Fic: Poison Heart [Harry Potter; Harry/Hermione]
Title: Poison Heart
Author: rath_robin_rye (aFigureOfSpeech)
Word Count: 401
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Pairing: horcrux!Harry/horcrux!Hermione
Rating: T
Prompt: by likeserendipity: horcrux!harry/horcrux!hermione, you have ghosts in your lungs; i taste them when we kiss
Summary: They are still very very real. Horcrux!Harry/horcrux!Hermione (and the things between them)
Note: Written for the Harry Potter Non-Canon Comment Ficathon, hosted by anythingbutgrey. You can also read it here. This prompt kind of ate away at my brain, which is funny because I haven't properly written anything in ages and never for the HP fandom at all. So, enjoy. :)
--
He is rage. He is pain. He is everything that turns people against one another. He is everything that ends all hope. He is everything that kills.
She is fear. She is hate. She is everything that one wishes to hide from. She is everything that one will never escape. She is everything that destroys.
(They emerge newly born from the darkness with their fingers entwined.)
Ronald Weasley, small and weak and oh so frightened, cowers on the ground before them. They have seen his heart and they know all that dwells there-all the hopes and dreams and furies and fears, buried deep (but not deep enough).
They show him what he dreads most.
Harry Potter loves Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger loves Harry Potter. They are the whole world, and there is no room for someone lesser, someone forgotten, someone unwanted.
A hindrance.
A burden.
A nothing.
She deserves the best. He is the best. They could hardly be anything else.
(They are only what the fickle Fates have made them.)
Denial expels from the mouth of their helpless spectator-denial, always denial, of what stands so clearly before him. The Other Harry says, it’s a lie. Don’t listen. It isn’t the truth.
They are still very very real.
There is doubt, so much doubt, in Ronald Weasley’s eyes (in his mind, in his heart).
He sees it.
He knows it.
He tastes it.
Reality tastes like the echoes of dead dreams and the dust of broken hearts. He breathes in everything that she is, and she has never been more brilliant. Like fire she consumes his entire being, and in return he devours her whole. He slides gladly along that sweet razor’s edge, falling towards eternity with fervent, intoxicating abandon.
They are everything. She is everything.
(He could stay there forever, he thinks.)
But Ronald Weasley (the hindrance, the burden, the nothing) thrusts that bright, wicked sword between them-always coming between them, always-straight through their stone heart like a burning curse.
It is the end, but for an instant his eyes cut away to the Other Harry (no one else notices a thing). Just as his heart breaks and they are torn apart, a smile stretches his lips against hers, like a secret whispered in deep dark places.
They are still the truth, after all.
(They’d slipped and slid and slithered through more than one heart these past weeks.)
Author: rath_robin_rye (aFigureOfSpeech)
Word Count: 401
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Pairing: horcrux!Harry/horcrux!Hermione
Rating: T
Prompt: by likeserendipity: horcrux!harry/horcrux!hermione, you have ghosts in your lungs; i taste them when we kiss
Summary: They are still very very real. Horcrux!Harry/horcrux!Hermione (and the things between them)
Note: Written for the Harry Potter Non-Canon Comment Ficathon, hosted by anythingbutgrey. You can also read it here. This prompt kind of ate away at my brain, which is funny because I haven't properly written anything in ages and never for the HP fandom at all. So, enjoy. :)
--
He is rage. He is pain. He is everything that turns people against one another. He is everything that ends all hope. He is everything that kills.
She is fear. She is hate. She is everything that one wishes to hide from. She is everything that one will never escape. She is everything that destroys.
(They emerge newly born from the darkness with their fingers entwined.)
Ronald Weasley, small and weak and oh so frightened, cowers on the ground before them. They have seen his heart and they know all that dwells there-all the hopes and dreams and furies and fears, buried deep (but not deep enough).
They show him what he dreads most.
Harry Potter loves Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger loves Harry Potter. They are the whole world, and there is no room for someone lesser, someone forgotten, someone unwanted.
A hindrance.
A burden.
A nothing.
She deserves the best. He is the best. They could hardly be anything else.
(They are only what the fickle Fates have made them.)
Denial expels from the mouth of their helpless spectator-denial, always denial, of what stands so clearly before him. The Other Harry says, it’s a lie. Don’t listen. It isn’t the truth.
They are still very very real.
There is doubt, so much doubt, in Ronald Weasley’s eyes (in his mind, in his heart).
He sees it.
He knows it.
He tastes it.
Reality tastes like the echoes of dead dreams and the dust of broken hearts. He breathes in everything that she is, and she has never been more brilliant. Like fire she consumes his entire being, and in return he devours her whole. He slides gladly along that sweet razor’s edge, falling towards eternity with fervent, intoxicating abandon.
They are everything. She is everything.
(He could stay there forever, he thinks.)
But Ronald Weasley (the hindrance, the burden, the nothing) thrusts that bright, wicked sword between them-always coming between them, always-straight through their stone heart like a burning curse.
It is the end, but for an instant his eyes cut away to the Other Harry (no one else notices a thing). Just as his heart breaks and they are torn apart, a smile stretches his lips against hers, like a secret whispered in deep dark places.
They are still the truth, after all.
(They’d slipped and slid and slithered through more than one heart these past weeks.)