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DT: come reap

praise with elation, praise every morning--god's re-creation of the new day

Posted on 2004.29.09 at 13:18
How I feel about it all: sleepysleepy
Soundtrack: Cat Stevens - Morning Has Broken
I wanted to write something cheery and optimistic for willysunny, but my just-got-off-the-night-shift brain is too foggy to co-operate.

Instead, I give her this, which I wrote a while back to cheer myself up, and tweaked a bit this morning. It's a bit different and a bit longer than it was originally. The house is a real one. The house I give to Harry and Draco. The story, also a real one, I give to Willow.

This is for you, kiddo. I hope it makes you smile. It makes me want to write, which makes me smile. *hugs*




The big old house has nine windows in front, and a green door that opens onto a short brick walkway leading out to the winding country road. There are poppies hidden in the waist-high grass, blood-red, once carefully tended by some long-ago gardener, now gone as wild as the bittersweet vines creeping up the pine trees in the side yard. An old, broken-down barn lies to the left of the house, its rough-hewn rock foundation standing strong under powdering clapboard shingles. The back garden is a tangle of windblown grasses; the spring air is honey-scented. It's a Muggle house, true, but the builders have wrought their own kind of magic there, and even the wizards say that there's a palpable air of something that reaches out like a physical presence to anyone who passes. Some say it feels a lot like love.

Harry stands in front of the house, facing out towards the winding lane where horse-carts once pulled their burdens of goods or passengers when the house was new. His face is lifted toward the afternoon sun; his eyes are closed. The not-quite-magic in the air is something Harry can physically feel, like the gentle hand of a welcoming friend. It's all around him, everywhere in this place, and he drinks it in like a tonic, grateful. He knows without a shred of doubt that he's come home. His home. Their home, finally and completely.

After all the long years, after the war and the dying and the tears and the putting back together, a place for them to grow up and grow old and live and laugh and fill with all the love in the world.

It's perfect, Harry thinks. Perfectly wild, perfectly wonderful. Magical. Home.

He can't wait to show Draco.

Comments:


february_sea at 2004-09-29 11:22 (UTC) ()
Oh. *sighs softly* That's just...exquisite. I can see it, and even SMELL it...

Lucky Willow. :) Thanks for letting us all see it.
try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
primroseburrows at 2004-09-29 14:43 (UTC) ()
The house actually exists. It's a 200 year-old colonial in South Kingstown that I owned for a brief time in hopes I'd be able to renovate it. Time, money, and listening to pipe dreams made it not work out. I was happy I could give the dream to Harry and Draco. :D
Really Sunny
willysunny at 2004-09-29 18:03 (UTC) ()
This is exquisite. I could see, feel all your descriptions. The house sounds so beautiful, along with it's gorgeously wild, country surroundings.

It actually brought back a lot of memories for me growing up on an old country dirt road, on acres of land, and crazy grass with two old barns we kids used to tromp around in. I have tears in my eyes

Thank you for this. I am so grateful for this warm, loving story. And for you.

*heart*
try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
primroseburrows at 2004-09-30 07:44 (UTC) ()
It really was a great house. And the people I sold it to did renovate it (I was afraid it'd be torn down), and from the outside at least, it looks great. They'd told me I could come look at the inside any time I wanted, but I'm still too heart-sore about giving it up. It really is a magical place. It was built at the turn of the nineteenth century (probably around 1790). People in three-cornered caps probably helped build it. *g*

*hugs*
I sing you to me
byandby at 2004-10-01 16:52 (UTC) ()
After all the long years, after the war and the dying and the tears and the putting back together, a place for them to grow up and grow old and live and laugh and fill with all the love in the world.

Simply wonderful. Your descriptions are gorgeous. I want a home like this.
try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
primroseburrows at 2004-10-02 13:42 (UTC) ()
I want a home like this.

I did too. *sigh*

I'm glad you liked it!
Not here anymore.
dorrie6 at 2004-10-02 05:07 (UTC) ()
This is lovely.
try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
primroseburrows at 2004-10-02 13:46 (UTC) ()
Yeah? You really liked it? *g* That means a lot, lovey. Especially now that I've decided I might actually want to be a writer when I grow up. *hughug*
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