(no subject)
Title:Renaissance
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Laura Madley/Theodore Nott
Prompt: 002. Middles
Word Count: 563
Rating: G
Summary: In the middle of all things, they return to what was their beginning.
Author's Notes: None
What he called the middle of their time she called their Renaissance. She said it was a re-birth more than anything, oh and didn’t he just love that word? He had grunted in reply and she was ecstatic that he agreed. He did, really he did. It made plenty of sense that what occurred in the middle was just a repeat of what happened in the beginning. History had a funny way of repeating it’s self.
Yet even if it had been a repeat that they had coming, it wasn’t as bright as the first time around. The first time around it was all yellow sundresses and childish giggles with her. The first time around, it was complete and utter sunlight drenching his previously cold heart and it was all quite... warm.
In the middle, when the cold had crept back into his heart trying to settle for good, it was a warmth that she brought but with a maturity that had astounded him. He recalled her as the child and it wasn’t enough to keep him from turning into what Notts turned into. Hatred took over no matter how hard he’d focus on the image of a girl in pigtails offering him sugar quills and chocolate frogs. Death ruled the heart that she had drenched with her natural light and in the middle…. All seemed quite lost for him.
She had to grow, from thirteen to eighteen, and somewhere in April of sixteen she felt the start of maturity settling in her bones. Most children, even girls, won’t feel such a call to grow up that fast yet a war changed all of that. She and her peers felt the pang of adulthood younger than most and it was the only way to survive the bloodshed. In the middle, she grew strong and sensible but tried her hardest to keep the warmth she was known for. If she lost her warmth then she lost him. She knew it; from the first second she knew he had left to join them, she knew it would be the only way he could return to her.
In the middle of the night, near the end of a great battle, their Renaissance came about. In the middle of a dark wood near a fortress of knowledge there was a mutiny. Theodore had power that others grew jealous of and jealousy caused hate caused rage caused curses to fly from the tips of threatening wands. She had been in the middle of a search for a great winged beast that had flown away in the middle of the battle and there it stood by his side so faithfully. Laura took the greatest care in bringing Theodore home, and though he seemed unable to stay awake to see her he knew that warmth.
Dreams that had not overwhelmed him for years overtook his mind and awoke him in the middle of the night feeling as if he was burning. “Laura…” he breathed, and she brought her right hand to his cheek. “Hi Theodore,” she replied softly while tilting her head to the right. His Laura, so much older and so much stronger, was still wearing pigtails with yellow ribbons in her hair.
It was the beginning again, and like before there was a birth of warmth in his cold heart that only she could’ve ever given to him.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Laura Madley/Theodore Nott
Prompt: 002. Middles
Word Count: 563
Rating: G
Summary: In the middle of all things, they return to what was their beginning.
Author's Notes: None
What he called the middle of their time she called their Renaissance. She said it was a re-birth more than anything, oh and didn’t he just love that word? He had grunted in reply and she was ecstatic that he agreed. He did, really he did. It made plenty of sense that what occurred in the middle was just a repeat of what happened in the beginning. History had a funny way of repeating it’s self.
Yet even if it had been a repeat that they had coming, it wasn’t as bright as the first time around. The first time around it was all yellow sundresses and childish giggles with her. The first time around, it was complete and utter sunlight drenching his previously cold heart and it was all quite... warm.
In the middle, when the cold had crept back into his heart trying to settle for good, it was a warmth that she brought but with a maturity that had astounded him. He recalled her as the child and it wasn’t enough to keep him from turning into what Notts turned into. Hatred took over no matter how hard he’d focus on the image of a girl in pigtails offering him sugar quills and chocolate frogs. Death ruled the heart that she had drenched with her natural light and in the middle…. All seemed quite lost for him.
She had to grow, from thirteen to eighteen, and somewhere in April of sixteen she felt the start of maturity settling in her bones. Most children, even girls, won’t feel such a call to grow up that fast yet a war changed all of that. She and her peers felt the pang of adulthood younger than most and it was the only way to survive the bloodshed. In the middle, she grew strong and sensible but tried her hardest to keep the warmth she was known for. If she lost her warmth then she lost him. She knew it; from the first second she knew he had left to join them, she knew it would be the only way he could return to her.
In the middle of the night, near the end of a great battle, their Renaissance came about. In the middle of a dark wood near a fortress of knowledge there was a mutiny. Theodore had power that others grew jealous of and jealousy caused hate caused rage caused curses to fly from the tips of threatening wands. She had been in the middle of a search for a great winged beast that had flown away in the middle of the battle and there it stood by his side so faithfully. Laura took the greatest care in bringing Theodore home, and though he seemed unable to stay awake to see her he knew that warmth.
Dreams that had not overwhelmed him for years overtook his mind and awoke him in the middle of the night feeling as if he was burning. “Laura…” he breathed, and she brought her right hand to his cheek. “Hi Theodore,” she replied softly while tilting her head to the right. His Laura, so much older and so much stronger, was still wearing pigtails with yellow ribbons in her hair.
It was the beginning again, and like before there was a birth of warmth in his cold heart that only she could’ve ever given to him.