✕ ┆ killedbyvoldemort.

What an innocent boy ! Blonde hair covering a head that has been shielded and a heart that has been caressed with love by the woman who took him in. Innocent eyes probably have never seen blood tainting hands that only knows war, welcoming her skin home with metallic warmth. Wish, wash goes the sink, untainted water littered with red that was slowly coming over her calloused skin. Skin around the fingers that ended a life. Someone’s veins are not pumping blood furiously under pale skin, a heart is not beating beneath a chest of bone. Why ? Because it was her job. Now, as the clock struck twelve, it was time to go to sleep, so thunder ricochet from a biting tongue demanding his next move. 

                                                       “ Go back to bed ! “ 

Ernie’s brown eyes didn’t fill with sadness at her tone, he just moved smoothly into the bathroom, watching her as he sits on the toilet lid. He knows why she’s covered in blood; he’s not that much of an idiot - he just c a r e s too much, and it’s obvious in the way his eyes are spanning the room. He can see the heartbreak in his mothers gaze when they think he isn’t there, when they talk of death and of blood and of WAR that they think he can’t h e a r because he’s only YOUNG, the fire blazing in his aunts eyes before he comes downstairs. He doesn’t understand the point of the war, only the secret glances of people he doesn’t know, people he’s been told never to speak to, their sneers and words marking his mother like BLADES - knives coated in the blood of his m o t h e r and he feels as if he’s drowning. Little Evans boy ( not POTTER… not yet ), can’t catch his breath with how CRUEL the world can be. He analyses Dorcas as best as his seven year old mind can. If you grow up in a WAR ZONE – you’re never really a c h i l d.

                                                            “ You missed a bit. ”