Dominic Abbott (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} regretfulde) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} all_roads, |
Dominic sighed, closing his journal when it became clear that no further journal entries were to appear within the next few minutes. He needed a drink, either coffee to keep him awake or liquor to dull his senses enough for sleep, and right now it was a toss up as to which to choose.
He yawned heavily, but decided to persist at this waiting game for a few more hours. Being his luck, when he finally did sleep he would sleep for days, and he couldn't afford that right now. No, the naps that he took at his desk would be more than sufficient until Hannah was home.
He passed through the living room on the way to the kitchen, pausing long enough to throw a blanket over Hestia and to turn off the TV. Ernie had been convinced earlier that perhaps the Muggle news might have some news of unrest that could be linked to Lestrange, and that had at least kept the boy busy the better part of the night, rigging up the contraption to pick up Muggle broadcasts. His work in the living room done, he walked into the kitchen.
He found his mug quickly, filling it with stale coffee that made him grimace as he swallow it, but swallow it he did. Sleep was a luxury for fathers with all of their children safe at home, clearly not for him.
It was in the middle of one of his almost chore-like sips that he saw a flash of blonde running closer to the house. Squinting, he was almost certain that it was an illusion, that his eyes were playing tricks on him and then the mug hit the floor, hot coffee going everywhere, including on his shoes and the bottom of his pajamas, but he didn't care, he was racing out the door, sprinting as fast as he could to meet her in the middle. Never did it occur to him to be cautious, because there was no caution where Hannah was involved. Regardless of the fact that Lestrange had proven that he was skilled in Polyjuice plots, Dominic knew that he would know instantly were Hannah not Hannah and that wasn't even something he was prepared to think about right now.
Finally to her, he threw his arms around her, shuddering with relief and sheer joy at having her home again. He wanted to say something, to apologize, to ask her the logistics of her escape, to ask what had happened to her, but the lump in his throat prevented all of that, instead he just hugged her as though by the force of his arms around her he could keep her safe for the rest of her days.
Thank you. Thank you.
He yawned heavily, but decided to persist at this waiting game for a few more hours. Being his luck, when he finally did sleep he would sleep for days, and he couldn't afford that right now. No, the naps that he took at his desk would be more than sufficient until Hannah was home.
He passed through the living room on the way to the kitchen, pausing long enough to throw a blanket over Hestia and to turn off the TV. Ernie had been convinced earlier that perhaps the Muggle news might have some news of unrest that could be linked to Lestrange, and that had at least kept the boy busy the better part of the night, rigging up the contraption to pick up Muggle broadcasts. His work in the living room done, he walked into the kitchen.
He found his mug quickly, filling it with stale coffee that made him grimace as he swallow it, but swallow it he did. Sleep was a luxury for fathers with all of their children safe at home, clearly not for him.
It was in the middle of one of his almost chore-like sips that he saw a flash of blonde running closer to the house. Squinting, he was almost certain that it was an illusion, that his eyes were playing tricks on him and then the mug hit the floor, hot coffee going everywhere, including on his shoes and the bottom of his pajamas, but he didn't care, he was racing out the door, sprinting as fast as he could to meet her in the middle. Never did it occur to him to be cautious, because there was no caution where Hannah was involved. Regardless of the fact that Lestrange had proven that he was skilled in Polyjuice plots, Dominic knew that he would know instantly were Hannah not Hannah and that wasn't even something he was prepared to think about right now.
Finally to her, he threw his arms around her, shuddering with relief and sheer joy at having her home again. He wanted to say something, to apologize, to ask her the logistics of her escape, to ask what had happened to her, but the lump in his throat prevented all of that, instead he just hugged her as though by the force of his arms around her he could keep her safe for the rest of her days.
Thank you. Thank you.