(Emerald, if you want the link pm me an email address and I'll add you to the gdoc :D) (Well done guys, was an absolute pleasure creating this with you. I'll be in touch for any other group activities :D) (No beta action was taken and I think we all wrote exactly 25 words each time :D Check the first reply for the second part.) Word count: 921
Harry, like Hermione, loved the first day of school, but for a different reason. Books, the smell of parchment, and the sound of his schoolmates cheering for Gryffindor during quidditch games, made last spring seem like a distant memory. He still wasn’t sure about returning for 8th year, but there was a distinct feeling of 'not ready' wafting threateningly throughout his year. As if by not completing their previous school year, they were behind somehow. Everyone seemed determined to do their best and to make this year count, though Harry couldn't tell how much of that determination came from it being their last year. He knew he should by some miracle be ready to take on the life of an adult after this year.
Though his lack of anger when he saw Malfoy—or any of the Slytherins—showed him how much he had already matured, he still felt like child. Even worse was feeling that the professors expected him to have a complete mental breakdown. At least once a day, Harry was asked if everything was ‘okay,’ like he might shatter at any moment. Well, he was great, thanks – Quidditch season was just around the corner and no madman was out to kill him. He felt free for the first time in his life. He just wished that everyone would leave him alone, though. He remembered fondly how he had spent the last few weeks at the Burrow. Molly had invited him right after the war, but he had his family to take care of.
Harry was surprised to find Malfoy had returned as well. When Malfoy looked up and caught Harry watching him, he didn’t look away. Instead, he raised his glass of pumpkin juice in salute and drank, before turning to talk to Pansy.
“Did Malfoy just recognise your existence?” Hermione asked, eyes hawk-like above her hovering spoonful of stew. “And without being snide? We must be growing up if you two are able to actually be polite to each other. I'm glad, though. We've all been through too much to still keep fighting over silly things."
He thought Hermione might be onto something, but he wasn’t sure whether growing-up was such a good thing to do. It seemed awfully boring. He missed the adventure of their previous years over the summer, even though he was finally free. He felt goalless and lost without someone out to kill him.
Tired of feeling this way, he sought out the Mirror of Erised’s hiding place. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to take one last look, to see if he was still pining for the same, impossible future after all this time. Or maybe the war had brought closure, a new beginning, free of the turmoil of his past. He remembered Dumbledore's words as he walked up to stand in front of the mirror and he closed his eyes before even taking his first look. “I must not forget to live”, he thought with a smile. Slowly he raised his eyelids and his mouth dropped at what he saw. A family—his family—as to be expected, but one he’d never imagined. It was Malfoy holding their baby, long fingers stroking the curly white-blond hair as Malfoy’s lips moved. With no sound, it took Harry a moment to realize Malfoy was actually singing softly to the child.
He materialised in the mirror, his smile fond and his fingers brushing familiarly at Malfoy's nape, and he couldn't help thinking, wondering, in fact, at how happy he looked as he looked fondly at Malfoy and at their child. And then Malfoy turned and looked at him. He would have never imagined grey eyes could warm up that much. The smile that stole it’s way onto Malfoy’s face was a sight he’d never thought to imagine.
Shocked he ran from the room and into Malfoy on the stairs, knocking them both down in the process. Harry tried to untangle himself as quickly as possible, but strong arms held him down.
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Date: 2013-09-08 02:46 pm (UTC)(Emerald, if you want the link pm me an email address and I'll add you to the gdoc :D)
(Well done guys, was an absolute pleasure creating this with you. I'll be in touch for any other group activities :D)
(No beta action was taken and I think we all wrote exactly 25 words each time :D Check the first reply for the second part.)
Word count: 921
Harry, like Hermione, loved the first day of school, but for a different reason. Books, the smell of parchment, and the sound of his schoolmates cheering for Gryffindor during quidditch games, made last spring seem like a distant memory. He still wasn’t sure about returning for 8th year, but there was a distinct feeling of 'not ready' wafting threateningly throughout his year. As if by not completing their previous school year, they were behind somehow. Everyone seemed determined to do their best and to make this year count, though Harry couldn't tell how much of that determination came from it being their last year. He knew he should by some miracle be ready to take on the life of an adult after this year.
Though his lack of anger when he saw Malfoy—or any of the Slytherins—showed him how much he had already matured, he still felt like child. Even worse was feeling that the professors expected him to have a complete mental breakdown. At least once a day, Harry was asked if everything was ‘okay,’ like he might shatter at any moment. Well, he was great, thanks – Quidditch season was just around the corner and no madman was out to kill him. He felt free for the first time in his life. He just wished that everyone would leave him alone, though. He remembered fondly how he had spent the last few weeks at the Burrow. Molly had invited him right after the war, but he had his family to take care of.
Harry was surprised to find Malfoy had returned as well. When Malfoy looked up and caught Harry watching him, he didn’t look away. Instead, he raised his glass of pumpkin juice in salute and drank, before turning to talk to Pansy.
“Did Malfoy just recognise your existence?” Hermione asked, eyes hawk-like above her hovering spoonful of stew. “And without being snide? We must be growing up if you two are able to actually be polite to each other. I'm glad, though. We've all been through too much to still keep fighting over silly things."
He thought Hermione might be onto something, but he wasn’t sure whether growing-up was such a good thing to do. It seemed awfully boring. He missed the adventure of their previous years over the summer, even though he was finally free. He felt goalless and lost without someone out to kill him.
Tired of feeling this way, he sought out the Mirror of Erised’s hiding place. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to take one last look, to see if he was still pining for the same, impossible future after all this time. Or maybe the war had brought closure, a new beginning, free of the turmoil of his past. He remembered Dumbledore's words as he walked up to stand in front of the mirror and he closed his eyes before even taking his first look. “I must not forget to live”, he thought with a smile. Slowly he raised his eyelids and his mouth dropped at what he saw. A family—his family—as to be expected, but one he’d never imagined. It was Malfoy holding their baby, long fingers stroking the curly white-blond hair as Malfoy’s lips moved. With no sound, it took Harry a moment to realize Malfoy was actually singing softly to the child.
He materialised in the mirror, his smile fond and his fingers brushing familiarly at Malfoy's nape, and he couldn't help thinking, wondering, in fact, at how happy he looked as he looked fondly at Malfoy and at their child. And then Malfoy turned and looked at him. He would have never imagined grey eyes could warm up that much. The smile that stole it’s way onto Malfoy’s face was a sight he’d never thought to imagine.
Shocked he ran from the room and into Malfoy on the stairs, knocking them both down in the process. Harry tried to untangle himself as quickly as possible, but strong arms held him down.