Authors Note: Written for a prompt on the Dresden Files Kink Meme on Dreamwidth.
(Someone (preferably Thomas or Murphy or anyone else close to Harry) watching Harry fold sunshine into a hanky. I feel like it would be such a beautiful, calming thing to see.)
Disclaimer: I do not own The Dresden Files, all recognizable characters belong to Jim Butcher.
Marcone sees Harry just as he exits a small grove of trees near the lake. His lanky form sitting on the grass near the lake, facing the late afternoon sun, Mouse by his side, dosing in the sunshine.
Marcone settles onto a bench just a few feet away from the wizard, and watches as he removes a white bundle from his duster. Harry pulls it apart, and lays out six pristine white handkerchiefs when he is done. Carefully grasping the edges of the first one, Marcone watches as Harry gently folds the fabric over and over, never once picking it up fully from the grass, or letting it pass into the shadow of his body. He watches as a faint, but slowly growing glow comes from the folded fabric. Just as Harry brings the last fold over, the handkerchief abruptly flares up, blinding Marcone for a moment.
When he finally blinks the dark spots out of his eyes, he sees the fabric has been carelessly tossed to the side, and Harry with his head in his hands. Marcone watches as Harry tries to compose himself, grabs a new handkerchief, and repeats the process all over again.
It's been almost three hours since Marcone had stumbled across Harry trying to fold sunlight. The sun is dipping below the lake, red-orange light spearing across the sky. Mouse had awoken only an hour before, and proceeded to rest his furry head in Harry's lap, giving his fingers comforting licks after every failure. Marcone knows that he should have left as soon as Harry started, but it is not often that he gets to watch the wizard work without his abrasive personality or enemy fire getting in the way, or both.
He watches as Harry pulls one last handkerchief out of his duster, place it on the grass in the dying rays of light, and begin folding once again. Harry pulls the last fold of the glowing fabric over when something new happens. It shines brighter, color matching that of the red-orange falling sun. The fabric seems to almost float, twisting in on-itself without the wizard touching it. It pulses and Marcone can feel the warmth from his place on the bench. It reminds him of summer days, the bright tingle of ice cream hitting his tongue. Of children's laughter, baseball in the park, summer wind running through his hair.
It's the expression on Harry's face that is the most wonderful part of it all. He looks so painfully overcome with joy, eyes wide with happiness, shining with tears of joy. His mouth splits into a full grin and lets out a whoop of joy that Mouse follows with his own happy yip, now almost prancing next to the overjoyed wizard.
The fabric stops glowing and settles gently back into the grass. Harry reverently picks it up and delicately places it back into his duster. Marcone rises as the wizard does the same, the excited grin never leaving Harry's face. Making his way back into the grove of trees he had exited hours earlier, listening to the cheerful noises of Harry and Mouse growing fainter behind him, Marcone softly smiles in their shared joy.