Challenge 43: Addiction
Title: Addiction (original Kai is original)
Rating/Warnings: Mild swearing.
Characters/Pairing: Harry.
Summary: Harry has a hobby he keeps secret from Ginny.
Word Count: 379
Purchases: Quill & parchment.
Harry pushed away from the table roughly, his breathing ragged. His bangs were damp with sweat and he pushed them off his forehead, scrubbing the skin there with calloused fingers. He was shaking.
He forced himself to slow his breathing, trying to steady it, and looked at the clock. It was only half-past. Ginny shouldn't be back for another hour... He clenched and released his fists slowly, trying to decide if he had time for another.
He knew it wasn't healthy. He'd known since he started; every time he sat down at this table, he was struck with the cold, unbiden memory of Dumbledore, that damned expression of pity and heartbreak so clearly visible even through his sympathetic smile, as he patiently explained to Harry why he needed to stop visiting the Mirror of Erised. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.
But this was different, he told himself. This wasn't clinging to an impossible hope that could never be; they were gone. He accepted that. So why was it unreasonable of him to want to know them, the family he'd never had?
It was Snape's fault. That man, despite his hatred for Harry, had given him the most real glimpses of his parents he'd even known, the starkest glimpse into the character of his godfather, a glimmer of truth in the world of idealised lies everyone else fed him. He stared into the pool of shimmering liquid in front of him and tried to ignore how pale and unhealthy his reflection looked. It was just painful, sometimes, seeing the memories. He'd been working quietly at growing his collection, tracking down people who'd known them in life, writing letter after letter, saying it was for a special project. The truth was, he was the project. He felt like his sanity hinged on this, on unraveling the mystery, on filling in the gaps and knowing them the way he'd never had the chance to. His family.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and listening to the even tick of the clock behind him, tree branches whispering at the front windows that probably needed to be trimmed back, the slowing of his own heartbeat.
With a steady hand, he reached for another vial. He had time for just one more.
Kai//Slytherin
Rating/Warnings: Mild swearing.
Characters/Pairing: Harry.
Summary: Harry has a hobby he keeps secret from Ginny.
Word Count: 379
Purchases: Quill & parchment.
Harry pushed away from the table roughly, his breathing ragged. His bangs were damp with sweat and he pushed them off his forehead, scrubbing the skin there with calloused fingers. He was shaking.
He forced himself to slow his breathing, trying to steady it, and looked at the clock. It was only half-past. Ginny shouldn't be back for another hour... He clenched and released his fists slowly, trying to decide if he had time for another.
He knew it wasn't healthy. He'd known since he started; every time he sat down at this table, he was struck with the cold, unbiden memory of Dumbledore, that damned expression of pity and heartbreak so clearly visible even through his sympathetic smile, as he patiently explained to Harry why he needed to stop visiting the Mirror of Erised. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.
But this was different, he told himself. This wasn't clinging to an impossible hope that could never be; they were gone. He accepted that. So why was it unreasonable of him to want to know them, the family he'd never had?
It was Snape's fault. That man, despite his hatred for Harry, had given him the most real glimpses of his parents he'd even known, the starkest glimpse into the character of his godfather, a glimmer of truth in the world of idealised lies everyone else fed him. He stared into the pool of shimmering liquid in front of him and tried to ignore how pale and unhealthy his reflection looked. It was just painful, sometimes, seeing the memories. He'd been working quietly at growing his collection, tracking down people who'd known them in life, writing letter after letter, saying it was for a special project. The truth was, he was the project. He felt like his sanity hinged on this, on unraveling the mystery, on filling in the gaps and knowing them the way he'd never had the chance to. His family.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and listening to the even tick of the clock behind him, tree branches whispering at the front windows that probably needed to be trimmed back, the slowing of his own heartbeat.
With a steady hand, he reached for another vial. He had time for just one more.
Kai//Slytherin