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Will it ever end?
James’ voice trembles as he asks Molly Weasley to sit down; Sirius’ left hand find his right one as he swallows.
“We were on a mission,” he hears Sirius say, “…but we fell right into an ambush, and…” there’s no need to add anything else because Molly begins to cry, her arms wrapped around her pregnant belly.
(“It’s going to be a boy,” Fabian had laughed, just two weeks ago.
“Isn’t it like… the sixth?” James had asked, and Gideon had looked at him with amusement.
“Yeah. I don’t really know what they have in mind, maybe they want their own Quidditch team,”)
For a few seconds, there isn’t Molly in front of him but Lily; her belly is smaller, the tears and the pain all the same. James can’t help but wonder how much times he has left until someone will have to do this. He wraps his arms around Molly - will I ever be able to watch my child grow up?
His eyes find Sirius’ grey ones and he searches through them for a reassurance - however, James finds only his own fears.
Will it ever end?
There’s been another attack in a muggle town in Surrey, Lily finds out that morning. Her heartbeat speeds up, and breathing is difficult. Her eyes search through the article, trying to find that little town name. Please, don’t let Petunia be dead or hurt, please. Please.
It isn’t Little Whinging, it isn’t, but her eyes are still burning - the tears are right there, between her eyelashes. Her mouth lets out a sound that is both relief and anguish, ease and pain, fear and hope. Her left hand finds its way to her belly, and she feels a gentle flutter.
Will we ever be safe? Will innocent people stop dying?
Will it ever end?
Living with werewolves in the past year has let him see a part of himself he hadn’t fancied to understand until now. Even though he is well set in the last pack, Remus feels a bit of an outsider. He doesn’t belong there; his place is with his friends.
Remus knows, though; he isn’t that stupid. He knows that Sirius thinks he is the spy, the traitor - and he can’t blame him. Who would ever trust a werewolf? In this war there aren’t such things as being friends with non-humans.
Nevertheless, Remus is a bit disappointed. He has never thought before that Sirius could watch him with such wariness, accusing him with his eyes, blaming him whenever he comes back at the Order base as if he was behind a failed mission.
Sometimes Remus just hopes the war to end, he wants his friends back; that broken thing between the four of them is just a proof of his own self-destructive thoughts. Will everything just go back to what it was?
Will it ever end?
Peter’s breath hitches as he comes forward. His heart is beating fast against his chest, and a fear he has never felt before makes him sick at the stomach. Will it ever end? has been on his mind since his first few days in the Order.
Peter isn’t a coward, that’s what James has always told him. He isn’t a coward, he is a Gryffindor; the Hat had put him there for a reason. The way his body trembles as he bows, however, isn’t that brave.
“Wormtail,” the voice is rough, and as he raises his head, Peter can see red eyes pinning him right where he is. “Yaxley is telling me you have some news on your… friends,”
“M-My Lord,” he swallows, his throat is dry.
(‘Keep away from him, Snivellus,’ James says as he, Sirius, and Remus come closer to him. ‘Try pointing your wand towards Peter again, and you’re as good as dead,’)
Totally out of place; Peter has to fight with that memory to talk. “Yes,” he urges himself to go on. “the Potters have made me their Secret Keeper,”
Will it ever end? his mother has asked him just yesterday, her voice full of fears, her eyes bright with tears.
“Never,” the Dark Lord stands, and Peter takes a little step back. “I would have never thought someone like you could be that useful one day,” his thin mouth makes a creepy smile as he comes forward so that he and Peter are just a few steps aways from each other. “Where?” Voldemort’s voice is full of excitement, one he can’t contain.
“The Potters’ location is…”
(‘I’m so happy you could come around Peter,’ Lily smiles, as she is rocking her son. ‘Harry is happy too, look at how he is smiling!’)
“Potters’ Cottage, Godric’s Hollow, West Country,”
I’ve ended it. I’ve ended it.