#owls.

WHEN: Sunday, 7 February, 1979 WHO: John Dawlish ( @dohnjawlish ) & Marlene McKinnon

Hi. It’s Marlene. McKinnon. From the gym, and the Kestral. I hope this is the right John, because I realized yesterday I still don’t know your last name, but if it’s not, I’m sorry. And also, please tell me please so I can find the right John.

But if this is the right John, I have a question to ask you. If that’s alright, I mean.

SENTENCE STARTERS / accepting.

@mercysought​ said: ❝Love, for you, is more than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying.❞ from maxima to efraim about the priestess, and only because I couldn't think anyone else to say it about both of them I just love them

The words do not offend him, quite the contrary actually. In fact, it is almost as though she has at last put his more primitive feelings —from which this divine love stems— into words. Finally. In gratitude, he pays her a soft chuckle and a smile that reaches his eyes, a rare sight so far from The Priestess’s line of sight. 

❝ Terrifying indeed.❞ Even now, across the room and amidst the buzz, he finds her with ease once he raises his gaze. He could find her anywhere, and even afte all these years, he is still immediately hit with the urge to run to her each and every time. ❝ You give one person every key to your defenses. You hand them the power to bring you to ruin, and you do so willingly. And once you do, to take it back is nearly impossible.If they break your trust, you may never survive it. ❞

They have, of course, received similar reviews. The head of their ministry herself had said that there was no magic as powerful as that which Efraim shared with The Priestess. He never doubted it for a second. Buidling a family with her was as simple as bringing the pieces together, and falling in love with her and that life was as easy as breathing. To love someone this much, it is terrifying. And for that, it is the most prestigious blessing one could receive.

❝ You know, I believed in absolutely nothing before I met her, certainly not love. I only knew what I had seen as a boy, and what I had seen was not good. This life, our life, it was not even a dream I cared to have. And now, I would wither away in any other. She saved me, in more ways than simple healing spells. It was the first time I saw past myself. Loving her made me strong, strong enough to take in Harry and then Manala and then Blaise. To raise my boys, my daughter, in a home built on nothing but love? Something I was taught never to believe in ? My every fear lays wary , but my joy eclipses it all. Do you think you can love this way ? ❞ 

He turns back to her, still smiling. He asks not for her to answer him but to answer herself. It may not be today, but one day, she just might need to. ❝ I only hope my children are able to love like that. You know, Blaise, he came to us later. We had to break old habits, create new ones. I want to believe that we succeeded , but sometimes, I still see traces of a fear. Still, I have hope he will find his strength too, even if it does not look like mine. ❞

Though some days, he himself does not understand it, this miracle. He remembers being unable to stand in the same room together without bickering —or worse, not speaking at all. Now, they are more in love each day, and every moment spent together is done so with a palpable dedication. And it never gets old. He never gets tired. ❝ Will you find your brand of love? Or your brand of terrifying ? ❞

He thinks of his sons and what he’s tried to teach them, who he’s tried to be for their sake. He thinks of his daughter and all he’s devoted to her. All the things that could have torn him and the Priestess apart had been the things which had bound them together. Now, he knows that even if every single one of those ties fell away, the bond would remain. Loving her was in his nature, in his very DNA. It was what he was made to do. He wouldn’t know how to do anything else without it. He would become a stranger in his own body. He wishes it on no one and everyone.

@diaferon​ said: ❝You didn’t show up. I kept waiting.❞ from hermione to draco :)

Showing up here , he could admit , had been a gamble beyond gambles. She’s disappointed. Not angry , not vengeful , just disappointed. And that is so much worse. Because not only is she disappointed , she’s trying to hide the fact that she’s disappointed , and Draco would rather she deck him in the chin than look at him like that. Hopeful , understanding , as if she expects he has a really good explanation for having stood her up. One far better than simple FEAR. 

❛ I— ❜ But the words refuse to manifest upon his tongue , as if they themselves know how PATHETIC they sound. He moves the books —her books, the pages of which smelled enough like her in the beginning to keep him reading well into early morning hours until the scent began to fade , and even then , he finished them all— from one hand to other , trying to work out how to express to her what is going on inside his mind without scaring her. Or himself. 

But how do you tell the girl you tormented your entire life that you cannot be awake for even a moment without thinking of her ? How do you tell her that the moment you left her in front of that coffee shop , all you wanted to do was run after her ? How do you tell her that you missed her so much that you hated her , or yourself , because that thought alone was so loud that you feared it would wake your mother each night ? HOW ? 

The answer is that . . . you can’t. There is no way to say that without saying that , and Draco doesn’t know how to do either. And he opens his mouth to try , to genuinely try , but all that comes out is . . .

❛ You can call me Draco. ❜ He looks up , both surprised by his own words and eager to see her face , berating himself for wasting even a moment staring at the ground. He swallows hard , attempting to scrape up some bloody DIGNITY from deep in the bowels of his worn heart , but he has little luck. He tries to smile regardless.