The Whistling Kettle

Blitz

"So...this is it, then."

Arthur felt tears well up in his eyes, and he blinked a few times to keep them at bay. Turning away from him, he ran his hand through his wet hair, unable to look the other in the eyes. Perhaps this is why they said to do it right away, then it wouldn't hurt so much.

He had never intended this, never wanted any of this to happen. He knew it hadn't been his place, he knew that he was not supposed to interfere with Muggle affairs. Arthur knew that damn well, but he had to, he had to do something. He saw death all the time, all around him. He should have walked right past the rubble, just as he usually did. It had gone on for so long, so many months now- why was that moment any different?

The bombs had come for months now, plenty of people were dying, plenty were already dead. He had seen bodies and blood, had seen hands and legs sticking out from underneath the rubble, but he had never stopped before. Arthur never payed them much mind, there hadn't been a reason to. He had things to do, places to be, people to see, and yet...

Yet when he saw Alfred laying there in the dull, seemingly hopeless rays of the morning, he couldn't leave. His leg was trapped underneath rubble, and the place still smelled of gunpowder and decay. Another bomb, he assumed- that's what it was. But Alfred had laid there on the broken cement, his eyes closed as the blood dried to his hair and the dust clung to his skin. His arm was bent in a way that was unnatural, and from the slow heaving of his chest, Arthur would give him no more than an hour. For a moment, the idea of leaving crossed his mind, and he stiffened for just a moment more. Then, looking down the street silently to make sure there were no one about, Arthur made his way to the dying man. He took a hold of him and withdrew his wand from the pocket of his clean coat, and within a moment they vanished.

He should have taken him to a hospital, somewhere he could leave him and know he'd be taken care of. But he didn't do that, instead Arthur took him home.

"I...I guess...thank you, for everything. I know I wasn't supposed to see, well, any of that, a-and I know you've gone through a lot of trouble to help me out but...Thank you."

Damnit, why did he have to talk all the time? Couldn't he ever just let the silence speak, couldn't he every just leave things unsaid? In the two months they'd been together, Arthur couldn't recall a moment when Alfred's mouth wasn't open.

"I-I know you're not a sappy kind of guy.." Alfred said, fiddling with the zipper of his bomber jacket. Arthur realized quickly that he did that when he was nervous, "There's probably a lot of people looking for me...My officers, maybe- definatly some of the other soldiers."

He looked up, looked at Arthur, and the wizard saw the whole world in those clear blue eyes. A thousand words hung on his lips, a thousand words lingered in his eyes. Could Alfred see it in his eyes, too?

"I...I care about you a lot, Arthur. More than I should...Y-Youre not like anyone I've met, not just because of the obvious reasons but...but you..."

Alfred paused, looking down the empty street. London was quiet tonight, though since the Blitz began, it usually was. People avoided the street, whether to avoid the bombs or avoid seeing them- either way, it was the most quiet night Arthur could remember.

"I know it's a lot of me to ask but please...please don't let this end. I-Ill keep quiet, you know I will. I'll keep my mouth shut and I'll stay with you and, and...But I want to remember this...I want to remember you, Arthur. B-Because I...I lov-"

"Obliviate."

And the world vanished from those blue eyes, the world and the words and every fond memory of what could never be. Alfred stood there, puzzled and confused, his eyes blank and unseeing. He turned his head away, rubbing at his eyes for a moment, before looking back up.

There was nothing there, nothing but the street and the lamppost he stood under. Alfred looked around, looked at his watch, then shoved his hands in his pocket and headed down the street, whistling a happy little tune.