Advent Calendar Day 3
How much do I love that other people are attempting this? With the sshg exchange, deeply_horrible and the tail end of newbie fest, this month is going to be brilliant!
Happy Birthday to desigrl!
Prompt: Severus in snow. Twilight in December. A contemplative moment.
Format: Drabble (100x3)
Promptee: teddyradiator
Author’s Note’s: Not strictly in-prompt, but I wrote this at work without access to LJ or my phone. Indeed, security is so tight, this had to be smuggled out in my bra. If you touch the screen, you’ll find it’s still warm...
*
He shouldn’t have returned. There was nothing for him here.
Nothing except foolish hope.
The wards were still in place, the tent concealed within. Severus pushed forward, protective magic buzzing against his skin like bees that had lost their stings.
He would be careful. Circumspect. Just a glimpse of warm firelight through canvas, their darting shapes as they moved within. Talking, laughing, sharing food. The boys endlessly re-enacting rescuing the sword, Granger watching indulgently, her hands wrapped around a mug of steaming tea.
Just a glimpse of warmth.
Of love.
The expression of her face when the boys had returned...
*
With her protective charms warm against his skin, he allowed himself a moment’s indulgence in pointless fantasy.
There would be a chipped mug of tea for him, bitter and strong, but hot against the winter chill. He’d stamp the snow from his boots and join the others at the table.
Granger would mother him like she did the boys. He could almost hear her good natured scolding. “Eat up,” she would tell him. “You’re too thin.”
Weasley mightn’t understand, but he and Potter would share a look; eyes rolling, half-exasperated, half-indulgent, basking in the certain love behind each nagging command.
*
The wards broke and he was inside.
*
Something was wrong.
There was no light from the tent, no sound of voices. Knowing they might return at any moment, he ducked inside, not understanding what he sought.
It wasn’t this.
The hearth was cold and empty. The beds unmade. Food left uneaten on the table...
His arm began to burn, unsteady images flashing behind his eyes.
Bellatrix had summoned the Dark Lord... Potter had been found.... Granger screaming, her body twisting under Crucio....
*
When he awoke, cold and stiff amid the discarded clothes, spitting blood, he knew it was too late.
Happy Birthday to desigrl!
Prompt: Severus in snow. Twilight in December. A contemplative moment.
Format: Drabble (100x3)
Promptee: teddyradiator
Author’s Note’s: Not strictly in-prompt, but I wrote this at work without access to LJ or my phone. Indeed, security is so tight, this had to be smuggled out in my bra. If you touch the screen, you’ll find it’s still warm...
*
He shouldn’t have returned. There was nothing for him here.
Nothing except foolish hope.
The wards were still in place, the tent concealed within. Severus pushed forward, protective magic buzzing against his skin like bees that had lost their stings.
He would be careful. Circumspect. Just a glimpse of warm firelight through canvas, their darting shapes as they moved within. Talking, laughing, sharing food. The boys endlessly re-enacting rescuing the sword, Granger watching indulgently, her hands wrapped around a mug of steaming tea.
Just a glimpse of warmth.
Of love.
The expression of her face when the boys had returned...
*
With her protective charms warm against his skin, he allowed himself a moment’s indulgence in pointless fantasy.
There would be a chipped mug of tea for him, bitter and strong, but hot against the winter chill. He’d stamp the snow from his boots and join the others at the table.
Granger would mother him like she did the boys. He could almost hear her good natured scolding. “Eat up,” she would tell him. “You’re too thin.”
Weasley mightn’t understand, but he and Potter would share a look; eyes rolling, half-exasperated, half-indulgent, basking in the certain love behind each nagging command.
*
The wards broke and he was inside.
*
Something was wrong.
There was no light from the tent, no sound of voices. Knowing they might return at any moment, he ducked inside, not understanding what he sought.
It wasn’t this.
The hearth was cold and empty. The beds unmade. Food left uneaten on the table...
His arm began to burn, unsteady images flashing behind his eyes.
Bellatrix had summoned the Dark Lord... Potter had been found.... Granger screaming, her body twisting under Crucio....
*
When he awoke, cold and stiff amid the discarded clothes, spitting blood, he knew it was too late.