Photographs and Memory

[clayforthedevil]

Bahorel stops by Feuilly's room not too long after the weekend he can't remember, a small paper packet held lightly in one hand. He's in a fairly thoughtful mood, so he knocks extra loudly.

Comments

[tu_vas_triompher]

"And Caen," Feuilly adds. "What the English did there--" He laughs tiredly. "Well, it was war, is what people say. As if that--"

Feuilly pulls his hands through his hair. "So no, I doubt Harry knows, and I haven't brought myself to tell him." Which isn't like Feuilly, is it. Or he feels that it isn't, anyway. But setting up that dissent between Harry and Harry...or between himself and Harry...

He shakes himself irritably.

[clayforthedevil]

What to say, to people out of time; it's a question that keeps coming up, somehow. "--I'm not exactly throwing the news in his face either. It's not as if we're keeping secrets; he could ask anyone from later in our world, or go to the Library himself-- he reads." At least Harry can.

He's quiet again for a moment. Then, glancing over to Feuilly: "Do you want him to know?" It's a real question, no presumption one way or the other.

[tu_vas_triompher]

It's a real question, and it has Feuilly scrubbing his fingers through his hair again, until it all goes up in spikes. "I...wish that he had been brought up to ask the kind of questions that would tell him about it," he says finally.

That's really the heart of it, isn't it? Well--mostly? Because somehow, even though Feuilly can't quite understand or believe it, some people are able to ask questions of a war, ask questions about half the town starving to death in a ditch or two thousand men and boys executed after the city surrenders, and find the answers adequate. Harry--wouldn't be satisfied with it. Would he?