Returned- Drarry COMPLETE

Chapter 43

—Draco POV—

Feeling weary and strained, I stumbled down the hallway, through the door, to our bedroom. The early morning sun was shining, pouring its light and warmth through the house, but all I could think of was how my feet became heavier with each step I took.

I closed the door behind me, heaving a sigh as my eyes trailed to Harry- pale, skinny, and worn looking Harry. Yesterday, he'd had another breakdown. This time, because of the Weasley family. Harry spoke of Fred and the war, and how it was his fault that the twins are where they are now. That it was his fault Ginny is a single mother, and that he was the one who had draped the blanket of grief that the Weasley's always seemed to have over them now.

I spent yesterday trying to calm him down, to have him see the weight of the circumstances, and the fact that No, it wasn't his fault. The fact that the War had just worn them thin, like it did to everyone else. He didn't cry yesterday- he was too mad at himself. As for me, trying to settle and extinguish a blind rage fueled by self hatred that has been bubbling for eleven years isn't a cinch. I had to stop him from scratching the daylights out of himself and hitting himself. It's difficult for me to watch because I care about him so much and I just can't stand the times when I don't succeed in stopping him. He refused to eat lunch and dinner even as I had insisted he eat at least some of it. He decided that he just couldn't stomach it, saying he'd throw up if he tried.

While I've still managed to make sure he doesn't skip the vast majority of meals, his food intake has been decreasing steadily. It's gotten to the point where they were portions fit for Scorpius, sometimes even less. The first few times, I let it slide, thinking it was leftover tiredness because of the turmoil in his head, eyeing him carefully as he ate, and making sure he got something in. But, on the eve of the fourth night, I snapped, asking why he's eating like a bird. The problem was that I didn't say it in any manner that could be considered even remotely friendly. We argued that night, and for a few days after, we were sour towards each other. I would look at him and scowl, masking my overwhelming concern for him. He would look at me in the same way he would back at Hogwarts- with a fuming anger. But this time, I could see the pain swirling through his eyes. I hadn't seen that at Hogwarts. We were acting like children again, if I'm being honest.

Things have calmed down significantly since then, and he slept through this past night, which was surprising to me- he hasn't been sleeping much lately, but then again, neither have I.

I snapped out of my daydream when I noticed Harry shift in the bed. Yawning and stretching his arms out, he opened his eyes, looking at me with a smile so faint that I wasn't sure if I was imagining it.

"Good morning." I whispered softly, observing as he twisted around stretching his whole body as his smile grew to be just noticeable, and definitely not from my imagination. He seems to be doing better today than yesterday. That made me happy. But, maybe he was just happy to have gotten a good sleep in.

"Good morning," He said, catching another yawn.

"How did you sleep?" I asked, going towards the bed, the soft, warm bed that my body was just aching for.

"I slept well," he moved over so I could sit by him. "You left last night?" He asked curiously. His voice was still groggy from sleep, it was another little quirk I liked about him, how his voice changes when he wakes up. I nodded in response to his question.

"Scorpius had another nightmare. He came in here looking for me. We went back to his room so we wouldn't wake you." I explained simply, yawning myself.

"I need to get back there before he wakes and realizes I'm gone. That way, he doesn't freak out." I continued.

"Why would he freak out? You go back to our room in the middle of the night all the time." Asked Harry, looking at me through a half-asleep look of puzzlement.