[His hand shakes as she grasps it, but he holds on as if it's a lifeline. Fingers threaded together, and he hates himself for clinging to her like this. This all started because she needed comfort, and here he is, desperate for it.
Her words don't help. He barks out a laugh, his eyes squeezing shut, his head ducking down. We win, and he doesn't doubt her, but it seems such a distant victory. How? How could they possibly win? And he wants to know, he wants to hear the story, he wants to hear of Voldemort's downfall-- but he bites back the question. Ask that, and he'll ask a thousand more.]
When?
[A simple question-- surely he's allowed to know the year?]
no subject
Her words don't help. He barks out a laugh, his eyes squeezing shut, his head ducking down. We win, and he doesn't doubt her, but it seems such a distant victory. How? How could they possibly win? And he wants to know, he wants to hear the story, he wants to hear of Voldemort's downfall-- but he bites back the question. Ask that, and he'll ask a thousand more.]
When?
[A simple question-- surely he's allowed to know the year?]