Name: Ariana/lucca4
Title: Our Last Dance
Ratings/Warnings: 6th-7th years; strong profanity, sexual situations, slash
Word Count: 800
Link to Post Containing Banner: Our Limbs by the fabulous Julia

Sometimes I have nightmares about the world ending. But they’re more like memories than dreams (and the world ends with a snap, like the snap of a bone as it breaks – excruciatingly quick). I can feel the scenes unfold slowly, closer and closer to overlapping with reality. They are the images of the future, and the worst part is that no-one believes me.

Parvati calls it post-traumatic stress, a phrase she’s learned somewhere in her two weeks of interning at St. Mungo’s. She tells me to go back there, back to the room with the glaringly white walls and stench of sickness, because maybe I will find some answers there.

“Lav,” she murmurs, and my name becomes a kiss when it leaves her lips. “These dreams aren’t real. I promise you, they aren’t real.” Her tongue traces the curve of my neck. When our limbs entangle it feels like hot burning embers and for a moment I almost believe her.


But then I close my eyes and the dreams are there waiting to take me away with their white hot fingers. Parvati holds me and kisses the top of my head but she seems much less real than my dreams.

It’s always the same image (because the end of the world is set in stone).

It begins with a dance, and a bright full moon. We are dancing in the street, Parvati and I, when the world ends. It’s night, the kind of night where the stars seem brighter and the night air seems to lift you higher and higher.

“Lavender love,” she says with a smile. “Isn’t it a beautiful night?”

She leans in to kiss me and that’s when it happens.

The moon becomes a menacingly large yellow eye (and I can tell it’s a wolf but I can’t point out why). And the world is swallowed; it disappears with the snap of his jaw.

* * *

“Hush,” Parvati says to me now. My body is cold against hers. Words spill from my mouth and tears spill from my eyes. I tell her about almost everything, but I leave out the dance and Parvati marvelling at the night because I don’t want her to think that I am afraid of her.

She is quiet for a moment, except for the sigh of her breath against my cheek. “This is about your attack, Lavender. It’s about Greyback.”

“No,” I say. “It’s about the end of the world. It’s a warning.”

She ignores me and brushes my hair with her fingers softly, as if she is consoling a child. “He’s dead. I promise you, he is very much dead. He can’t hurt you unless you let him.”

“It’s not Greyback.”

“Lavender, please listen to me,” Parvati pleads. “I miss you. I love you. I want you to come back to me.”

Her words sting like acid. “I’m always here for you.”

“But you’re not here,” Parvati says. “You’re there. You haven’t left the flat in months. You live in that dream world and it scares me.”

I don’t know what to say to this, and so I graze my fingernails across her soft stomach and kiss her until she moans. Sweat beads trickle from the small of her back. And I wish that this was my dream world, a world of nothing but heat and Parvati laying beneath me.

“No.” Parvati shakes her head and slides off the bed. “Lavender, we are going to settle this because damn it I’m tired of this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she says, putting on her silk robe and pulling me up, “we are going to face your fears. Put on something decent.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I tell her, but I obey anyway because she’s smiling like she’s just come up with some brilliant idea.

Parvati leads me down the hall and opens the door to the outside air. The night is stale; it’s almost morning.

“Look,” she says. “You can see the stars. You can see the moon. The world isn’t ending, I promise.”

I can’t open my mouth. I can’t breathe. There is something inside of me (and maybe it’s fear, but more powerful than I’ve ever experienced it) twisting and freezing my heart.

“Save me,” I whisper, closing my eyes.

And Parvati holds me tightly, her arms warm and strong. She holds me and sways me as if to the beat of some comforting song I don’t know. She rests her chin on my neck and I think that if anything could pull me away from the world of nightmares, it would be Parvati.

“See,” she murmurs. “Lavender, love. Isn’t it a beautiful night?”

I freeze.

I don’t remember telling her about that part.

Overhead, the yellow moon winks at me.