For sibility
Recipient: sibility
Author: admanthea
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Never Over
"It was over, but it would never be over."
An obscure saying, in an instant, became a universal truth. The war was over. There would be no more of the one evil the world had been at war with.
Harry sat in a small living room with scarce furnishing and the tiniest of Christmas trees. He stared out the window to the snowy sky. He really needed to stop doing this at night. It was over. It had ended.
Of course it would never end. The thousands who died at his hands, they would never be reborn. Saying their names would always be Harry’s greatest fear, because he could not save them.
Those who were damaged...it did not always seem like they would be repaired.
The night the ground had turned to fire, the night it seemed that everything was over, that was the night that Ron Weasley had looked directly at Harry, sitting in a empty room in the middle of the panic at Headquarters, and stated simply, "I’m with you, whatever you do. It’s us Harry, it always was us."
The moment was hard to escape. Harry had smiled at his best friend, put on a brave face, and almost broke down sobbing with the effort.
Ron sat next to Harry on the creaking old bed, and kissed him. It should have been nothing special, just a brush of his lips over the side of Harry’s face. Yet it was. It meant everything. Harry had held onto Ron as if Ron were his last chance to win.
Ron never broke his promises, and was there with him through the entire battle; protective, shielding Harry with his every move. A curse would fly and Ron would deflect it. He’d be hit, he’d wince and continue, close to Harry as humanly possible.
Every moment, the smoke rose, the buildings burned; but every other moment, Harry would find Ron’s eyes in the daze, serious, protective. He could not believe it, but in the midst of a heated battle, their bodies hardly went a few inches apart. Ron’s eyes were always met his.
Then they did not. Just for a moment, Harry could not find Ron. A painful blast of energy hit his shoulder. He ignored it.
Yet in that moment when he could not find his protector, his moment came. The moment he was ‘bred’ to live. It was the moment to end Voldemort, and in an unconscious fight, he won. The worry over where Ron was consumed him, and the flames flew.
People would be asking for years how Harry Potter managed to defeat the greatest dark wizard of all time. Harry would be honest. He would say that his mind left him for that moment.
He was no better than a desperate animal, fighting with his instinct. Years of training, and it took a few motions, no effort at all. Only his worry for Ron, the image of serious, sincere eyes protecting him.
He watched Voldemort fall, but the lack of deep eyes staring at him was frightening. It felt as though the grounds around him were moving under some sort of delay.
It reminded him of the time after sixth year when Hermione had cast a charm to delay time reactions. Everything went slowly, Harry scanned the world for Ron
He could hear people crying, screaming, cheering. He even heard a female voice yelling, "You did it Harry." It could have been Hermione, or maybe not. He fell then, backwards. He hit his head hard.
"Ron."
He needed Ron. It was essential to his survival. It did not matter than Voldemort seemed gone, if Ron wasn’t there. Panic gripped him.
And he stood, found Ron, and the spell suspending time crashed. Ron was against a shattered stone wall, weakened, hit with several unimaginable things. His eyes opened the minute Harry came near. "There you are," was all Ron said then.
They had both lived through the war. Alive, and mostly undamaged. Mostly. Ron had been hit with several inventive curses, and sometimes he seemed to move like an aged man. Harry knew he tried his best. Harry tried his best as well, to stop his own emotional upsets.
There were many nights when neither could sleep. Nights they had to spend looking at each other hopefully, hoping for an eventual change.
On some days, it seemed that mostly undamaged might just be too damaged to move on. In that moment they had lost each other’s eyes, they had found many scars, both physical and emotional.
Not everyone had survived. Few had survived with their minds and souls intact. After that night several they called friend were gone. It had taken around twenty minutes for it to end, according to his sources. In that instant, so many were taken.
Yet this was one of the nights where they were forced to look at the parts of them that were still alive. It was one of those nights where they had to live.
A benefit of surviving the deadliest battle of all time-they lived together, they were in love. It was the night before Christmas, and Harry had told Ron that he loved him. He was not lying. His only thought as the world became engulfed in fire was Ron. He loved his best friend more than anything.
They had survived the one thing they had lived for. It had always been the two of them, ever since that moment they met on the train to Hogwarts, looking at each other curiously.
Harry was moved from his musings by a rustling sound, and then a voice from the back bedroom of their small home. "Harry...what did I tell you about going into dramatic thinking spells. Come back in here already!"
Harry smiled. Ron was right, as always.
"COME ON Harry! Christmas Eve and I deserve you here, don’t I? I can’t sleep when you’re not in here..."
"Yes you do," Harry muttered, returning to where he belonged. Where he hoped he would always belong.
Author: admanthea
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Never Over
"It was over, but it would never be over."
An obscure saying, in an instant, became a universal truth. The war was over. There would be no more of the one evil the world had been at war with.
Harry sat in a small living room with scarce furnishing and the tiniest of Christmas trees. He stared out the window to the snowy sky. He really needed to stop doing this at night. It was over. It had ended.
Of course it would never end. The thousands who died at his hands, they would never be reborn. Saying their names would always be Harry’s greatest fear, because he could not save them.
Those who were damaged...it did not always seem like they would be repaired.
The night the ground had turned to fire, the night it seemed that everything was over, that was the night that Ron Weasley had looked directly at Harry, sitting in a empty room in the middle of the panic at Headquarters, and stated simply, "I’m with you, whatever you do. It’s us Harry, it always was us."
The moment was hard to escape. Harry had smiled at his best friend, put on a brave face, and almost broke down sobbing with the effort.
Ron sat next to Harry on the creaking old bed, and kissed him. It should have been nothing special, just a brush of his lips over the side of Harry’s face. Yet it was. It meant everything. Harry had held onto Ron as if Ron were his last chance to win.
Ron never broke his promises, and was there with him through the entire battle; protective, shielding Harry with his every move. A curse would fly and Ron would deflect it. He’d be hit, he’d wince and continue, close to Harry as humanly possible.
Every moment, the smoke rose, the buildings burned; but every other moment, Harry would find Ron’s eyes in the daze, serious, protective. He could not believe it, but in the midst of a heated battle, their bodies hardly went a few inches apart. Ron’s eyes were always met his.
Then they did not. Just for a moment, Harry could not find Ron. A painful blast of energy hit his shoulder. He ignored it.
Yet in that moment when he could not find his protector, his moment came. The moment he was ‘bred’ to live. It was the moment to end Voldemort, and in an unconscious fight, he won. The worry over where Ron was consumed him, and the flames flew.
People would be asking for years how Harry Potter managed to defeat the greatest dark wizard of all time. Harry would be honest. He would say that his mind left him for that moment.
He was no better than a desperate animal, fighting with his instinct. Years of training, and it took a few motions, no effort at all. Only his worry for Ron, the image of serious, sincere eyes protecting him.
He watched Voldemort fall, but the lack of deep eyes staring at him was frightening. It felt as though the grounds around him were moving under some sort of delay.
It reminded him of the time after sixth year when Hermione had cast a charm to delay time reactions. Everything went slowly, Harry scanned the world for Ron
He could hear people crying, screaming, cheering. He even heard a female voice yelling, "You did it Harry." It could have been Hermione, or maybe not. He fell then, backwards. He hit his head hard.
"Ron."
He needed Ron. It was essential to his survival. It did not matter than Voldemort seemed gone, if Ron wasn’t there. Panic gripped him.
And he stood, found Ron, and the spell suspending time crashed. Ron was against a shattered stone wall, weakened, hit with several unimaginable things. His eyes opened the minute Harry came near. "There you are," was all Ron said then.
They had both lived through the war. Alive, and mostly undamaged. Mostly. Ron had been hit with several inventive curses, and sometimes he seemed to move like an aged man. Harry knew he tried his best. Harry tried his best as well, to stop his own emotional upsets.
There were many nights when neither could sleep. Nights they had to spend looking at each other hopefully, hoping for an eventual change.
On some days, it seemed that mostly undamaged might just be too damaged to move on. In that moment they had lost each other’s eyes, they had found many scars, both physical and emotional.
Not everyone had survived. Few had survived with their minds and souls intact. After that night several they called friend were gone. It had taken around twenty minutes for it to end, according to his sources. In that instant, so many were taken.
Yet this was one of the nights where they were forced to look at the parts of them that were still alive. It was one of those nights where they had to live.
A benefit of surviving the deadliest battle of all time-they lived together, they were in love. It was the night before Christmas, and Harry had told Ron that he loved him. He was not lying. His only thought as the world became engulfed in fire was Ron. He loved his best friend more than anything.
They had survived the one thing they had lived for. It had always been the two of them, ever since that moment they met on the train to Hogwarts, looking at each other curiously.
Harry was moved from his musings by a rustling sound, and then a voice from the back bedroom of their small home. "Harry...what did I tell you about going into dramatic thinking spells. Come back in here already!"
Harry smiled. Ron was right, as always.
"COME ON Harry! Christmas Eve and I deserve you here, don’t I? I can’t sleep when you’re not in here..."
"Yes you do," Harry muttered, returning to where he belonged. Where he hoped he would always belong.