hp_canon_fest Pick-A-Prompt Fic
Title: Darkness and Light.
Author: scribhneoir1
Prompt: The house is getting dark.
Pairing(s): Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 854
Rating: PG13
Summary: A life well lived.
It has been a gradual process really; a progression that spanned young to old in a hop, skip and a jump. Somewhere along the lines, light and dark had mingled and become the marking points in his life.
He had treasured, blurry memories of being afraid of the dark. His older self was convinced that it was the result of nefarious tales from certain older brothers but his younger self saw uncertainty in the darkness and monsters in the shadows. When the house would get quieter and darker his younger self had grown increasingly afraid; his mind would run riot with imaginative scenarios. The clanging and random battering of the ghoul upstairs hadn’t helped much either.
His father had stayed with him many a night until he fell asleep and his brother Bill was forever his hero when he listened to the fears, didn’t tease and then gifted the small little boy with an enchanted nightlight.
He could also remember clearly when the once reassuring light had become dark. He had been six when he had found his mother quietly sobbing, perched on a chair in the back of the kitchen. It had been a bright and sunny day and yet he could clearly see the darkness which hovered around his mother as she cried. He’d gently pulled on her hand, crawled up onto her lap and hugged her in the way she always hugged him. He would swear, in later years, that he had also offered her the remaining half of a rather squashed and melted chocolate bar which he had hidden in his pocket. As a child, all he’d known was that his mother was sad and he had to help her feel better. As an adult, he’d realised that it had been the anniversary of his uncles’ deaths.
School had seemed to bring a surprising clarity and clear definitions of ‘light’ and ‘dark’. And yet, the mingling and merging of the darkness into the light brought unsettling nightmares. The intrusion of light into darkness, meanwhile, brought welcome relief. It was as he fought on the side of ‘light’, his heart breaking at the loss of his brother, that he realised that light and dark must co-exist. When he held Hermione close, he accepted the shadows in her eyes as she did with him, as they were proof of what they’d overcome and the unerring strength which they possessed.
When the years passed and he too set up a charmed nightlight for a scared little boy, he knew that it was another turning point.
Soon after, he found that it fell to him to turn the lights off at The Burrow.
He’d gone from room to room, taking the time to appreciate every moment that had existed. The good, the bad and the everyday were relived and appreciated as each light was extinguished. In honour of his father, he’d physically turned each and every solitary light off. But, rather than walking away from a darkened house, he’d found that the light of the memories and the love shone brighter than ever. And when he found himself finally crying in the kitchen of his own home in the early hours of the following morning, he realised that there was more than one set of arms waiting to hug him.
It had been a bright, sunny morning in July when the darkness once again intruded on his long life. He’d held her wrinkled hand in his and gently brushed her white hair from her forehead as her breath rattled in her chest. He’d brought her home and gently cared for her, memorising every smile and moment. She’d looked at him in that moment, with more clarity than she’d possessed in quite a while. He’d placed a gentle kiss upon her lips and then…she was gone.
He’d been the grand old age of ninety-two when the Healers had told him that there was nothing they could do to save his eyesight. The degeneration had reached a level where no charm or potion could touch it and it was simply a matter of time before his world turned dark and his eyesight was lost permanently.
He knew they couldn’t understand why he wasn’t in any way upset at the news. He simply accepted it and moved on. He had tried to explain to them but found that the wisdom he had found in old age would be lost on the naivety of youth. How could he explain to them that the darkness was simply a part of life? How could he tell them that the presence of his children and his grandchildren turned on the lights and lit up the room for him?
He would never tell them that, when he was alone, he could almost feel her hand resting in his. He would never tell them that the mere hint of her presence was enough to turn the lights on. He would never tell them that there were many moments throughout every day that he could feel her by his side, guiding him, reassuring him…loving him.
Light had become dark, dark had become light.
Author: scribhneoir1
Prompt: The house is getting dark.
Pairing(s): Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 854
Rating: PG13
Summary: A life well lived.
It has been a gradual process really; a progression that spanned young to old in a hop, skip and a jump. Somewhere along the lines, light and dark had mingled and become the marking points in his life.
He had treasured, blurry memories of being afraid of the dark. His older self was convinced that it was the result of nefarious tales from certain older brothers but his younger self saw uncertainty in the darkness and monsters in the shadows. When the house would get quieter and darker his younger self had grown increasingly afraid; his mind would run riot with imaginative scenarios. The clanging and random battering of the ghoul upstairs hadn’t helped much either.
His father had stayed with him many a night until he fell asleep and his brother Bill was forever his hero when he listened to the fears, didn’t tease and then gifted the small little boy with an enchanted nightlight.
He could also remember clearly when the once reassuring light had become dark. He had been six when he had found his mother quietly sobbing, perched on a chair in the back of the kitchen. It had been a bright and sunny day and yet he could clearly see the darkness which hovered around his mother as she cried. He’d gently pulled on her hand, crawled up onto her lap and hugged her in the way she always hugged him. He would swear, in later years, that he had also offered her the remaining half of a rather squashed and melted chocolate bar which he had hidden in his pocket. As a child, all he’d known was that his mother was sad and he had to help her feel better. As an adult, he’d realised that it had been the anniversary of his uncles’ deaths.
School had seemed to bring a surprising clarity and clear definitions of ‘light’ and ‘dark’. And yet, the mingling and merging of the darkness into the light brought unsettling nightmares. The intrusion of light into darkness, meanwhile, brought welcome relief. It was as he fought on the side of ‘light’, his heart breaking at the loss of his brother, that he realised that light and dark must co-exist. When he held Hermione close, he accepted the shadows in her eyes as she did with him, as they were proof of what they’d overcome and the unerring strength which they possessed.
When the years passed and he too set up a charmed nightlight for a scared little boy, he knew that it was another turning point.
Soon after, he found that it fell to him to turn the lights off at The Burrow.
He’d gone from room to room, taking the time to appreciate every moment that had existed. The good, the bad and the everyday were relived and appreciated as each light was extinguished. In honour of his father, he’d physically turned each and every solitary light off. But, rather than walking away from a darkened house, he’d found that the light of the memories and the love shone brighter than ever. And when he found himself finally crying in the kitchen of his own home in the early hours of the following morning, he realised that there was more than one set of arms waiting to hug him.
It had been a bright, sunny morning in July when the darkness once again intruded on his long life. He’d held her wrinkled hand in his and gently brushed her white hair from her forehead as her breath rattled in her chest. He’d brought her home and gently cared for her, memorising every smile and moment. She’d looked at him in that moment, with more clarity than she’d possessed in quite a while. He’d placed a gentle kiss upon her lips and then…she was gone.
He’d been the grand old age of ninety-two when the Healers had told him that there was nothing they could do to save his eyesight. The degeneration had reached a level where no charm or potion could touch it and it was simply a matter of time before his world turned dark and his eyesight was lost permanently.
He knew they couldn’t understand why he wasn’t in any way upset at the news. He simply accepted it and moved on. He had tried to explain to them but found that the wisdom he had found in old age would be lost on the naivety of youth. How could he explain to them that the darkness was simply a part of life? How could he tell them that the presence of his children and his grandchildren turned on the lights and lit up the room for him?
He would never tell them that, when he was alone, he could almost feel her hand resting in his. He would never tell them that the mere hint of her presence was enough to turn the lights on. He would never tell them that there were many moments throughout every day that he could feel her by his side, guiding him, reassuring him…loving him.
Light had become dark, dark had become light.