Present-RP: Of Dreamscapes and Escaping (Harry, Tonks)
DATE/TIME: 10 July 2007 (afternoon)
CHARACTERS: Harry Potter, Tonks
PLACE: Hogwarts, the DMLE
RATING: PG (for language)
STATUS: Incomplete
Harry had spent his second night in a row tossing and turning and when he made to get up out of bed and saw nothing but clouds out his window, he crashed back onto his pillows, muttering a spell to shut the blinds. Flix hissed a laugh from his aquarium and Harry threatened him violently in the snake language. Hedwig looked on mournfully - she seemed to think Harry had died. Part of him wished he had. Not only had he lost the faith and kindness of his closest friend (and the woman he was hoping to more than closest friends with as well) but he'd seen what a pisser his childhood best friend had become over the years and then been betrayed by both of them. Hermione hadn't contacted him, and the events of the Sunday before had haunted his dreams in twisting ways - in the first he'd been on the battlefield, The Last Battle, he had just turned eighteen, and he was hoping with a stinging sensation in his chest that at the end of this night it would all be over; in another he sat immobile at a funeral - in the dream he didn't know where or when it was, but he knew whose it was and that thought was enough to give him a cold sweat; in another he'd seen Ron and Hermione curling up in bed much like he and she had done over the last few days. All of this in two evenings of restlessness, a sick feeling in his stomach at all that he thought he had dealt with - old scars torn open but unexpectedly harsh words and more blame. How had he done it? How had he been fourteen, seventeen, and dealt with the blame so silently? So strongly? Had he really? He'd had nightmares then, but he'd had people to discuss them with - this time they just tormented him. He couldn't discuss these things... For a brief moment, Harry found himself for the first time in a long time thinking of Sirius, and wishing he were there to ask these things of. Sirius had always had a smile, a barking laugh, a story to ease the melodrama of everyday life and when he hadn't, when he was surly, he'd always had some good wit in mind, some good revenge. Of course, thinking of his Godfather never made sleeping any easier and so he turned over, his face buried in pillows, and in the artificial darkness of his quarters tried to think of someone he could properly vent to, someone who wouldn't think he was crazy for still having open scars, someone who --
The thought hit him so hard Harry had a hard time believing something hadn't actually hit him over the head. He got up and dressed quickly, eating a bit of toast that Dobby must have brought in for him when he hadn't shown up to breakfast for the second day in a row, and summoned a green quill and a fresh sheet of parchment to his small table.
Tonks-
Oh Merlin, do I hope you're around. Free for a pint sometime soon? I know I've been pants at keeping in touch since leaving the DMLE, but we've all been busy as I'm sure you know. I do miss you though, and we should grab a pint as soon as you're free - things have not gone well, Tonks. I'm sure I can explain more easily later, and I know we were never much for gushing and ranting - but I think if I don't talk to someone soon Dobby will have me declared legally dead and they'll ship me off to Mungo's. Let me know when you're free, I'm always around,
Harry
CHARACTERS: Harry Potter, Tonks
PLACE: Hogwarts, the DMLE
RATING: PG (for language)
STATUS: Incomplete
Harry had spent his second night in a row tossing and turning and when he made to get up out of bed and saw nothing but clouds out his window, he crashed back onto his pillows, muttering a spell to shut the blinds. Flix hissed a laugh from his aquarium and Harry threatened him violently in the snake language. Hedwig looked on mournfully - she seemed to think Harry had died. Part of him wished he had. Not only had he lost the faith and kindness of his closest friend (and the woman he was hoping to more than closest friends with as well) but he'd seen what a pisser his childhood best friend had become over the years and then been betrayed by both of them. Hermione hadn't contacted him, and the events of the Sunday before had haunted his dreams in twisting ways - in the first he'd been on the battlefield, The Last Battle, he had just turned eighteen, and he was hoping with a stinging sensation in his chest that at the end of this night it would all be over; in another he sat immobile at a funeral - in the dream he didn't know where or when it was, but he knew whose it was and that thought was enough to give him a cold sweat; in another he'd seen Ron and Hermione curling up in bed much like he and she had done over the last few days. All of this in two evenings of restlessness, a sick feeling in his stomach at all that he thought he had dealt with - old scars torn open but unexpectedly harsh words and more blame. How had he done it? How had he been fourteen, seventeen, and dealt with the blame so silently? So strongly? Had he really? He'd had nightmares then, but he'd had people to discuss them with - this time they just tormented him. He couldn't discuss these things... For a brief moment, Harry found himself for the first time in a long time thinking of Sirius, and wishing he were there to ask these things of. Sirius had always had a smile, a barking laugh, a story to ease the melodrama of everyday life and when he hadn't, when he was surly, he'd always had some good wit in mind, some good revenge. Of course, thinking of his Godfather never made sleeping any easier and so he turned over, his face buried in pillows, and in the artificial darkness of his quarters tried to think of someone he could properly vent to, someone who wouldn't think he was crazy for still having open scars, someone who --
The thought hit him so hard Harry had a hard time believing something hadn't actually hit him over the head. He got up and dressed quickly, eating a bit of toast that Dobby must have brought in for him when he hadn't shown up to breakfast for the second day in a row, and summoned a green quill and a fresh sheet of parchment to his small table.
Tonks-
Oh Merlin, do I hope you're around. Free for a pint sometime soon? I know I've been pants at keeping in touch since leaving the DMLE, but we've all been busy as I'm sure you know. I do miss you though, and we should grab a pint as soon as you're free - things have not gone well, Tonks. I'm sure I can explain more easily later, and I know we were never much for gushing and ranting - but I think if I don't talk to someone soon Dobby will have me declared legally dead and they'll ship me off to Mungo's. Let me know when you're free, I'm always around,
Harry