Our Love To Admire
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,625
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,625
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Lighthouse
Our Love To Admire
Chapter 3: The Lighthouse
This is the final chapter of this story, and I thank you all for reading and reviewing it. (I haven’t forgotten “How To Disappear Completely,” and me being out of school will give me the time to work on it some more.)
I highly recommend listening to the song “The Lighthouse” from Interpol’s album Our Love To Admire. What I love about this song is that the guitar almost sounds like ocean waves, and the lyrics give me the impression of moving on. I couldn’t imagine ending this story with any other song besides this one. I hope you all enjoy it!
I appreciate reviews: the good, the bad, and the ugly. (I just hope they fall into the first category.)
(guitar intro)
It has been two weeks since your passing. The battles have come and gone, but the war is soon to be finished. Potter came through in the end, and now, as the aurors are doing their final checks among the dead and alive, I am here, close to the spot where you took in your last breath.
It’s the place that’s said to break
It’s just as safe from the outside tonight
And I want that…
Days ago my arms cradled you, but you aren’t here to give me that final luxury. Instead, I am surrounded with those who fought to defeat the dark lord with me.
I face the storm and the tides
From the lighthouse
Potter, battered and bloody, takes in one slow breath after another as he speaks to McGonogall, concern etched on her face. Her eyes are so easy to read. While she never knew the full story of the two of us, she knew that ever since you died, a part of me began not to care anymore. She knew that this would be my final battle. She knew that this would be my suicide mission.
And I want that…
Unleash the storm and the night
Oh…
A few of the Weasley’s speak to their fellow fighters and siblings. The debate: should they move my body to the infirmary. I see their lips move, but don’t hear a thing they are saying. I don’t care. I want them to leave, but my own tongue cannot speak the words. Even in death, I cannot get any peace. I am only awaiting one thing, one person, and she has yet to greet me.
What do the waves have to say now?
What do the waves have to say now?
There is a motioning between Arthur and Bill Weasley for me to be moved to another location. They believe this field is no place for a hero to die, but I look upon Lupin and plea with my own black eyes for everyone to leave me here.
Slow down…
Lupin knows what happened here before. Your blood has long since seeped into the ground. I sometimes wonder if flowers will ever grow on this land again. Remus knows I just about gave up when you died. Lupin stretches his arm out to stop them from casting the charm to move me. He wants to stay here. I read the words off of his lips.
I let the waves have their way now.
Slow…
I let the waves have their day
I think of your final words, five simple words, whispered to me before you let go: “Meet me in the field.”
And I want that…
I see the waves of people departing as a figure comes closer and closer to me. No one notices my eyes divert to an invisible grace only meant for my train of vision. It could be a delusion, but I don’t care.
Here I’ve been living on roofs made of sin
Upward and outward
Begin…begin
You slowly approach me, looking nothing like the last time I saw you. There is no blood. There are no wounds. It is you - sheer perfection. I crack what could appear to be a smile to my onlookers as you come closer and closer.
Here I’ve been lucid; I’m living within
Inwardly urgent, I’m sinking again
Your right hand brushes against my face, and I feel myself sinking further and further into your oblivion. Your lips are the last thing I feel as I close my eyes for the last time.
The lighthouse
The wind pushes the tall grasses of the field you once described to me. I see the house described to me so many times and hear the ocean waves pounding over and over, a constant rhythm that hypnotizes me. Your back is turned to me, but the wind pushes the crimson dress you are wearing. I hate your house, but the colors always did suit you well. And I realize here that I am in love. I touch the grass. I feel the earth beneath my feet. My body, no longer bloody and bruised, bones, moments ago, broken, are now leading me to you. I now understand why you said this is the place you wanted to go.
I step up and grab your right hand. You look at me, entwining your fingers into mine. As the wind blows through the field and the two of us, I see you smiling at me and know that for the first time in a long time I am home.
Chapter 3: The Lighthouse
This is the final chapter of this story, and I thank you all for reading and reviewing it. (I haven’t forgotten “How To Disappear Completely,” and me being out of school will give me the time to work on it some more.)
I highly recommend listening to the song “The Lighthouse” from Interpol’s album Our Love To Admire. What I love about this song is that the guitar almost sounds like ocean waves, and the lyrics give me the impression of moving on. I couldn’t imagine ending this story with any other song besides this one. I hope you all enjoy it!
I appreciate reviews: the good, the bad, and the ugly. (I just hope they fall into the first category.)
(guitar intro)
It has been two weeks since your passing. The battles have come and gone, but the war is soon to be finished. Potter came through in the end, and now, as the aurors are doing their final checks among the dead and alive, I am here, close to the spot where you took in your last breath.
It’s the place that’s said to break
It’s just as safe from the outside tonight
And I want that…
Days ago my arms cradled you, but you aren’t here to give me that final luxury. Instead, I am surrounded with those who fought to defeat the dark lord with me.
I face the storm and the tides
From the lighthouse
Potter, battered and bloody, takes in one slow breath after another as he speaks to McGonogall, concern etched on her face. Her eyes are so easy to read. While she never knew the full story of the two of us, she knew that ever since you died, a part of me began not to care anymore. She knew that this would be my final battle. She knew that this would be my suicide mission.
And I want that…
Unleash the storm and the night
Oh…
A few of the Weasley’s speak to their fellow fighters and siblings. The debate: should they move my body to the infirmary. I see their lips move, but don’t hear a thing they are saying. I don’t care. I want them to leave, but my own tongue cannot speak the words. Even in death, I cannot get any peace. I am only awaiting one thing, one person, and she has yet to greet me.
What do the waves have to say now?
What do the waves have to say now?
There is a motioning between Arthur and Bill Weasley for me to be moved to another location. They believe this field is no place for a hero to die, but I look upon Lupin and plea with my own black eyes for everyone to leave me here.
Slow down…
Lupin knows what happened here before. Your blood has long since seeped into the ground. I sometimes wonder if flowers will ever grow on this land again. Remus knows I just about gave up when you died. Lupin stretches his arm out to stop them from casting the charm to move me. He wants to stay here. I read the words off of his lips.
I let the waves have their way now.
Slow…
I let the waves have their day
I think of your final words, five simple words, whispered to me before you let go: “Meet me in the field.”
And I want that…
I see the waves of people departing as a figure comes closer and closer to me. No one notices my eyes divert to an invisible grace only meant for my train of vision. It could be a delusion, but I don’t care.
Here I’ve been living on roofs made of sin
Upward and outward
Begin…begin
You slowly approach me, looking nothing like the last time I saw you. There is no blood. There are no wounds. It is you - sheer perfection. I crack what could appear to be a smile to my onlookers as you come closer and closer.
Here I’ve been lucid; I’m living within
Inwardly urgent, I’m sinking again
Your right hand brushes against my face, and I feel myself sinking further and further into your oblivion. Your lips are the last thing I feel as I close my eyes for the last time.
The lighthouse
The wind pushes the tall grasses of the field you once described to me. I see the house described to me so many times and hear the ocean waves pounding over and over, a constant rhythm that hypnotizes me. Your back is turned to me, but the wind pushes the crimson dress you are wearing. I hate your house, but the colors always did suit you well. And I realize here that I am in love. I touch the grass. I feel the earth beneath my feet. My body, no longer bloody and bruised, bones, moments ago, broken, are now leading me to you. I now understand why you said this is the place you wanted to go.
I step up and grab your right hand. You look at me, entwining your fingers into mine. As the wind blows through the field and the two of us, I see you smiling at me and know that for the first time in a long time I am home.