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Hermione watched nervously from where she sat on the horse. Although Draco had clearly grown and matured over the years, it made her nervous that the Guard—an ugly man with a fowl stench about him that reminded her of the few trolls she’d run into in her lifetime—was speaking only to him. Of course a gunslinger would always demand attention in a situation like this, but the difference here was that this particular gunslinger had once been an enemy.

Part of her wondered if he still was. [x]

(Source: thelaughingmagician)

“The dead do dream. They see with eyes that look past the physical and into the soul of the matter. The disgusting, filthy fucking soul. The ugliest darkened corners of the heart can’t hide from the eyes of the dead, and these images creep into the thoughts of the living as nightmares, but the dead do dream.” [x]

(Source: thelaughingmagician)

“What you saw of me back then was only a glimpse, the surface of the bloody iceberg, Granger. Don’t pretend to fucking know me or my motives, and never again suggest you know my opinion on such a matter. What a man says and what he feels are often two very different things, because this world expects certain things from all of us.”[x]

(Source: thelaughingmagician)

“I am sorry for what they did to you,” she whispered. “It’s an image that haunts my nightmares,” Hermione assured him, “and always will. We’re in a war, but what sets us apart from them is how we treat our prisoners and enemies, and I thought Harry and Ron had understood that. Guess I was wrong.”  [x]

(Source: thelaughingmagician)

When he reached to his side to pull one of his guns, the crowd took a step back. The girl, sensing that she was about to leave this horrible place once and for all, put forth the effort to open her eyes and stare at him. He recognized the look in her eyes, the longing. Death was the only way she would ever find peace now.[x]

(Source: thelaughingmagician)

But I prefer you alive!