Random realization of the day.

[kasche]

It's automatic. Every single time I read the word plethora somewhere I start thinking of Common Threads.

“Where’s the hammer?” he asked as soon as Harry got close enough. The kid looked startled for a moment, before shrugging apathetically and looking away. “Did you lose it?” How the hell could he have lost the hammer? He’d only been out here on his own for the last fifteen minutes, twenty at the most. Had that been too long? He wasn’t going to become the boy’s shadow, for fuck’s sake. Not only did Harry not need someone holding his hand through everything, he very obviously didn’t want it.

“I threw it in the lake.”

“You what?”

“I threw it in the lake,” this time Harry announced it defensively, and the rational part of him realized that it was probably in reaction to his own growl. But damn it, he’d had it. Get to know the kid? What had he been thinking? Harry wanted to get to know him better like the kid wanted to get to know the plague.

“And you think they grow on trees around here? Look around you, Harry. Do you see a plethora of hammers?” A plethora of hammers? Who the fuck cared about the bleeding hammers? Why the hell had he given and angry, self-destructive, messed-up teenager a hammer in the first place? God, he was not cut out for making these sorts of decisions. Coach a third year through a particularly hard charm? Sure, no problem. Be a sympathetic ear for someone who needed to talk? Absolutely. Tread where he wasn’t wanted? Give help unsolicited, force advice on someone who hadn’t asked for it? Hell no.

“It wanted to be free.”

Remus mentally counted to three and resisted the urge to strangle the smug grin right off the kid’s face.

Comments

[kasche.livejournal.com]

Overabundance, excess. :)

[sabrinablack.livejournal.com]

Ahh, you learn something new everyday!