[Harry Potter] Drabbles: Thoughts on Dreams & Find a Way
Title: Thoughts on Dreams
Challenge: snarry_ldws , prompts: pensieve and diatribe
Words: 300
Summary: Harry arrives, unannounced, to see Severus in a temper.
Warnings: None. Though this could be seen more as allusions to how a relationship could start more than anything else.
“You egotistical, impossible, self-absorbed, infernal little cockroach.” Harry grinned at the diatribe, leaning his hip against the open doorway. For once, those words weren’t directed at him and he could properly enjoy the moment. “Just what do you think you were doing?” Severus finished.
Harry tilted his head to the side, the better to see around the taller man’s form. The grin slipped off his face. Why was Draco Malfoy in Severus’ house to begin with?
Malfoy didn’t answer at first, head bowed, but he stood beside a pensieve full of whirling memories and Harry had an idea what the other man had been up to. He moved forward instinctively and placed a hand on Severus’ arm. “What’s going on here?”
The fury Severus felt seemed to subside at the touch and the older man angled his head to his guest. There was a subtle tightness around the man’s jaw that indicated now wasn’t the time for petulant words or teasing. Harry understood that and slid his hand up, squeezing his friend’s shoulder. Since the end of the war, they had reached an understanding and that reflected in their actions today. Severus trusted him and let those simple gestures be an anchor to him when anything else would have fuelled his rage.
“He,” Severus could make a pronoun sound like a curse, “chose to look into my memories. My more personal ones. My dreams.”
“Dreams aren’t something you can control …” Harry trailed off, remembering some of his own. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he tried, more resolute.
Severus glanced at him, expression blank. “You believe that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
There was a moment of silence and then Severus turned away. “We’ll find out exactly how true that is someday.”
Title: Find a Way
Challenge: bwfd_ldws , picture prompt
Words: 499
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Allusions to torture, kidnapping, and other unpleasant things.
Author's Notes: Nothing graphic, just a piece from a prisoner’s prospective.
Fleur had been caught by Snatchers. On her way back from a shopping trip, nonetheless.
In hindsight, she would wish to whatever deity had given them magic that some restrictions weren’t necessary. If they could have conjured food from thin air, things would have been so much simpler. For all of them. She could have stayed safely under the Fidelius Charm with her husband and everything would have been good.
Regardless of what could have been, she had volunteered to make the trip, insisting she was as good as anyone with a wand and a fist. She had insisted and insisted until Bill had given in. Fleur was nothing if not persistent when she wanted something. Tears prickled at her eyes at the thought of her husband. She would never see him again by the look of it, isolated as she was in this small room with no light. Angry at herself and her captors, she slammed a hand against the wall, biting back a scream - from the pain or frustration didn’t matter, she just knew she couldn’t or they would come back in.
Those Pureblood fanatics would use every trick in the book, too. Simple Crucios had outlived their usefulness to them and the past few days she had been subjected to more gruesome forms of entertainment. A sob ripped from her throat, unbidden, and she dragged her hand down the wall, unseen blood smearing against it. She hated waiting and they were making her do just that. Why wouldn’t they just kill her? No, they were holding her hostage, hoping to lure out Bill, hoping to lure out Bill’s brother. Hoping against hope to lure out Harry Potter and be rewarded beyond all others.
She felt around in the darkness and pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the porcelain tub. They had shoved her into this dingy little bathroom and refused to let her out since what had to be forever. She would have preferred a dungeon to this. The air smelled of mildew and mold and rusted pipes - and her skin was raw from where she had clawed at the door, hoping to break free from steel with her bare hands. They had taken her wand, placed a collar around her neck to absorb any accident outbursts of magic, and she had only to wait. Wait to die, wait to be rescued, wait to see the light of day of again. Wait, wait, wait. Nothing to do but wait.
It was unbearable. She could think of nothing but the pressing darkness, the growing cold, everything else felt too surreal, too much like a dream that would never end. Where was Bill? Was he even searching for her? He ‘as too be, she assured herself, though she knew she couldn’t bear it if something had happened to Bill.
She forced back panic. Bill would come to her, and if he could not, she would come to him. She would find a way; she would.
Challenge: snarry_ldws , prompts: pensieve and diatribe
Words: 300
Summary: Harry arrives, unannounced, to see Severus in a temper.
Warnings: None. Though this could be seen more as allusions to how a relationship could start more than anything else.
“You egotistical, impossible, self-absorbed, infernal little cockroach.” Harry grinned at the diatribe, leaning his hip against the open doorway. For once, those words weren’t directed at him and he could properly enjoy the moment. “Just what do you think you were doing?” Severus finished.
Harry tilted his head to the side, the better to see around the taller man’s form. The grin slipped off his face. Why was Draco Malfoy in Severus’ house to begin with?
Malfoy didn’t answer at first, head bowed, but he stood beside a pensieve full of whirling memories and Harry had an idea what the other man had been up to. He moved forward instinctively and placed a hand on Severus’ arm. “What’s going on here?”
The fury Severus felt seemed to subside at the touch and the older man angled his head to his guest. There was a subtle tightness around the man’s jaw that indicated now wasn’t the time for petulant words or teasing. Harry understood that and slid his hand up, squeezing his friend’s shoulder. Since the end of the war, they had reached an understanding and that reflected in their actions today. Severus trusted him and let those simple gestures be an anchor to him when anything else would have fuelled his rage.
“He,” Severus could make a pronoun sound like a curse, “chose to look into my memories. My more personal ones. My dreams.”
“Dreams aren’t something you can control …” Harry trailed off, remembering some of his own. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he tried, more resolute.
Severus glanced at him, expression blank. “You believe that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
There was a moment of silence and then Severus turned away. “We’ll find out exactly how true that is someday.”
Title: Find a Way
Challenge: bwfd_ldws , picture prompt
Words: 499
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Allusions to torture, kidnapping, and other unpleasant things.
Author's Notes: Nothing graphic, just a piece from a prisoner’s prospective.
Fleur had been caught by Snatchers. On her way back from a shopping trip, nonetheless.
In hindsight, she would wish to whatever deity had given them magic that some restrictions weren’t necessary. If they could have conjured food from thin air, things would have been so much simpler. For all of them. She could have stayed safely under the Fidelius Charm with her husband and everything would have been good.
Regardless of what could have been, she had volunteered to make the trip, insisting she was as good as anyone with a wand and a fist. She had insisted and insisted until Bill had given in. Fleur was nothing if not persistent when she wanted something. Tears prickled at her eyes at the thought of her husband. She would never see him again by the look of it, isolated as she was in this small room with no light. Angry at herself and her captors, she slammed a hand against the wall, biting back a scream - from the pain or frustration didn’t matter, she just knew she couldn’t or they would come back in.
Those Pureblood fanatics would use every trick in the book, too. Simple Crucios had outlived their usefulness to them and the past few days she had been subjected to more gruesome forms of entertainment. A sob ripped from her throat, unbidden, and she dragged her hand down the wall, unseen blood smearing against it. She hated waiting and they were making her do just that. Why wouldn’t they just kill her? No, they were holding her hostage, hoping to lure out Bill, hoping to lure out Bill’s brother. Hoping against hope to lure out Harry Potter and be rewarded beyond all others.
She felt around in the darkness and pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the porcelain tub. They had shoved her into this dingy little bathroom and refused to let her out since what had to be forever. She would have preferred a dungeon to this. The air smelled of mildew and mold and rusted pipes - and her skin was raw from where she had clawed at the door, hoping to break free from steel with her bare hands. They had taken her wand, placed a collar around her neck to absorb any accident outbursts of magic, and she had only to wait. Wait to die, wait to be rescued, wait to see the light of day of again. Wait, wait, wait. Nothing to do but wait.
It was unbearable. She could think of nothing but the pressing darkness, the growing cold, everything else felt too surreal, too much like a dream that would never end. Where was Bill? Was he even searching for her? He ‘as too be, she assured herself, though she knew she couldn’t bear it if something had happened to Bill.
She forced back panic. Bill would come to her, and if he could not, she would come to him. She would find a way; she would.