Death is but the Next Great Adventure

Coping

In the Last Chapter: Harry has a session with Edith, his wonderful mind healer. Then he has a session with Philias, his unpaid and certainly unqualified source of questionable advice. Remus also has some wisdom to share with a sleep-deprived Harry. And it seems there was a death at Hogwarts!

TW:// trigger warning for mentions of death, suicide, graphic depictions of a corpse, and panic attacks.

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He stood directly in the flow of bodies. A constant stream of robed, faceless students walking past him without a glance. He couldn't hear their footsteps or murmured conversations. The only sound in the hall was of fabric sighing against fabric, the snap and flutter of it in the wind. He didn't feel them passing, even when their shoulders collided. He couldn't move. Like a sentient statue, he was locked in the hard shell of his skin. He didn't know why, but something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to 'move damnit!' He felt like time was running out and there was something he needed to do, but he couldn't remember for the life of him what it was!

Through the thicket of anonymous students, Harry could see them parting further down the corridor ahead of him. Suddenly, between the rush of students, he saw another solitary figure stood in place amongst the pandemonium. It was a boy. He was facing away from him, but from where he stood, Harry could just make out the back of his head and his shoulders. His hair was the color of fresh tilled earth and the hood of his robe was lined with rich emerald green. He couldn't connect the boy with a name, but just that distant glimpse of him had panic lurching up the back of his throat like bile.

Harry's hand weakly rose to reach out for him and his lips formed around a name he couldn't hear, but he knew deep in his gut that it was useless.

The boy's head turned to look over his shoulder, but Harry couldn't comprehend his features into something recognizable. And then he was falling. . .

Down. . .

Deeper into the dream. . .

This time he was in the Great Hall having lunch with his friends. As if he were locked into the linear path of a memory, Harry smiled and joked with his friends as he normally would, all the while a sea of dread and fear was brewing in his head. His gaze swept the hall and caught on a boy at the Slytherin table, sat alone and hunched over his plate. As if by fate, their eyes met.

Hate. So much hate and anger in those dark eyes.

Harry looked away first even though he desperately wanted to force his body up out of his seat and over to the boy.

The setting changed again.

Harry approached the owlery with his letters in hand, but slowed when he heard the furious sound of parchment tearing and shuddering hissed breath. A moment later, the boy stormed out of the archway and slammed into Harry's shoulder, nearly sending him tumbling back down the stairs. The boy didn't apologize when he saw who it was, his eyes dripping fire and molten anguish.

Within the owlery he found the floor littered with the torn shreds of a letter.

Like the confetti remains of the letter, scenes began to rain down around Harry in a dizzying shower. Tired sunken eyes. A lone figure at the edge of the black lake when everyone was meant to be in class. A boy crouched on the stairs, picking up the spilled contents of his bag between classes. Draco sitting next to the boy at dinner, only for the other to abandon his meal without a word and walk out of the hall alone.

And then Harry found himself in a hall and all of the dread he'd been feeling ramped up tenfold. He was growing ever more aware and in control of himself in his dream and every corner of his mind was begging him to turn around and run . He'd never felt fear like that before. But his legs refused to listen and kept dragging him forward. He rounded the corner and came upon a small crowd of students with their backs to him. They were deathly quiet and still as stone. Terror was melting his brain and the only coherent thought filtering out of the chaos was nonononononopleasenononoplease! As one, the crowd rotated around and more than a dozen sets of glassy wide eyes settled on Harry.