Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
Warning: Slash, hidden warning.
Summary: Harry has to do something alone.
Blue, Blue Window
"The fire is too warm." Harry stared at it in disdain.
The ground was covered in snow. The sun was setting on the horizon. His fingers itched to use his wand to make the fire smaller. It was melting the snow around the camp and causing rivulets of water to dampen the ground beneath his feet.
"We're moving," he said to the bundle beneath the blanket.
His companion did not even twitch in his direction. Harry stomped over to him in a huff but looked perplexed while he stood looming over. He sighed, then sighed again a little more tiredly.
"Fine. Stay there," he retorted petulantly. "Next you'll be telling me that the ground is too cold."
Careful to avoid the remains of two Death Eaters, he walked back over to where he and his companion had dropped their possessions. It wasn't much. Nothing really, compared to what he knew others carried when they went on camping trips.
This wasn't a camping trip though. Wasn't a trip at all, really.
"What should I do with these?" Harry held up a sack of potions, but the other wizard's eyes were still firmly shut.
Harry growled in irritation. "Ignore me then! They're your potions!"
When no answer was forthcoming, he gently lowered the sack back onto the ground. Instead he grabbed one of the Muggle pots that he had been totting around for weeks. Walking a short distance away he turned to look towards his partner.
"Is this good enough?" he asked, but again there was silence.
Digging was a lot more calming than Harry realized it could be. Still he spent a great deal of his effort mumbling about ungrateful wizards who abandoned him to do their manual labour.
"Just for that I'm tossing your precious Slytherin robe in too," he declared hotly to the bottom of the hole.
When he was finally, finally finished, he hurled the pot back over to where his own bag rested, barely missing the sack of potions where it landed. Looking around he located the large flat rock that they had been alternately using for a pillow for many nights now. Luckily he had been the last one to have it.
The mound of newly packed earth kept drawing his attention as he scribbled away with a piece of coal that only Merlin knew how it had gotten there. Finished, he stuck the stone into the ground.
Careful not to keep rereading the words "Severus. My love" that was written on it, he finally laid himself down on the new earth.
The sun was long gone and the stars seemed far away where they twinkled above the campsite.
"You're right," Harry said softly as the tears flowed from his eyes. "The ground is definitely too cold to leave you here."