The Scent of Suffering
Author's Note: Originally published on September 13, 2008
He had left a week ago.
The emptiness and guilt were consuming him.
It was late and the cottage was silent, its other occupants asleep.
He bit into the dessert that Fleur had baked.
The scent of apples wafted into his nose, overwhelming his senses. The smell was familiar and comforting.
It reminded him of her. It was the same fragrance he had breathed in while he held her close and they danced at the wedding. His happiest memory of her.
He quietly made his way back to his room, the scent of apples lingering in the air. Taunting him.
He sat down on his bed and wrapped himself in his blanket.
He let out a stifled sob, the truth lay like a crushing weight on his chest.
"I need her," he whispered in the dark.
He had left a week ago.
The loneliness and pain were consuming her.
It was late and the tent was silent, its other occupant asleep.
She bit into the fruit that Harry had nicked.
The scent of oranges wafted into her nose, overwhelming her senses. The smell was familiar and comforting.
It reminded her of him. It was the same fragrance she had breathed in while he held her close and they danced at the wedding. Her happiest memory of him.
She quietly made her way back through the tent flap, the scent of oranges lingering in the air. Mocking her.
She sat down on the ground and wrapped herself in her blanket.
She let out a stifled sob, the truth lay like a crushing weight on her chest.
"I need him," she whispered in the dark.