murder house / h.s

twenty three.

Avery's POV

Harry held his hand over my eyes as we walked down the hallway. I could tell it was the hallway because it smelt like musk. That only reminded me of the flood again, and the terrible memories caused me to shiver.

"Hang tight." he said slowly. "Almost there."

Finally, he came to a halt which resulted in me stopping as well. He removed his hands, and I could've collapsed to the ground in shock.

It was the training room.

The shelves were burnt to an impossible and unimaginable degree, forming piles of black wood on the ground. The walls were peeling off and it looked like they had been molding as well. This was all a result from the fire and the flood. I wondered what else they had in store for this room to endure.

"It looks different, doesn't it?" Harry asked, and when I looked at him I saw that he was gazing at me with such adoration I couldn't put it into words.

"Yeah." I agreed. That's all I could do, because the ghastly sight of what this room had been through was making me weak. It was such a dreadful thought to think that Harry and I once called this place our temporary home. And now it was destroyed and of no use.

"Everything except a few blades and guns made it out." he said quietly, his voice just above a whisper. I watched his every move as he walked over to the weapons table and picked up a knife, the pocket knife I remembered that I kept with me on my first day here. It was charred but the blade was perfectly fine. Just a little scratched.

"I think it's beautiful how these things still made it through." he continued, and I didn't even start to cut him off. I had no intentions of talking whatsoever, and if it meant listening to Harry's sweet voice than that was even better.

"It's amazing how they went through so much damage, but yet they still survived."

His words were beautiful. All I could do was give him an encouraging smile, pressing him to say more. I even felt a tear or two start to build up in both of my eyes.

"I want you to be like that, Avery. After this is over."

"W-what do you mean?" I stammered. Maybe it was the fact that so many memories were flooding me-- no pun intended-- or maybe it was the fact that I was so captivated by Harry's words. I just didn't understand what he meant by that. By comparing me to a knife.

"When you make it out of this, I know you'll be damaged." he sighed, taking a step closer to me. My breathing became shallow at the decrease in distance between the two of us, and I could tell his had too. "But I want you to know that I admire you, Avery. I look up to you. And I'll miss you."

"Harry, you're not going to die." I snapped. My sharp tone must've taken him aback, because he took a step or two backwards. He looked shocked, and I knew he was. I wasn't even expecting myself to speak out like that. But what I had said was true, so I didn't regret it.

"Just remember what I said."

He looked exhausted. He probably wanted to get back to the bedroom and get at least a little rest, and I appreciated the fact that he took me back here. He knew I needed it. To see what it looked like.

"Okay, Harry." I gave in. He nodded firmly and took my hand in his, to which I didn't protest. His warmth was something I would need as much as I could get. I didn't want it to be just a memory. If only there were a way...

We were walking back to the bedroom when the absolutely most amazingly smart idea popped into my mind. It was brilliant, and I knew for sure that it would guarantee both of our spared lives.