Colossians 1:15-20. [15] “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. [16] For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. [17] And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. [18] And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. [19] For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, [20] and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.” (ESV)

“Who is greater than our God? No one. Christ reigns above all, and His Kingdom has no end.”

Amen and Hallelujah! 🙏🕊️🙌

Red earthenware tile fragment depicting Tristan (of Tristan and Isolde) holding a harp

Chertsey Abbey, England, late 13th century

(drarry, post-war, slow burn, complete, fully published on AO3!!!) Okay, I’m definitely posting more than one snippet from this chapter, I just love it too much, haha.

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Harry fell quiet, watching him in awe.

Draco’s hands flew up, covering his face. His whole body shook, and then came a sob so raw, so violent, Harry was certain the neighbours across the street could hear it.

Draco cried.

He cried like he had no choice, a force too powerful to overcome. Nothing, his will, his fists pressing against his eyes, nothing could dam the flood. The sound tore from him, guttural, unearthly, like a howl pulled straight from hell.

“Draco,” Harry breathed, horrified.

In a heartbeat, he lunged forward and crushed him in his arms. In twenty-five years, Harry had never seen Draco shatter like this: desperate, lonely, like a soul caught in a dementor’s grip. And suddenly it all made sense: the loneliness Harry had been drowning in these past days had never been his alone. The main, overwhelming part had been coming from Draco, suffering on his own.

Harry pressed frantic kisses to his temple, hating himself.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, wanting nothing more than to rip himself apart for causing this.

Two women invite a pair of swans to dinner in their caravan.

Chertsey, Surrey