Drabble: Nostalgia
Oooh, I did it! Thanks for the detailed instructions, PigWithHair!
Prompt: Nostalgia
Title: Home thoughts from Grimmauld Place
Author: Aramintalupin
Characters/Ship: R/Hr
Rating/Warning: none
Word Count: 500
Of all the fears that should be keeping me awake on a night like this, it’s the sound of scuttling from behind the cracked wainscoting that’s really getting to me.
Spiders ought to be the least of my worries, even if they might be dirty great big ones with sharp pincers that could crawl up over my sleeping bag and... No. I’ve got to stop thinking about them and focus on the situation at hand.
We were all bloody lucky to escape tonight.
Is that what it’s going to be like now?
We haven’t got a plan-there just wasn’t time. But now we’re on the run. And I can’t go home.
Merlin, I hope Dad wasn’t lying when he sent that Patronus saying they’re all safe. I just find it hard to believe that the Death Eaters would have left them alone without making some kind of example-they better not have tortured Bill, not at his own wedding, he’s only just been patched up from Greyback’s attack.
Maybe the Order sent them packing before they could do too much damage. Mum would kill them if they trampled her roses, anyway... unless they got to her first... or Ginny.
I mean let’s face it-they would’ve gone for Ginny first, wouldn’t they? Malfoy saw her with Harry: he’d have told them that she’d likely know where Harry was hiding... If they’ve hurt my little sister I will hunt them down and rip them apart with my own bare hands.
I need to know they’re all okay. A Patronus isn’t enough.
What if I never see them again?
...
“Ron?”
“Yeah?”
“Can’t you sleep?”
“No. You?”
“This doesn’t feel real. I keep thinking it might all just be a horrible dream.”
“Yeah. You and me both.”
“Ron? They will be all right you know. Your family. They’ll be much safer without us there.”
“Mmmh.”
“Ron? I’m scared.”
...
I don’t know what to say; I can’t tell her it’ll all be okay when I don’t believe it myself.
I reach up to pat her hand- at least that’s something, but she must think I’ve got other ideas because she catches my hand in hers and doesn’t let go.
If I live to be a hundred-if we ever get out of this alive-I’ll never forget how it felt to hold her hand and dance with her at the wedding.
She feels like... home. Her hand’s small and warm and it lifts the pressure off my chest just a bit: things seem slightly less bleak when I know she’s lying right next to me.
She looked beautiful today. I wish I’d told her that while we were dancing; it’s a bit late to mention it now, but I’m going to hold onto the memory of her in that dress, in my arms, just in case I need to produce a Patronus of my own any time soon.
I squeeze her hand back. I’ll never let go of her now.