Title: In The Quiet of The Night
Challenge: Christmas Tree, Snow Challenge
Team: Death Eaters
Length: 3 X 100
A/N: Just a little drabble for Boxing Day. Not beta’d, just there.
Am I dead?
Is this the afterlife?
The words reverberate through his head, and he sits upright, gasping in fear and clutching at his throat.
In the dark room, he faces the window. Snow silently glides by in fat, lazily see-sawing flakes, and his heartbeat slows. His hand drops from the phantom wound that healed over ten years ago, and he lies back, wondering why he has dreamed of death again.
Because you were close enough to feel its cold fingers, and it will always be looking for the one that got away.
What that what happened? He ‘got away’?
He silently rises from his bed, wincing at the frigid stone floor beneath his bare feet. He gazes out the window into the snow with stunned gratitude. Every flake that falls, every rain drop that tattoos the ground, every sunbeam that casts its silvery moats into his office; each is an unexpected gift he never thought he would live to see.
In the window’s reflection he can see the room beyond, and the lovely Christmas tree draped with fairy lights and dozens of baubles. They look like soap bubbles, delicate and transitory, but this is an illusion. They are unbreakable.
There is a soft sound in the room, and he turns toward the curly-haired witch still sleeping in his bed. From here he can see the soft, graceful swell of her belly, and he is overwhelmed with the realisation that this is his life now, full of unasked-for gifts and unbreakable simplicity, and he no longer has to question why or if he deserves any of it.
Sometimes he feels as if he’s ‘gotten away’ with that as well.
He climbs back into his warm bed, next to his warm woman, and breathes in the life she has given him.