hp plot bunnies. PG
The plot bunnnies escaped!
The first breath of the day escaped beyond closed eyes. In the frosty winter morning it curled like a puff of exhaled smoke, rolling out like a smokestack from deep in her lungs. White and silver it rolled like waves over the shoulder of a young man, breaking apart and vanishing into nothingness. It was followed by another, and another again, as the young woman slowly awoke and her lungs picked up speed. Her eyes cracked open into slits, barely wide enough to watch the last uncontrolled breath billow over that shoulder and away into the world. She thanked god, or the saints, or the universe at large that another morning had come. She slowly opened her eyes more to take in the rhythmic rise and fall of his ribcage in front of her. He'd moved closer in the night, or maybe it was her who had moved. her fingers flexed, seemingly of their own accord, to brush against the thick shirt he wore to keep him warm, dry, and allow the physical scars of war to heal. She'd invented the shirt, woven the cloth from the hairs of unicorns and creatures most have never seen or heard of, all to protect this man. The savior of humanity.
The only one who kept her human.
A muscle in his shoulder twitched and she noticed her own motions when her hand lept back against her own chest. He stirred but stayed asleep. Another breath, released into the world like the billowing smoke of a fire deep within her, rolling through the space between them, making it seem like a massive rift in the earth, the way she imagined canyons would be. She cherished this moment where she could imagine how it would feel for her heart to let forth its song. That fire deep within her roared until the sound filled her ears with a rumble and a hiss and a pop and crackle. Her arms ached with the fight of holding them away from him. Her skin flashed hot where his foot brushed her leg in sleep. She looked straight into the back of his head and whispered a chain of sweet nothings meant to fall on deaf ears. Closing her eyes agains the world once more she centered herself and felt him shift, rolling over to face her. He sniffled and she froze. He was awake. She could feel his thoughts radiating like an earthquake. His eyes burning into her flesh. She couldnt move. Wordlessly he reached for her and brushed a strand of hair off of her face.
"I love you too" he whispered back and a tear slipped down her face from the embarasment of having been heard. When he pulled her close she shook violently. When he kissed her forehead she sobbed openly. He gathered her close silently, knowing that he'd just blown her world open, and there would be no easy slide into the moment for her. She was so pained over keeping their distance that closing the gap hurt even more. She trusted nothing, especially him, because she believe in him as her savior. Her life was devoted to him and soon he would be lost. The war would end with the ultimate sacrifice of his life and she couldn't live with that. Every one of her fears rolled through her body as she shook. He held her tighter, desperate to be the rock she wanted.
They didnt move for hours. The sun broke through the thinned out patches of the tent, declaring that they hurry into the world. He listened to the woods around them with a silent intensity that terrified most people. His sole purpose was to protect her and they risked so much by staying still so long. He didn't care. She was too fragile to move right now. he cast warming charms over her until they settled into her bones and she slept from exhaustion.
She woke alone in the dark of night. She couldnt see him. She couldnt reach him. She couldnt feel his presence nearby. Panic set in. gasping breaths came forth, producing great belches of steam in the air, but no words would come forth. she clutched her chest afraid to move. she tightened the blankets around her as if they were her shield, wrapping herself tight enough to be laid in a tomb. a match burst to life in the darkness as he scurried to her side. She clung to him, climbing onto his lap like a child when he sat on the edge of the bed. He was cold to the touch but steaming warm underneath. He'd been outside, almost literally moving mountains to keep her safe. He'd created a storn around them, tearing trees from their rooted holds, covering their tent in a dense cave of pine needles and saplings. He carried her to the fire, forcing her to let go and sit. slowly he fed her, helped her drink, treated the deep tears in her skin she'd caused herself lately in the terrors of her sleep. He carefully undressed her, one layer at a time, and bathed her in a tub of warmed water: the only bath they'd had in months. she asked him to get in with her, to keep her safe but he gently refused, never letting go of her completely. he held her hand while he bathed himself in the dirty, chilly remnants of her bath, then carried her back to their mound of blankets on a cot they called a bed. He extinguished the fire and crawled in next to her gathering her into his skin practically. The most brilliant and beautiful girl in the world looked into his eyes for reassurance and found his warm and loving. She slept again.
it was a month before he could move her. Two before she spoke again. and three to the day when he got her to smile. Slowly the color returned to her skin, and the snine to her eyes. He told her stories about herself as if they were fairy tales to put her to sleep at any hour of the day. He told her how beautiful she was, and the unbelievable intelligence she posessed. He told her about how she made his heart beat, and the lengths he would go to to protect her for every single moment he had left. Finally, 8 months after she'd broken to pieces in his hands, shattering like glass, he kissed her. She folded into him like they'd been designed to be connected. He kissed her deeply, slowly, and carefully until they lost their breath. it became a nightly ritual. He'd lean in and kiss her, and she'd return with a few more words for conversation they next day. When his hand accidentally brushed her hip she gasped, but held it there. Then she began inviting him to lay his hand against her at any hour, and they began to learn eachother, carefully mapping out their curves, the points that make the breath catch in their throats, the touches that brought them both alive.
Finally, as spring settled in again and she'd finally gotten most of her speech back, she asked him to bathe her again. He agreed, feeling protective and she wilted slightly under his scrutiny, naked in the warm water. He kissed her temple and told her he'd never look at another woman again with so much beauty right in front of him. She got bolder, asking for this ritual on a daily basis, and finally asked him to take off his shirt one night after he'd inspected every inch of her shirtless chest and back with his lips. He hesitated. She hadn't seen the damage done since the shirt she'd made him had slid over his shoulders. They pulled it off together and she toughed his chest gently, tracing the deep red scars running accross his chest from a run in with werewolves last year, and the light pink lines that Bellatrix's nails has left on his collarbone. She kissed each line, each pockmark, and each freckle lovingly, leaving a healing warmth in her wake. They spent the night exploring again, but this time their clothing slipped away into the night as naturally as anything. He made love to her as the sun rose, telling her everything she'd ever longed to hear. She breathed every steam cloud in that he exhaled into the chilly night air.
Summer brought her back to life. She was herself more than ever before. She laughed as they made meals, a leisure they rarely afforded themselves in such a desperate time. Who can laugh while the world around you suffers so. They conceived a child in the late summer nights, under a blanket of stars. Then he found his nemesis.
Together they climbed the stairs to hogwarts, ready for the last moments together. She stood with her back tall refusing to let her heartbreak be known. She couldnt bear to let him go, but she couldnt let any more die without his saving grace. She kissed him passionately and swore to not interefere, to not risk her own life or their childs to save him, that he had to do what was foretold, and that she'd love him with all of her heart until the end of time. With a final tearstained hand to his cheek she turned and moved away, and he took a deep breath, his last calm look at her.
The unthinkable happened. She was hit moments later, cursed to the ground screaming. His rage boiled over and he leaned down, kissed her limp, bleeding body goodbye and dove headlong into the fray. He destroyed 15 with their own curses. He shattered every piece of glass in the building. He faced his enemy with a passion he'd never felt before. He needed to avenge her death. With a flick of the wrist the world went white as he and Voldemort hit eachother with the same curse. The fates interviened and he glowed. Protected again by a love stronger than any darkness could penetrate he survived the blow of a killing curse. again. he collapsed to the floor without an idea of the world around him. He was alive. She was dead. There was nothing for him. So he slept.
Months passed before he woke.
The first breath of the day escaped beyond closed eyes. In the frosty winter morning it curled like a puff of exhaled smoke, rolling out like a smokestack from deep in her lungs. White and silver it rolled like waves away from him. His eyes cracked open into slivers, catching sight of the last uncontrolled breath dissapating against the pillow buried in the blankets next to him. But the pillow stirred. groggy and confused he froze. The pillow stirred again, and then cried. A child slept next to him. The child gasped and coughed as it began its wail, reaching into the barely there morning light, searching for its few known faces. then her face appeared and she shrieked and the sight of open eyes. They sobbed together, discovering a life in eachother both thought was gone. They grabbed abd grasped at eachothers skin, trying to anchor themselves in eachother, unbelieving of the solid flesh each had under their hands. desperation forced them apart as the child choked on its own cries. She fed him lovingly and sent him away with a nurse. again they fell into eachother. again desperation ruled as they fought to climb inside eachothers bodies, clamboring for a closeness they never thought they;d have again. Desperation turned into passion as they made love wildly, unable to contain the rolling waves of celebration through their bodies. Months again passed in which they separated only out of necessity. slowly the child let himself be held and father and son built a bond on the protective touch of love. It was her tear-stained touch that had protected him, but it was the childs heartbeat that saved her. together the three grew and changed and entered the world outside of their safe little home in the woods, buried under pine needles and uprooted saplings. a year after harry potter saved the world he married his love, hermione, under a blanket of stars while their child slept in a basket at their feet. together, they survived a prophecy.
The first breath of the day escaped beyond closed eyes. In the frosty winter morning it curled like a puff of exhaled smoke, rolling out like a smokestack from deep in her lungs. White and silver it rolled like waves over the shoulder of a young man, breaking apart and vanishing into nothingness. It was followed by another, and another again, as the young woman slowly awoke and her lungs picked up speed. Her eyes cracked open into slits, barely wide enough to watch the last uncontrolled breath billow over that shoulder and away into the world. She thanked god, or the saints, or the universe at large that another morning had come. She slowly opened her eyes more to take in the rhythmic rise and fall of his ribcage in front of her. He'd moved closer in the night, or maybe it was her who had moved. her fingers flexed, seemingly of their own accord, to brush against the thick shirt he wore to keep him warm, dry, and allow the physical scars of war to heal. She'd invented the shirt, woven the cloth from the hairs of unicorns and creatures most have never seen or heard of, all to protect this man. The savior of humanity.
The only one who kept her human.
A muscle in his shoulder twitched and she noticed her own motions when her hand lept back against her own chest. He stirred but stayed asleep. Another breath, released into the world like the billowing smoke of a fire deep within her, rolling through the space between them, making it seem like a massive rift in the earth, the way she imagined canyons would be. She cherished this moment where she could imagine how it would feel for her heart to let forth its song. That fire deep within her roared until the sound filled her ears with a rumble and a hiss and a pop and crackle. Her arms ached with the fight of holding them away from him. Her skin flashed hot where his foot brushed her leg in sleep. She looked straight into the back of his head and whispered a chain of sweet nothings meant to fall on deaf ears. Closing her eyes agains the world once more she centered herself and felt him shift, rolling over to face her. He sniffled and she froze. He was awake. She could feel his thoughts radiating like an earthquake. His eyes burning into her flesh. She couldnt move. Wordlessly he reached for her and brushed a strand of hair off of her face.
"I love you too" he whispered back and a tear slipped down her face from the embarasment of having been heard. When he pulled her close she shook violently. When he kissed her forehead she sobbed openly. He gathered her close silently, knowing that he'd just blown her world open, and there would be no easy slide into the moment for her. She was so pained over keeping their distance that closing the gap hurt even more. She trusted nothing, especially him, because she believe in him as her savior. Her life was devoted to him and soon he would be lost. The war would end with the ultimate sacrifice of his life and she couldn't live with that. Every one of her fears rolled through her body as she shook. He held her tighter, desperate to be the rock she wanted.
They didnt move for hours. The sun broke through the thinned out patches of the tent, declaring that they hurry into the world. He listened to the woods around them with a silent intensity that terrified most people. His sole purpose was to protect her and they risked so much by staying still so long. He didn't care. She was too fragile to move right now. he cast warming charms over her until they settled into her bones and she slept from exhaustion.
She woke alone in the dark of night. She couldnt see him. She couldnt reach him. She couldnt feel his presence nearby. Panic set in. gasping breaths came forth, producing great belches of steam in the air, but no words would come forth. she clutched her chest afraid to move. she tightened the blankets around her as if they were her shield, wrapping herself tight enough to be laid in a tomb. a match burst to life in the darkness as he scurried to her side. She clung to him, climbing onto his lap like a child when he sat on the edge of the bed. He was cold to the touch but steaming warm underneath. He'd been outside, almost literally moving mountains to keep her safe. He'd created a storn around them, tearing trees from their rooted holds, covering their tent in a dense cave of pine needles and saplings. He carried her to the fire, forcing her to let go and sit. slowly he fed her, helped her drink, treated the deep tears in her skin she'd caused herself lately in the terrors of her sleep. He carefully undressed her, one layer at a time, and bathed her in a tub of warmed water: the only bath they'd had in months. she asked him to get in with her, to keep her safe but he gently refused, never letting go of her completely. he held her hand while he bathed himself in the dirty, chilly remnants of her bath, then carried her back to their mound of blankets on a cot they called a bed. He extinguished the fire and crawled in next to her gathering her into his skin practically. The most brilliant and beautiful girl in the world looked into his eyes for reassurance and found his warm and loving. She slept again.
it was a month before he could move her. Two before she spoke again. and three to the day when he got her to smile. Slowly the color returned to her skin, and the snine to her eyes. He told her stories about herself as if they were fairy tales to put her to sleep at any hour of the day. He told her how beautiful she was, and the unbelievable intelligence she posessed. He told her about how she made his heart beat, and the lengths he would go to to protect her for every single moment he had left. Finally, 8 months after she'd broken to pieces in his hands, shattering like glass, he kissed her. She folded into him like they'd been designed to be connected. He kissed her deeply, slowly, and carefully until they lost their breath. it became a nightly ritual. He'd lean in and kiss her, and she'd return with a few more words for conversation they next day. When his hand accidentally brushed her hip she gasped, but held it there. Then she began inviting him to lay his hand against her at any hour, and they began to learn eachother, carefully mapping out their curves, the points that make the breath catch in their throats, the touches that brought them both alive.
Finally, as spring settled in again and she'd finally gotten most of her speech back, she asked him to bathe her again. He agreed, feeling protective and she wilted slightly under his scrutiny, naked in the warm water. He kissed her temple and told her he'd never look at another woman again with so much beauty right in front of him. She got bolder, asking for this ritual on a daily basis, and finally asked him to take off his shirt one night after he'd inspected every inch of her shirtless chest and back with his lips. He hesitated. She hadn't seen the damage done since the shirt she'd made him had slid over his shoulders. They pulled it off together and she toughed his chest gently, tracing the deep red scars running accross his chest from a run in with werewolves last year, and the light pink lines that Bellatrix's nails has left on his collarbone. She kissed each line, each pockmark, and each freckle lovingly, leaving a healing warmth in her wake. They spent the night exploring again, but this time their clothing slipped away into the night as naturally as anything. He made love to her as the sun rose, telling her everything she'd ever longed to hear. She breathed every steam cloud in that he exhaled into the chilly night air.
Summer brought her back to life. She was herself more than ever before. She laughed as they made meals, a leisure they rarely afforded themselves in such a desperate time. Who can laugh while the world around you suffers so. They conceived a child in the late summer nights, under a blanket of stars. Then he found his nemesis.
Together they climbed the stairs to hogwarts, ready for the last moments together. She stood with her back tall refusing to let her heartbreak be known. She couldnt bear to let him go, but she couldnt let any more die without his saving grace. She kissed him passionately and swore to not interefere, to not risk her own life or their childs to save him, that he had to do what was foretold, and that she'd love him with all of her heart until the end of time. With a final tearstained hand to his cheek she turned and moved away, and he took a deep breath, his last calm look at her.
The unthinkable happened. She was hit moments later, cursed to the ground screaming. His rage boiled over and he leaned down, kissed her limp, bleeding body goodbye and dove headlong into the fray. He destroyed 15 with their own curses. He shattered every piece of glass in the building. He faced his enemy with a passion he'd never felt before. He needed to avenge her death. With a flick of the wrist the world went white as he and Voldemort hit eachother with the same curse. The fates interviened and he glowed. Protected again by a love stronger than any darkness could penetrate he survived the blow of a killing curse. again. he collapsed to the floor without an idea of the world around him. He was alive. She was dead. There was nothing for him. So he slept.
Months passed before he woke.
The first breath of the day escaped beyond closed eyes. In the frosty winter morning it curled like a puff of exhaled smoke, rolling out like a smokestack from deep in her lungs. White and silver it rolled like waves away from him. His eyes cracked open into slivers, catching sight of the last uncontrolled breath dissapating against the pillow buried in the blankets next to him. But the pillow stirred. groggy and confused he froze. The pillow stirred again, and then cried. A child slept next to him. The child gasped and coughed as it began its wail, reaching into the barely there morning light, searching for its few known faces. then her face appeared and she shrieked and the sight of open eyes. They sobbed together, discovering a life in eachother both thought was gone. They grabbed abd grasped at eachothers skin, trying to anchor themselves in eachother, unbelieving of the solid flesh each had under their hands. desperation forced them apart as the child choked on its own cries. She fed him lovingly and sent him away with a nurse. again they fell into eachother. again desperation ruled as they fought to climb inside eachothers bodies, clamboring for a closeness they never thought they;d have again. Desperation turned into passion as they made love wildly, unable to contain the rolling waves of celebration through their bodies. Months again passed in which they separated only out of necessity. slowly the child let himself be held and father and son built a bond on the protective touch of love. It was her tear-stained touch that had protected him, but it was the childs heartbeat that saved her. together the three grew and changed and entered the world outside of their safe little home in the woods, buried under pine needles and uprooted saplings. a year after harry potter saved the world he married his love, hermione, under a blanket of stars while their child slept in a basket at their feet. together, they survived a prophecy.