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Mmmmm! Shivers! This is a lovely little short fic, set during the war. Told in 1st person from Harry’s pov, it’s really just a few scenes exploring Harry’s thoughts on Snape. I love ‘war fic’ when it’s well done- the sense of desperation, the gritty reality of living in the moment, the characters’ hopes for a happy ending juxtaposed against the reality that wars never have completely happy endings. Though short, this story pings all of my ‘war fic’ kinks and paints an absolutely gorgeous picture of Severus as seen through his lovers eye’s. It also gives us a mature, self-aware version of Harry, one shaped by war and the knowledge that he is a pawn in a game that is beyond his control. The writing is both ‘real’ and very metaphorical. I’d love to see this expanded into a full blown story, though that might leach some of the power from this tightly crafted tale. Besides, I doubt very much it would have a happy ending. Overall- very, very good stuff.
When I lever my aching, humming body off the kitchen table and turn, I can see only the back of his black robes. The straight set of his shoulders is almost painful to see when I know he is the Atlas that holds me aloft.
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