#forslaughter

                            DO YOU STILL FEEL THE WISTFUL WAY THAT I DO? 

                𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 –––– 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚?

she didn’t sleep. she didn’t need to -- being dead, being some sort of ghost, an apparition {{ a figment of his imagination ?? }} meant that all the normal things that the living did, all those pesky, small things that people did daily -- like breathing, sleeping, eating -- weren’t necessary. gods she missed coffee though. 

she didn’t sleep, but he did, and when he was asleep, she was still there. she couldn’t leave, not really -- when she did, to give him privacy, to let him alone, it was more like she was in an -- empty space. a long white hallway. there were no doors in front of her, only one to where he was. 

he was restless tonight -- he was always restless, of course he was --- tossing and turning. he’d always had nightmares, ever since that night in godric’s hollow. and all she could do was sit here and watch him. that’s all she could ever do. 

“harry -- “ she whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder. at least he could feel her touch, that was something. only he could, only he could see her, hear her, talk to her, touch her. no one else acknowledged her, and how could they? 

she was dead. but not a ghost. 

       ❛  --  one would think the savior would have more pressing matters to attend to than babysitting the wife of a death eater on trial.  ❜   some time had passed since the dark lord’s defeat, and the ministry were finally addressing his followers apprehended after that fateful night at hogwarts. narcissa herself was on house arrest, but her husband was held somewhere awaiting what she can only speculate will be his execution. with a glass of imported wine in hand, narcissa graced him with a single glance over her shoulder.  ❛  why are you here, potter ? of all people ?  ❜

    There is something in his E Y E S. It’s a mysterious M A G I C and a haunting H E L L. There is something D I S T I N C T about his airy but wise A U R A. And perhaps it connects to the D O T S of that place. The place of I N V E R T E D playgrounds and D E C A Y I N G foliage. She cannot be certain, but he could be a S I G N. Things are not finished in that topsy-turvy hole, “Live here long?” She would be S C O L D E D for allowing a S T R A N G E R into this rustic residence ( but he needed directions!! ).

OKAY BUT does he get better cake is the question he has