Room

The room was quiet. I expect every room of the castle was quiet – except perhaps the infirmary. I stumbled into the common room blindly and numbly the moment I couldn't stand watching tears fall so freely. There was so much death, so much pain, but I couldn't help but think that maybe there should be room for some happiness too. The division would have driven me insane, had my brain been in any state fit to function. She sat on the couch in front of the fire alone. Nothing mattered at this moment more than the broken girl sitting in front of me, waiting to be consoled by the broken man in the room. "Have you heard the news?" She said blankly. "Hitler's shot himself. And his kids and wife too. They're all dead. We're going to win the war." I watched her talk, loving every ounce of her nonsense. We were cracked in Gryffindor tower, maybe beyond repair. We sat and we stared at an empty bottle of firewhiskey, pretending we were drinking, slurring our words as the night slid on. We were alone in the room. At some point we fell asleep, our heads lolling onto each other, curving around one another in the best way. There we both were, as close as I'd always wanted to be, and death stole the moment. I resolved to take it back. We needed the sleep; I woke at noon, my hunger nearly overpowering my desire to hold her soul in my arms in the honest light of day. She woke eventually, tightening herself on my waist, and I could do nothing but find my way into her mouth. She made room for me there. With no seduction, no passion, only desperation and need we made love with our eyes wide open. We lay shaking on the couch, whispering promises that faded into silence. Eventually we'd part and stretch and face the day, holding hands modestly, but for now we were here in the room and everything we started with would always be here in the room.