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cosmicpretzelFor kiwikat11, who wanted trio fic :)
There are days that last forever.
The countryside that their feet tread daily spreads into infinity. Each mile blends so completely into the next that a distinction no longer matters. They could take a year’s worth, five years’ worth of days to climb these hills, and come no closer.
There are days that are hopeless.
They happen more and more frequently as time goes on. It’s always cold, raining, and the tent can barely keep it out. Lack of food, lack of sleep, lack of sanity are constant weights that drag them down. Suffocate them. But it’s all nothing compared to the sharp pang of guilt that stabs him when he takes note of the locket’s specifically destructive effect on Ron, or the dark circles that only continue to become more prominent under Hermione’s eyes.
This isn’t a burden that they should have to share. His burden.
There are days he wants to give up.
It’s an easy impulse to succumb to. Though branded with a mission, one of utmost importance, he has nothing else. No hand to guide him, no instructions, not even a map. Just a children’s book, a Snitch that won’t open, and a trinket that only serves as a reminder of what they can’t destroy. Of what’s still out there, lurking, that’s most likely impossible to find.
Voldemort has already won; the future has always been set in stone. The journey has always been futile.
But sometimes, there are days he remembers why they keep going. Days that provide small moments that creep up on him, pockets of light in a sea of darkness.
Days like today.
“Nothing’s changed, Harry,” Hermione whispers, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before relieving him to take her turn on the watch. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Ron somewhere nearby, shooting him a small, encouraging smile, back to his old self without that dose of poison.
These are the days he knows that he never really had a choice in the matter. Over the course of six years, they’ve been through everything together, the ups and the downs. They’ve been to hell and back, and they’re still standing. He couldn’t keep them away if he tried.
He stands just a little taller. His gaze into the distance is tempered with a renewed spark that had never been extinguished, only dormant. His resolve rises from the ashes, stronger than it’s ever been.
And he hopes.
kiwikat11, who wanted trio fic :)There are days that last forever.
The countryside that their feet tread daily spreads into infinity. Each mile blends so completely into the next that a distinction no longer matters. They could take a year’s worth, five years’ worth of days to climb these hills, and come no closer.
There are days that are hopeless.
They happen more and more frequently as time goes on. It’s always cold, raining, and the tent can barely keep it out. Lack of food, lack of sleep, lack of sanity are constant weights that drag them down. Suffocate them. But it’s all nothing compared to the sharp pang of guilt that stabs him when he takes note of the locket’s specifically destructive effect on Ron, or the dark circles that only continue to become more prominent under Hermione’s eyes.
This isn’t a burden that they should have to share. His burden.
There are days he wants to give up.
It’s an easy impulse to succumb to. Though branded with a mission, one of utmost importance, he has nothing else. No hand to guide him, no instructions, not even a map. Just a children’s book, a Snitch that won’t open, and a trinket that only serves as a reminder of what they can’t destroy. Of what’s still out there, lurking, that’s most likely impossible to find.
Voldemort has already won; the future has always been set in stone. The journey has always been futile.
But sometimes, there are days he remembers why they keep going. Days that provide small moments that creep up on him, pockets of light in a sea of darkness.
Days like today.
“Nothing’s changed, Harry,” Hermione whispers, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before relieving him to take her turn on the watch. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Ron somewhere nearby, shooting him a small, encouraging smile, back to his old self without that dose of poison.
These are the days he knows that he never really had a choice in the matter. Over the course of six years, they’ve been through everything together, the ups and the downs. They’ve been to hell and back, and they’re still standing. He couldn’t keep them away if he tried.
He stands just a little taller. His gaze into the distance is tempered with a renewed spark that had never been extinguished, only dormant. His resolve rises from the ashes, stronger than it’s ever been.
And he hopes.
