b r a v e

[ophiiiuchus-deactivated20181206]

hand reaches out to grasp his wrist, and while the initial grip is firm, it soon loosens-- even if everything in you is desperately crying out to cling to him, to hold him tightly. "can you just-- please, don't leave me alone today. just stay, please." ( heeehh listen i Had to bc them anniversary feeeellsss // forttem )

YOU   ARE   TIGHT   WOVEN   STRING   /       metal   prongs   which   dig     deep     and   carve     whole     the   way   you   wield   words   like   weapons   until   they     shatter     against   bone ,   and   you   are   left   with   the   remnants   of   hearts   beating     selflessly     upon   stone   edges ,   mountain   curves .              wings   which   hum   in   midnight   shades ;   you   regret   ever     rising     to   leave              (      regret   the   way   you   twist   actions   into   unrecognisable   shades   when   he   has   been   anything ,     everything ,     you   have   ever   hoped   him   to   be     ) . 

feel   his   fingers   upon   your   wrist   like   a     brand ,        (    like   the   yew   which   pressed   into   forearm   as   though   it   were   wax   upon   flame ,   searing   through   blood   without   pause     ) ,       you     wonder     if   this   is   what   it   feels   like   to   fly   after   falling ,   drink   after   burning .               and   his   words   leave   you   tattered   frame ,   wood     splintering     along   it’s   bends   as   though   completeness   were   a   temporal   form   of   state ,   you   know   what   it   feels   like   to   exist   in     parts ,     to   separate   rib   from   spine     and   nerve   from   skull   if   only   to   emulate     drowning      (    you   think   this   feels   more   like     bleeding     ) . 

instead   you   sigh .     feel   your   heart   ache   crimson   wreckage   at   the   embalm   of   his   words   and     swallow     your   pride   down   in   echoes   of   its   flow .               turn   to   clasp   his   hand     gently     between   the   warmth   of   your   palms   and   run   your   thumbs   along   his   skin         (    because   you     love     with   a   ferocity   that   leaves   you   breathless ,   see   the   lines   which   connect   his   eyes   to   action   and   thought   to   bone   and   you   will     ──       protect     him ,   for   as   long   as   he   deems   it   necessary ,   for   as   long   as   he   names   you     soul     ) .               situate   yourself   beside   him   even   as   your   fingers     slide     through   the   ribbons   of   his   hair ;   you     ──        frown ,       ❛   that   was   thoughtless   of   me ,   i   apologise .   my   colleagues   are   more   than   capable   of   surviving   without   me   for   the   day .  ❜ 

feel   your   expression     soften     as   you   lean   back ,   murmur ,     ❛  forgive   me   ?   ❜        before   you   open   your   arm   in   invitation   if   only   for   him   to   fall   into . 

@forttem

[nedjemmm-art]

(look at Draco’s eyelashes !!!)

[ophiiiuchus-deactivated20181206]

“you okay?” ( forttem )

THERE   IS   AN   OCEAN   BETWEEN   YOU   /     between   the   bones   which   settle   heavily   beneath   your     skin     like   the   weight   of   sins   you   never   had   the   hope   of     carrying     and   the   memories   choke   you   liquid   stream ,   poison   oak   which   rests   upon   your   tongue   like   a     bruise ,     pushing   against   your   teeth   until   you   cannot   speak ,   cannot   breathe ,   cannot   wake .         cannot     reach     for   the   things   which   once   raised   you   ashen   born   flame       ────         instead   you     sink .         fall .          silken   husk   which   only   knows   the   echoes   of   endings . 

because   you   cannot     face   him     without   the   thoughts   gripping   you   molten ,   chasing   you   nightmare   formed     scream     that   lingers   in   the   spaces   between   walls   and   threatens   to   force   the   breath   from   your   very   lungs .           the     ink     from   your   very   skin           (    and   it   is     branded     between   your   seams   like   thread   winding   through   fabric   as   though   it   held   the   secret   of     beginnings ,     and   you   want   it     gonegonegone ;          but   it   slithers   in   the   dawns   waking   like     insects     rushing   through   bloodied   veins   for   a   taste   of   life   you   have   long   since   lost   the   will   of   holding     ) 

you   stare   at   the   horizon   as   finger   nails     dig     into   the   edges   of   its   shape ,   the   memories   which   lay   candlelight   across   the   expanse   of   your     bones     until   you   are   numb   with   the   chill   of   air ,   sensation   of     snakes     within   the   marrow   of   your   spine ;   you   wonder   how   you   ever   thought   yourself   worthy   of   his   speaking .            loving .            breaking             (        lips   and   fingertips      ────      you    ache     for   everything   you   have   lost       ) 

because   he   is   unreachable .           untouchable .         when   crimson     drips     from   the   lines   of   your   palms   and   memories     seep     from   the   hum   of   your   sleep   like   flowers   set   to   rot   before   winters   end ,   you   think   he   is   summer   born ,   spring   bred       ────       you     wonder     how   he   can   he   touch   ice   and     burn .          your   face   shifts .           even   as   you   raise   knees   to   chin   and   wrap   arms   around   their   spaces .     it   is   a   petty   cushion ,   a   comforting     sneer , 

        funny   how   you’ve   always   known   exactly   which   knife   to   twist . 

❛   worried   about   me ,   potter   ?    don’t   you   have   more     important     things   to   concern   yourself   with   ?   like   saving   cats   from   murderous   trees ,   or   stopping   first   years   from   choking   on   their     pumpkin   juice .   ❜  

           and   what   you   mean.  is ,   ‘  stay  ’ .           what   you   mean   is ,   ‘  there   is   a   hole   in   my              chest   and   my   hands   are   not   strong   enough              to   close   it   without   the   aid   of   your   own .   i              have   tried   to     bleed     but   the   red   runs   ink-like ,           runs   blackened   stain   ,   in   the   days   that   fade              to   years ,   and   the   sins   which   shift   to   wounds ,              and     ───  ’

what   you   mean   is , 

‘  i   owe   you   my     life .  ’

@forttem     |     meme

[prefectdracomalfoy]

he’s just a boy.

[blvnk-art]

sketching long haired auror Harry during a mission

[potionsmasters]

someone: *complains about Harry and the way he was in OotP*

me: Very Interesting. truly. tell me more. in fact, tell me about the time you as a 15 year old had a breakdown over something that was not even half as traumatizing as what harry went through. i even brought a tiny violin just for this conversation, so I can play it while you tell me how a child, who had to endure pain that would break most adults, should’ve dealt with his PTSD in addition to all the other shit. please. do continue. i’m Listening

[fred-erick-frankenstein]

Let’s form a “Protect Harry Potter squad”

[something-mad-and-harry]

It’s really funny to me how people hate him in OotP because that’s when I started really loving him.

[pazithigallifreya]

There are a lot of people who’s taste in fiction seems to be predicated on either “aesthetic"  and/or how attractive they find a character, or on how idealized/perfect a character is. Characters that are too human, or unattractive in some fashion, or somehow flawed, suddenly become All Things Terrible and Awful™.

Makes me wonder how they hell they maintain any kind of friendships or relationships in real life….

[thedreamermusing]

Let’s also not forget the people who think Harry was incompetent, dumb and lazy. I have literally heard people say stupid shit like “If I were Harry, I’d be reading up on spells and training 24/7.” Like really? Homework is homework. You’re not suddenly going to be some model student just because you’ve got magic.

Most of them wouldn’t be able to deal with the stress of what Harry had to endure as adults; forget doing it at 15 with a limited support system.

[potionsmasters]

This, this, this. AND did everyone forget that Dumbledore abandoned Harry when Harry needed him the most? Harry’s mentor, the one Harry loved like a grandfather? Harry got shit from the Dursleys, from the Ministry of Magic, was painted as insane and a lying asshole by the media and society believed it. The amount of shit he had to endure under Umbridge’s reign, having to do lines with the Blood Quill, cutting a sentence into his skin over and over again. Did people just forget all that? He’s 15 for God’s sake. He had no one to protect him at Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione don’t count because they’re children as well. And of course he wasn’t going to learn Occlumency, the kid’s emotions very all over the place. Although he wasn’t that bad either, Snape said it himself. And yes, he made a mistake, one that cost Sirius’ life, but he also managed to be an amazing teacher for the students who needed help. The people who are acting superior to him because they think he’s ‘irrational’ and ‘stupid’ - how about you take a seat, and use your last 4 working brain cells to actually think about just how bad Harry’s life was at the time. 

[forttemarchive]

❛ the heavens burn for you and i. ❜ ( I know I don't have a blog but this is from gellert to Albus )

hi fuck im fINE  //  @ophiiiuchus 

      there is a pounding against your chest– heart seems to come to life again at words spoken, such a purity to them, something you feel reaching into every part of you. every fear, every darkened part that whispers, telling you that all your goals and dreams will now be wasted– they are all stamped out with these few words.   send back to the farthest corners of your mind.   and instead, what comes to the forefront is GELLERT. in astounding colour, with such clarity. he stands among the wreck and reminds you just how often you REBUILD, how easily you piece together broken pieces. 

  ( because it has never been that he is stronger than you, he does not control you, does not use you. he is the MIRROR reflecting back the strongest parts of you, reminding you of exactly who you are. ) 

 you swallow, take a beat to remember how to breathe–  wonder how it has become that so quickly, you breathe for him, would live for him. 

smile as you nod and allow fingers to link with his as they trace patterns across skin.  squeeze with a firmness, a sureness that his words are true, are completely without doubt. 

   “they will.” grin spreads wider as you look up at him, dare to let that courageous, battle ready heart POUND– would let it leap from your chest if you could, if only to show him how strong it works for him.  “they will burn for us and from the ashes we will make it better.” 

[waitingforthefireflies]

Happy Birthday, Toby Finn Regbo! (18 October 1991)

[hp-rbiim]

4 & 5 out of 7 (auror partners and slicked back hair) (1&2) (3)

[forttemarchive]

You glare . Fists clenched beside you ; agony a distant hum as you allow anger to unfold throughout your skin , ‘ no , you don’t understand , how could you ? ‘ you sneer , ‘ I HAVE to marry her , harry . My family expects it of me . ‘ ( you know what au ;D )

g o d d a m n i t  //  @ophiiiuchus 

       as you look at him, you can’t help the sympathy you feel swell in your chest– how it dares to reach out, wants to cover him in adoration, shield him from this vicious world he has found himself a part of.

  ( a world that takes and takes, expects EVERYTHING while giving NOTHING in return. ) 

  you wonder how someone who shines as bright as him could ever be captured– could ever be pushed down beneath layers and layers of lies until the brilliant shine is long forgotten.   –how could they do that to him? 

 but you know providing your sympathy gets nowhere. he’d only spit it back at you anyway. in the short time you’ve known him, you have come to learn that if there is one thing that draco needs– it’s affection, not your saddened glances. 

  ( your chipped heart will do nothing for him. ) 

 so instead of speaking, you reach out for tightly clenched hands– weave your way through until fingers are linked.   wish that you could have the same hold on his heart, on his life. wish you ever stood a chance beyond what you have here, on this boat, in this slice outside of the universe– this momentary break from reality.  

   “fine– maybe i don’t understand, maybe i never will. and maybe this fucking horrible fate will happen– maybe i’m not strong enough to find a way to stop it. but why does that mean you can’t be happy NOW?” 

[ophiiiuchus-deactivated20181206]

"it's not just a normal mirror, draco." voice distinctly quiet in comparison to the fire it held only moments ago. you now stand with a softness to your posture, and your heart seems to pound against your chest. "it's enchanted. it shows the person before it their truest desire." ( forttem )

YOU   ARE   BREATHLESS   WITH   ASH   BORN   SMOKE   /      scent   of   anger   bled   passion   that   does   not     dissipate     from   the   echo   of   your   lungs   until   the   words   lay   siege   to   all   that   is   left   beneath   the   rubble ;   his   fire   is   the   only   coherent     string     in   a   world   which   shifts   you   molten ,   transmutes   you   poison     bone ,     like   scars   left   upon   forearm   in   a   miasma   of   ink   and   pain .     it     drips     with   every   motion ,   curls   with   every   breath .     his   flames   bring   you   clarity   to   the   breaking ,   to   the   remnants   of   choice   and   shame .     the   way   you   meet   chest   to   chest   and   palm   to   palm   and   vein   to   vein   until   the   past     recedes     beneath   the   future   and   you   are   left     gasping     for   everything   he   has   become . 

you   feel   nauseas .     his   words   gouging   holes   through   the   soul   you   have   fortified   with   ice   and   brick ,   wand   and   spell ,   and   it   cracks   you     open     like   clouds   upon   moon   bends   laying   waste   to   all   which   separates   its   path .     because   he   is   the     home     you   have   suppressed   beneath   houses .     the     love     you   have   spread   upon   hate .     the   implications   collect   within   your   throat   and   leave   you   choking ,   leave   you   silence   in   a   sea   of   noise     begging     for   the   melody   which   always   had   the   ability   to   keep   you   grounded .     you   ignore   the   way   your   heart   bursts   crystal   rain ,   the   way   it     aches     beneath   your   ribs   if   only   to   jump   beneath   his   own . 

sniff ,   a   defensive   state .     ❛    well ,    ❜   you   drawl ,   ❛    obviously     it’s   broken .   surely   i   should   be   seeing   myself   as   an   esteemed   potions   master ,   not   ──  ❜ 

                                               (    ──     you    )

and   yet   your   voice   is     faint     with   the   pounding ,   tune   of   war   drums   throughout   your   mind   because   you   look     closer ,     fall   deeper ,   string     tighter     as   the   image   of   harry   smiles   at   you   with   an   adoration   you   know   in   your     bones ,     the   very   depth   of   your   spine ,   how   you   stood   and   stared   madness   in   the   face   as   lies   spilled   from   your   lips   in   a   bid   to   keep   him   breathing ,   your   heart   beating ,   his   soul     turning .      you   would   do   it   again .     over   and   over   if   only   to   ensure   his   safety ,   how   you     ache     for   his   eyes ,   the   gaze   which   never   leaves   your   form .     the   way   his   hand     stretches     around   your   own   as   though   it   were   ends   forming   circles   beneath   the   horizon   and   you   are     breathless     before   the   force   of   your   wanting .     the   emptiness   of   knowing   your   palm   is   not     warm    like   the   reflection   you   so   desperately   wish   to   become . 

it   is   a   gripping   toll .     nails   which     sink     into   the   seams   your   skin   and   force   liquid   from   the   curve   of   your   eyes   you     ──       swallow .     push   it   down   to   conceal   your   pride   because   how   could   he   want   you   when   he   has   a   world   laid   out   for   the   taking ,   eternity   from   which   to     feed .      and   you   are     (     ──    a   shadow   within   the   distance     /     a     memory     from   which   to   learn     ) 

you    straighten     your   back .     take   a   step   away   before   speaking   stiffly ,    ❛  not   that   this   hasn’t   been     lovely ,     but   i’m   afraid   i’m   going   to   have   to   cut   this   short ,   potter .   i   forgot   i   promised   mother   i   would   write   to   her   this   evening   you   see ,   and   she   does   get     terribly     worried .   i   ──   ❜ 

pause .     catch   a   final   glimpse   of   the   greatest   dream   you   have   ever   known     (     a   desire   which   has   you   shaking   with   the   need   to   hold   and   have   like   gods   of   old   decimating     skies     if   only   to   cup     hearts     beneath   their   ribs   and   call   it   love ;   call   it   hope ;   call   it     whole     ) .      you   turn   towards   the   door . 

whisper ,   ❛  excuse   me .  ❜

@forttem

[forttemarchive]

babe·:

EYES   NARROW   AS   HE   MOVES   /      as   cakes   are   placed   out   of   the   lining   of   your   reach   and   you    clamp     down   upon   the   urge   to   huff ,   to   mould   your   lips   into   a     pout     if   only   to   show   him   the   depths   of   your   suffering ,   distinct     edge     of   your   need .     pride   is   a   fickle   thing ,   yet   you   wear   it   well ,     curve     it   moonshine ,   the   seams   of   it   sit   beside   the   devotion   you   so   attribute   to   his   stride ,   to   the   way   he     settles     upon   your   skin   like   belonging ,   like   adoration   made     true .      your   palms   rise   to   sit   along   his   thighs ,   thumbs   brushing   the   fabric   of   his   jeans .

you     smile .      sharp   and   untamed ,   like   the   piece   of   you   which   rises   to   his   challenge ,   the   way   you   have   never   been   able   to   resist   the   heady   thrum   within   your   blood ,   synching   version   of   your   heart   beats ,   subtle   melody   of   your   ribs .     rise   up   and     dip     your   eyes   down   to   trace   the   contours   of   his   lips ,   the   shape   of   his   jaw   you   wish   to      (     ──     drag   your     teeth     along   the   wave   of   neck ,   twist   of   his   ear ,   the   slice   of   his   chest    ) .       the   way   silver   strands   ripple     forward     as   you   bump   your   nose   softly   against   his   own ,   the   way    your   breath   hits   his   skin   as   though   it   were   flame   born ,   golden   burnt ;   you     wet     your   lips ,   look     up     and    ──

pull   back .     feel   your   hair   fan     out     as   you   rest   your   head   against   the   sofa ,   as   amusement     prickles     along   the   echo   of   your   blood   like   bubbles   upon   rock   torn   lakes   prepared   to     sink ;     you     tilt     your   head .       (     neck   curved   like   tree   branches   swaying   gently   through   the   breeze ;   you     wonder     if   he   is   flight   or   fall ,   sky   or   sea     )

drawl ,      ❛   surely   you   can’t   expect   me   to     starve ,    dearest   ──    all   because   you   want   a    kiss     ?   ❜ 

raise   the   back   of   your   palm   to   your   forehead   and   whisper ,     ❛   i   feel   fainter   by   the   minute .   i   couldn’t     possibly     waste   the   energy   i   have   left   on   you .  ❜

@forttem    |     here 

     even as you hold your position above him, you couldn’t feel any WEAKER than in that moment-- when sharp eyes sink into you. when his very aura seems to pulse-- parts of him reaching out, entangling with your sense and causing your strength to diminish, to soften. 

( he has ALWAYS been a master at these games. you play your part well. always give a good fight. but even if you win in the end, there is mastery in his movements. and you are utterly CAPTIVATED in watching it. ) 

  hands tremble in their hold on his shirt before SQUEEZING tightly-- before you lean in closer, suddenly so DESPERATE for anything he could give, for the price of a kiss that was laid down in humour, but now longed for.  

 --head is left spinning as he pulls away, as you feel the floor YANKED from beneath you and you cannot help the way you groan as you give in to the weakness coursing through you. as arms give out and you press against him, head buried into his neck and a playful BITE is left upon skin. 

    “you little shit, draco.” mumble against him before hand slide down to a firm hold at his hips and you lift back up again-- green eyes now DARKENED, boring into his own.  “give me what i want, and you KNOW you’ll get yours too.” smirk ever so slightly as you push up further, run a hand through your hair before you look across and reach out with the other one.   sweet icing is scooped up onto your finger before being brought down again, pressing to the edge of his lip. “c’mon, is it really THAT difficult?” 

[forttemarchive]

' Harry Potter , did you buy me a sex toy? ' ( LISTEN I READ THIS IN A FIC AND CRACKED UP )

g u ys  //  @ophiiiuchus  

      eyes widen quickly and you suddenly feel CAUGHT– don’t even need to turn around from your place at the stove to know that he has already appear in the kitchen and his eyes now burn into your back.   nervously, you bite upon your lip– cheeks slightly FLUSHED before you force yourself to stand a little straighter and finally turn and face him. 

  an attempt at a playful, cocky smile comes to your lips as you look him up and down before shrugging.   “maybe. is something the matter, babe? don’t you think you can handle it?” 

[forttemarchive]

' screw you , potter . '

g u y s  //  @ophiiiuchus  

  “maybe later,” grin fills lips as your eyes practically sparkle with the lightness you feel swelling inside of you– a playfulness that only HE seems capable of bringing out in your nowadays.

     ( a reminder of something that once was. a closeness, once shared– delicate in palms too young to realise the fragile nature of the very thing they held. crushed all too soon, only leaving dust to float in the air and tingle noses every so often. NOSTALGIA blooming. ) 

 “but right now, we have work to do. c’mon, stand up straighter and we’ll go again. i’m sure you’ll be able to land a hit this time.” 

[forttemarchive]

[ text ;; harry ] ✔️ Read at 11:40.

r00d  //  @ophiiiuchus 

[ text ;; Draco 🐍💚 ] You know what, I’m not even surprised at this level of pettiness, you complete princess. [ text ;; Draco 🐍💚 ] Fine, be a brat. See if I care. [ text ;; Draco 🐍💚 ] I’m gonna eat all the brownies I made. Screw you. 

[forttemarchive]

‘ I won’t be your pawn . I won’t be anyone’s pawn ever again , harry . ‘ a pause before you approach , ‘ if I’m to do this we are to be equals . ‘ ( FOR DARK LORD HARRY )

@ophiiiuchus​  

       fingers drum against the arm of the chair and for a moment, you are cast back– a boy on the run, thrown into a world of even more expectations. the war is raging on, and people around you seem to be falling every day, losing. all while you wander deserted towns, cold forests, old haunts. desperate for a way to win, but feeling as though you may CRUMBLE to fragmented pieces beneath the weight of everyone’s desires. all they want and protect onto you. 

( you are the chosen one, harry. we fight for more than you, but we expect the world from you. be our hero, finally be everything you’ve wanted to be. but do it now, hurry, we’re dying while you try. ) 

  fingers continue to tap, and the bracelet on your wrist feels cold, has done for a while now and you wonder if he still WEARS his.   haven’t felt the rhythmic tapping in so long now, haven’t pieced together coded press of fingers to find words and messages.    

( you have MISSED his presence above all else. in your grief, in your utter collapse under the weight of your losses, there was a further emptiness where his love, where his warmth and company should have been. but you have always been your own worst enemy, pushing at the people you need most. ) 

  gaze finally lifts, shifting over his form once more and you allow ghost of a smile to curl up lips before you release a gentle huff– hand comes up to gesture for him to step closer.   

( heart cries out, begs for his to be pressed against yours. for him to be wrapped in your embrace. SAFE. right here. ) 

  “you’ll never be a pawn again, draco. i can promise you that. i am not like him– i never could be.”  breath released, and body sinks further into the chair for a moment before you sit up straighter, posture open as you lean forward and out stretch hand for him.  you long for him to be at your side, for him to always be safe with you, to be able to protect him and keep him from harm. 

 because you REFUSE to lose anyone else that you love, refuse to see him hurt– used, twisted and turned for someone else’s benefit. he has seen TOO MUCH dark, has been so abused by manipulative powers that do not deserve to touch his light.  you will fight till the end to protect him, to shield him from all of that. this time, you will not fail.  

                                     DRACO WILL BE SAFE WITH YOU. 

  “you’re so much more than he ever realised. i don’t underestimate you, draco. i know what you’re capable of and i NEED you at my side. not just for your power but–”  pause as throat tightens and you feel your heart thump in your chest– all you feel for him overflowing, spilling through the cracks and you could DROWN HIM in your love even though you are supposed to be holding him in gentle hands.    “i need you. you could never be a pawn, you mean too much for that.” 

[forttemarchive]

ophiiiuchus·:

YOU   RESUME   THE   STEADY   MOTION   OF   YOUR   HAND   /    the   twist   of   fingers   in   hair   as   you   attempt   to     breathe .      to   clear   the   anger   from   your   bones   settling   like   bitter   fire   within   your   blood   and   you   are     worshipped     for   your   name ,   the   clothes   upon   your   back ,   and   the   hair   above   your   spine   and   you   feel   helpless   before   his   pain     (   ──     the   agony   caused   by   those    lesser     than   he   ). 

because   he   is     sunlight     through   gravestone   cracks   setting   the   earth   aflame .   it   shifts   into   clouds   of   ash   and   you   are     powerless     before   the   falling ,   drifting ,   unable   to   capture   the   segments   of   their    tearing .     lips   curl     down     as   brows   furrow   and   you   cannot   help   the   way     disgust     tints   your   bones   nightshade ,   liquid   love   build   upon   rocky   foundations ;   you     wish     you   could   offer   him   haven ,   safe   sanctuary   upon   which   to   lay    (    it   grits   you   carbon ,   twists   you   holly   curve   ──    )

❛   my   apologies .   you’re   right ,  ❜   you   say   flatly ,   ❛   how     generous     of   them   to   give   you   a   cupboard   to   sleep   in ,   you     must     send   them   my   gratitude   sometime .  ❜

purse   lips   as   you   lower   hand ,   a     hesitant     trace   of   fingertips   over   the   length   of   his   skin   before   you   entwine   them   together ,   a   twist    of   bone   and   blood   and   you   know   you   should   not   be   so    snide     in   your   words ;   streak   poison   through   mouth   like   thorn   burnt   lakes ,   and   yet   ── 

you     sigh ,   shake   your   head ,   ❛    merlin ,    harry .   you   wouldn’t   even   dream   of   treating   a   child   that   way ,   so   why   is   it   okay   for   them   to   do   that   to     you     ?   ❜

      sigh escapes parted lips before you close mouth again, bit lip between teeth and suck harshly-- attempt to steady breathing. even close your eyes in order to find a sense of calm.   because he could not POSSIBLY understand-- and you do not resent him for it at all, could never. but it is always difficult to make people see your way of thinking, to make them understand when they stand on the opposite side of this, see only their world that they claim is normal. 

   fingers lace without hesitation. because even in your frustrations, you will never hold it against him-- are thankful that he does not understand. that he hasn’t suffered this specific fate. 

( you can handle it. you’ve learned to deal with it, bury it. you HATE that this is how your life went, but since you can’t change it-- where is the point in wearing the pain on your sleeve for all the see? especially when seeing it makes them so uncomfortable. ) 

  “i’ve never said it’s okay.” voice is weak, exhausted already because-- this has been your life. this is simply, the way it is for you. it’s not okay, could never be okay. but it’s the best you’ve got. “but i make do. there’s-- draco there is no changing this. not until im seventeen and the trace breaks and i find my freedom and--”  not until HE is vanquished. not until i am safe in the magical world again. until then, this pain and suffering is it’s own twisted safety. “i have to stay there. there’s nothing else right now. it’s how it has to be. and it really is only for such a short time now-- a few months a year, it’s nothing in comparison to what it used to be. i can handle it. there’s no use in you getting annoyed about it, alright?”