them with a smile. There was plenty of work left to do, as far as they were concerned, but with He Who Must Not Be Named gone for however long - for he didn't believe in forever - well, the very worst of it all was over.
His wife returned the smile, and their eyes met. Neither of them had truly felt like celebrating, not with the price their side had paid in blood. Still, it stood unspoken between them: their wounds would heal. The shock would wear off, the memories would fade, the losses would feel less and less painful with each passing day. They had each other, they had this happy little family, and a future, he imagined, filled with love, and light, and, once the remaining Death Eaters had been caught, with safety. A few more weeks of hard work, and then their lives would change. They would get more time to themselves, more time to spend with their son - something his mother repeatedly pointed out as the greatest blessing of it all. He chuckled at the thought.
"What's it, dear?"
Frank grinned, a full-fledged, genuine grin. "I was thinking about mother. You know how she complains about watching Neville while we are working," even in his glee, he could see that his wife would be all too overjoyed to say a few things about that. "But today, when I came home, she swore up and down that he had said grandma."
Alice joined into his laughter. "She always pretends not to --"
Abrupt silence.
She didn't have to ask whether he heard the noise, he had already drawn his wand and stood up, soundlessly. They were as accustomed to working together that it happened seamlessly and without a need for words - Neville was upstairs, and if this wasn't a false alarm, he was... He wasn't safe, no one was, but he was asleep, and if this was the worst, almost the worst that could happen, no one would notice him. Unless they came looking. He found himself near-paralysed, but Alice raised raised her wand, and cast a soundproof barrier, so no noise could wake their boy, in the event. He wished his silent look could convey just how much he loved her, and unbeknownst to him, as she looked him into the eye, she wished the same.
They stood in absolute silence, waiting, agonising. There was nothing. He exhaled, having not even realised that he had held his breath --
The kitchen door flew open.
The barrier would hold until morning, when they would be found. Saved, even. Their attackers would be caught, and none of them would see the light of day again for more than a decade. Neville would wake only when his grandmother took him home with her. It would take him years to understand.
Frank and Alice Longbottom would never understand any of it at all.
Title: Worse.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating/Warnings: Sadness, implied impending torture.
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 553
Summary: A moment of bliss near the very end.
The War Is Over, read the newspaper. It had been the same headline for a couple of weeks now, but then again, these were big news. The pictures beneath it moved, one showing sparks shooting into the air from raised wands, and next to it another, this one showing witches and wizards embracing.
"The war is nearly over," corrected the man holding the paper, but grim as his words were, he said them with a smile. There was plenty of work left to do, as far as they were concerned, but with He Who Must Not Be Named gone for however long - for he didn't believe in forever - well, the very worst of it all was over.
His wife returned the smile, and their eyes met. Neither of them had truly felt like celebrating, not with the price their side had paid in blood. Still, it stood unspoken between them: their wounds would heal. The shock would wear off, the memories would fade, the losses would feel less and less painful with each passing day. They had each other, they had this happy little family, and a future, he imagined, filled with love, and light, and, once the remaining Death Eaters had been caught, with safety. A few more weeks of hard work, and then their lives would change. They would get more time to themselves, more time to spend with their son - something his mother repeatedly pointed out as the greatest blessing of it all. He chuckled at the thought.
"What's it, dear?"
Frank grinned, a full-fledged, genuine grin. "I was thinking about mother. You know how she complains about watching Neville while we are working," even in his glee, he could see that his wife would be all too overjoyed to say a few things about that. "But today, when I came home, she swore up and down that he had said grandma."
Alice joined into his laughter. "She always pretends not to --"
Abrupt silence.
She didn't have to ask whether he heard the noise, he had already drawn his wand and stood up, soundlessly. They were as accustomed to working together that it happened seamlessly and without a need for words - Neville was upstairs, and if this wasn't a false alarm, he was... He wasn't safe, no one was, but he was asleep, and if this was the worst, almost the worst that could happen, no one would notice him. Unless they came looking. He found himself near-paralysed, but Alice raised raised her wand, and cast a soundproof barrier, so no noise could wake their boy, in the event. He wished his silent look could convey just how much he loved her, and unbeknownst to him, as she looked him into the eye, she wished the same.
They stood in absolute silence, waiting, agonising. There was nothing. He exhaled, having not even realised that he had held his breath --
The kitchen door flew open.
The barrier would hold until morning, when they would be found. Saved, even. Their attackers would be caught, and none of them would see the light of day again for more than a decade. Neville would wake only when his grandmother took him home with her. It would take him years to understand.
Frank and Alice Longbottom would never understand any of it at all.