"You are not replaceable,” he said. His hands were shaking as he gripped her. “You are not required to make your death convenient. You are allowed to be important to people. The reason I took that fucking Vow was to keep you alive. To keep you safe."
I'm going to take care of you. I'm always going to take care of you. I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to take care of you.
I’m going to take care of you. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You don’t have to be lonely, because you’re mine.
He sneered. "Perhaps someday when I have time I can make a list for you of all the things that apologies don't fixe."
Like a star, he was glittering and ice-cold from afar, but when the space was bridged, the heat of him was endless.
If he couldn’t hide her, he would hoard her to himself as much as he was able.
She’d fallen for a dragon.
I have warned you. If something happens to you, I will personally raze the entire Order. That isn't a threat. That is a promise. Consider your survival as much a necessity to the survival of the Resistance as Potter's. If you die, I will kill every last one of them.
"I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. “I love you. You left, and I’d never told you."
“I suppose no one realises how light one set of manacles is until they have two,” he said, studying her expression as his tone grew musing.
Their chests were pressed against each other, and she wasn't sure if she was feeling her heartbeat or his. Perhaps they had the same tempo.