title: always

summary: it was always you, and him, and moons and stars and a wolf - and a dog - and dorms and curtains and murmurs and bandaging up wounds that will not - that will mark. always. / freeverse.

notes: this was for the something other than freeverse, yes? challenge on hpfc. i may have... tweaked the challenge slightly! however, this week's prompt was to not use the letter 'e'. do you understand how difficult that is? well, nevertheless, here we are, and i hope you enjoy! (excuse the lack of capital letters. i was in that sort of mood.)


this is-

this is not a salvation.

darling, this is what I call pain. sacrificing him.

this is not a solution. it is a cost.

how can you say -

say that you would subsist happily without him.

that is not living. that is surviving. it is - dissimilar.

it is wrong.

your pack -

nothing without him, nothing without you.

just a stag. and a rat.

but two of you - just fighting. and loving. and dying. dog and wolf and harmony.

this is no survival, darling.

this is hanging onto nothing.

but now,

now you think your sirius is a traitor.

how... tragic.

this is no victory; this is a hardship fought with vanity and companionship and war and -

you would laugh. with him.

now, now child, all you know is that a traitor lurks in your midst and it could -

it could-

no. it couldn't-

yours. yours, always. from starts to- to this. stop. blink. gasp. cry.

it was always you, and him, and moons and stars and a wolf -

and a dog -

and dorms and curtains and murmurs and bandaging up wounds that will not -

that will mark. always.

stags say, stay away from him, moony, it will only hurt you-

rats sigh, and say to him, padfoot, you know how moony will always go. no writing. no kiss. (still, though, bloody. spoilt. chang-)

and you shout,

no! not him. wrong. you mutts-. you can't- bastards. why? why would you say not to trust him, i must trust him if i don't i'll go mad don't you know that-

and you say,

why him?

why not you?

it won't count. by that day - 31st, you think, all on your own in your prison, your hollow traitor is still living. "all i found was a-"

no. you know this particular story.

but still you think, not him.

you thought you lov- but no. that was - childish. a distraction.

now, you can't pay your bills and starvation is almost a comfort and your dingy flat is bliss in contrast to azkaban.

part of you is in that prison. rotting. half-mad. itching with passion and brutality running through your blood -

"always," you say.

and soon, nothing haunts you as much as a shack by hogwarts - dust and filth and wormtail, a ghost from your past, as living and traitorous as always.

you wrap your arms around him. cry through an apology that plays with staccatos and fortissimo and growing too loud.

that is not now, child. soon. but not now.

you will know to trust again. but in an infinity. an instant. who knows?

your myth, that of moony and padfoot and blood and so much pain, is living.

still living.

and this is only half of your story.