𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥 [h. potter]

----- 𝐈𝐗 | 𝐢 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝

『 warnings: mentions of injuries 』

┌──── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────┐

❝ the world gives you

so much pain

and here you are

making gold out of it. ❞

- rupi kaur

└──── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────┘

HOGWARTS, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 1993

HARRY POTTER'S FOUL MOOD didn't improve over the course of the weekend--in fact, it only worsened once Madame Pomfrey told him she wanted him to stay for observation. He wanted nothing more than to get away from the Hospital Wing, a reminder of Gryffindor's devastating loss two days prior. And it didn't help that he couldn't part with his beloved broomstick, which was now reduced to splintered twigs, and insisted on keeping it at the foot of his bed.

Elizabeth did her best to cheer him up, along with a swarm of his Gryffindor friends, who trickled in periodically throughout the weekend to deliver their good wishes and get well soon cards. Ginny Weasley, in particular, even went so far as to deliver a card that sang, which wouldn't shut up unless trapped underneath one of Harry's various fruit baskets. Even then, it still produced a low humming throughout the normally silent Hospital Wing.

To further complicate things, Harry seemed to be mad at Elizabeth for reasons that she couldn't understand. She knew the loss hit him hard, but his recent passive aggression was completely out of left field. Most of their interactions in the past few days went something of the like:

"How are you feeling today, Harry?"

"Stellar."

"Anything I can get for you? We can work on Snape's essay together if you like?"

"No thanks." (During that particular conversation, Elizabeth was pleased to get more than one word out of him as a response.)

However, on Sunday morning, she reached the end of her rope. Their conversation started much of the same until she set down the bottle of Dittany she was applying to a cut on his face with a clink and glared at him. "Alright, Harry. What's your deal?" she asked exasperatedly.

He shook himself out of the daze he had worked himself into from staring at the opposite wall and glanced at her briefly before gazing out the nearest window, avoiding her eyes. "I don't have a deal," he muttered, crossing his arms.