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Jun. 18th, 2003 08:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
person48:32-8:47. This one's really the result of me having Harry survive Voldemort's death in two of the past three snippets despite the fact that I not only don't think it'll happen, but I think I'll hate the ending of the last book if it does unless Voldemort's also still around, or at least hinted to be so.
Word: light
The thing he would always remember was the light, the same brilliant emerald of his eyes as he stood triumphant and the dark lord fell before him.
He would remember how Harry had turned and smiled at him, broad and real for the first time in years. How Percy’s heart felt almost as if it had sprouted wings and soared, the burden of the war on both of them suddenly evaporating as though it had never been. He remembered his mind racing, although he couldn’t remember what he’d thought of. Surely about how they’d finally be able to reveal their relationship to their loved ones, after having hid it all that time so Voldemort would never know he could be used against Harry. Definitely about how beautiful Harry looked now that he was finally free.
He remembered how Harry took a few steps toward him, eyes bright and beautiful, and then suddenly wide as he reached up and clutched his chest, stumbling forward to fall against Percy, entire body shaking.
“What’s wrong,” he ask, panic filling him where just a moment ago there’d been nothing but joy. “Harry, what’s wrong.
Harry’s hand had wrapped around his arm but his grasp had been light, far too light. He’d pulled his head away and looked up into Percy’s eyes, his own full of pain, tears streaking his cheeks. His other hand curled up over Percy’s shoulder, and with what seemed to be tremendous effort he raised his lips to Percy’s, the kiss butterfly light.
Percy remembered his lips had tasted like salt from his tears, remembered how he felt no soft breath against his face, remembered the heavy weight of Harry’s body as he suddenly slumped. He remembered catching him instinctively, then staring in horror as he’d realised his lover had died while kissing him and the pain rushed back into his heart more piercing then ever before.
He didn’t remember spending the night on the forest floor, body curled tightly around Harry’s cooling one as he begged him to return, insisted that he couldn’t just die like that, bribed him with love and threatened him with hatred, trying his best to drag his spirit home again. He didn’t remember Dumbledore arriving with Sirius and Hermione hours later, though he could vaguely remember them trying to pry him away and refusing to let go. He could almost remember the voice of the mediwitch as she told him that Harry had been so deeply connected to Voldemort that the dark lord’s death resulted in his own.
He remembered the light stinging his eyes when dawn broke and he looked up to see the sun rising in a blood red sky.
Word: light
The thing he would always remember was the light, the same brilliant emerald of his eyes as he stood triumphant and the dark lord fell before him.
He would remember how Harry had turned and smiled at him, broad and real for the first time in years. How Percy’s heart felt almost as if it had sprouted wings and soared, the burden of the war on both of them suddenly evaporating as though it had never been. He remembered his mind racing, although he couldn’t remember what he’d thought of. Surely about how they’d finally be able to reveal their relationship to their loved ones, after having hid it all that time so Voldemort would never know he could be used against Harry. Definitely about how beautiful Harry looked now that he was finally free.
He remembered how Harry took a few steps toward him, eyes bright and beautiful, and then suddenly wide as he reached up and clutched his chest, stumbling forward to fall against Percy, entire body shaking.
“What’s wrong,” he ask, panic filling him where just a moment ago there’d been nothing but joy. “Harry, what’s wrong.
Harry’s hand had wrapped around his arm but his grasp had been light, far too light. He’d pulled his head away and looked up into Percy’s eyes, his own full of pain, tears streaking his cheeks. His other hand curled up over Percy’s shoulder, and with what seemed to be tremendous effort he raised his lips to Percy’s, the kiss butterfly light.
Percy remembered his lips had tasted like salt from his tears, remembered how he felt no soft breath against his face, remembered the heavy weight of Harry’s body as he suddenly slumped. He remembered catching him instinctively, then staring in horror as he’d realised his lover had died while kissing him and the pain rushed back into his heart more piercing then ever before.
He didn’t remember spending the night on the forest floor, body curled tightly around Harry’s cooling one as he begged him to return, insisted that he couldn’t just die like that, bribed him with love and threatened him with hatred, trying his best to drag his spirit home again. He didn’t remember Dumbledore arriving with Sirius and Hermione hours later, though he could vaguely remember them trying to pry him away and refusing to let go. He could almost remember the voice of the mediwitch as she told him that Harry had been so deeply connected to Voldemort that the dark lord’s death resulted in his own.
He remembered the light stinging his eyes when dawn broke and he looked up to see the sun rising in a blood red sky.