Summary: Ever since she was a little girl, Sansa has always loved to escape: into novels, songs, games of make-believe, and the high-fantasy world of Dungeons & Dragons. It's a way to leave life's difficulties behind for a little while, pretend to be someone else--someone strong, and free, and normal.
For Sandor Clegane, the only real connections he's been able to make have been through games, comic books, and online role-play; he can escape there, live life as the hero he's always wanted to be, instead of the gruff, scarred man that he is. When a group of meddlesome friends brings them together through the game they both love, can two scared, broken people find happiness with each other--both in and out of the game world? https://archiveofourown.org/works/20035618
A snippet from part four of my current WIP series, Time After Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Loud, insistent knocking jolts Fred awake, wand immediately draw as his gaze roams around the dark room, searching for the source of the noise. The door, he realises belatedly, blinking sleep from his eyes and swinging his feet over the side of the bed as his brain comes back online. Rushing to the door he yanks it open just as the man on the other side moves to knock again, nearly getting a pale fist to the face for his efforts.
“Malfoy?! What’re you doing here?” he asks in concerned confusion, blinking at the dishevelled blond and ushering him into the room. Draco looks worse than the last time he’d seen the younger man, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes and face sunken nearly to the point of gauntness.
Something in his eyes puts Fred on edge as he looks at the redhead, a sort of cautious desperation he’s never seen before. “I-I...fuck, Weasley, I wanted to, I tried but she, she wouldn’t—I couldn’t do anything, I swear!”
He’s babbling nervously, which only serves to heighten Fred’s nerves. “Spit it out, Draco! Why are you here?”
“It’s…” he closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. “It’s Granger. And the others, Potter and Ron, but...I’m here about her.”
“H-Hermione?”
Malfoy nods, running a hand through his already-tousled hair. “They were...picked up, by Snatchers—Greyback and his blokes; Granger did something to Potter’s face, I barely recognised him, but I knew, and...and I thought they would just, take them somewhere else, they would have been able to get away...but Bellatrix interrupted, she knew who they were from the Ministry and she—“ he stops abruptly, pale eyes shifting away from Fred, lips pressed tightly together.
“Tell me.” His voice comes out softer than intended, fear creeping through his veins threatening to strangle him, pulling the very breath from his lungs; it’s all he can do to get the words out, and Malfoy nods his understanding, meeting his gaze as he speaks again.
“She tortured her; Bellatrix did, I mean. Used Unforgivables on her, and...cut up her arm with a cursed dagger. I didn’t see exactly what she did, but your witch—she’s a bloody strong one, didn’t break even for a moment through all that. I nearly did, I wanted to jump in and stop it but she looked at me—you have to know, Fred, I would have stopped it in a second if she hadn’t looked at me like that.”
For a moment he can’t breathe, a heavy weight in his chest at the very thought of that evil woman’s hands on Hermione forcing the air from his lungs. Once it passes, however, he immediately jumps into action, pushing past Draco to shove bare feet into the first pair of beat-up trainers he can find.
“Where—“ his voice cracks on the word and he hastily clears his throat. “Where are they now?”
Draco shakes his head. “I don’t know; Mother bought me enough time to come here and tell you what happened, but they—the house elf, my father’s old one, he came and Apparated them away. They’re gone.”
Fred nods and steps forward, bringing a hand up to rest on Draco’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he says softly, “I know how hard that was, and how much you risked coming to me. Go back; protect your mother, keep yourself safe. I’ll find them.”
“Yeah...thanks, Weasley; see you soon.” He turns on his heel and Apparates away, leaving Fred alone to pace around the room.
“Dobby!”
A loud crack signals the elf’s arrival. “How can Dobby help Fred Weasley?”
“You took Harry, Ron, and Hermione somewhere tonight; can you bring me to them?”
Large eyes study him for a moment before Dobby reaches out a hand to tug on the sleeve of his sweater. “Come.”
The world spins quickly around Fred as they travel away from the small house, turning his stomach; when they land he nearly topples over, a wave of disorientation washing over him and leaving just as suddenly as it had arrived.
Looking around, Fred recognises where they’ve gone almost immediately, the stretch of the shore and gentle rolling waves familiar though it’s been a long time since his last visit. The whitewashed, shell-embedded walls of the house glimmer faintly in the sunrise, almost hauntingly beautiful, but it’s the figure standing near the door that draws his attention.
“Harry!” he yells, running towards the other wizard, Dobby completely forgotten on the beach behind him.
Hearing his name the bespectacled boy turns, green eyes widening as he catches sight of the frantic redhead. “Fred?! What are—how did you get here?”
“Dobby brought me; Malfoy told me what happened, is she—“ he stops, taking a calming breath and meeting Harry’s gaze. “Can I see her?”
“Can you hear me say your name–forever? Can you see me longing for you–forever? Would you let me touch your soul–forever? Can you feel me, longing for you–forever, forever?”
