Afterwards There is no Colour
A/N: I apologize sincerely if you expected plot for this last bit. Thank you for your kind comments and reviews and have a great new year.
+Afterwards There is no Colour
In the end, there are no witnesses to their great reunion. No fanfare, no celebration, no great emotion. All that is done is done and all crimes have been forgiven. Before they fell apart, they were together and they remember that, remember happiness with the distance of a thousand years.
It makes the old hurts easier to bear.
In the end, it happens like this:
Salazar enters the common room of Gryffindor Tower, torn from sleep by the castle’s insistent call, her trill of excitement and happiness. He meets Rowena at the portrait and they exchange a single look and then a smile.
They tumble out of the hole and through empty corridors, down over stairways and hidden passages, in nothing but their night clothes. Pale ghosts of long dead people, haunts in an old castle.
But perhaps more real than their old selves ever were.
They slip through a hidden door and out into the night, down to the lake where the others wait.
Helga hugs Sal so tightly he can’t breathe and there are tears on her face, tears of relief and happiness and homecoming.
Ro falls into Ric’s arms, clutches at his shoulders like he will disappear and smiles at Sal over his shoulder, smiles so brightly. They change partners, hug again. The girls never hesitate but the boys need a moment of silent staring to make sure... just to be sure.
Then all is as it was. Before.
Sal sinks to the ground and Hel settles in his lap, warm and real and alive, her image replacing the last one had had of her, the one of her bloody, torn corpse.
She leans into his chest and he wraps his arms around her waist. Ro sits next to him, her shoulder pressing into his. Godric tangles his legs with hers, facing the three of them.
A pile of people, a tangle of lives and hearts and souls. A tangle of what is here, what it real. No dreams to tear them apart, no mirages of how the world should be. Just four children.
They have never been that before.
Sal takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and says what he should have said a thousand years ago. Says the words that went up in flames with his mother, that got beaten out of him by fists and misunderstandings, by hate and prejudice.
He says, “I love you.”
His words echo three times in the darkness and Hogwarts sings under them.
What follows after that night is not the same as it was before but something new, something foreign and exciting and dangerous.
It’s a life without dreams and fear.