Enchanted Ink

Broken Glass and Wellness Checks

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a/n:
CW: Panic Attack
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As the summer came to a close and Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express, his emotions and hormones were just as out of whack as they had been when Voldemort's dead body hit the ground of the courtyard in May. The only upside to returning to Hogwarts was being surrounded by his friends, rather than his overbearing uncles. No matter how much Harry loved his uncles—and he loved them both with all of his heart—he'd be lying if he said he didn't jump at the first chance to return to Hogwarts in order to escape them and their antics.

Uncle Padfoot had a tendency to give small smiles whenever Harry entered a room and wore an expression that could very plainly be perceived as 'If you even so much as blink for longer than normal, my arms will be around you in an instant.' Although Uncle Moony wasn't looking at Harry like he was made of glass and would break anytime soon, nearly every day before dinner he'd ask Harry an assortment of questions to gauge his feelings for the day. He loved them both dearly, but Merlin, did Harry need a break.

"How much longer?" Harry asked as he readjusted his legs for the upteenth time since the train had left Kings Cross station.

"I think we're about halfway there," Hermione shrugged as she flipped through her supply list to ensure she remembered everything. "Are you two taking potions this year?"

"Think it's a requirement to be an auror," Ron shrugged at her side. He looked up at Harry, who merely squirmed on the bench across from them. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Harry shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant, but he was far too antsy to be cooped up with Ron and Hermione for another three hours.

"Mate, if there's something you need to say, just say it—"

"It's nothing," Harry snapped with narrowed eyes. Before Ron had a chance to say something back, Hermione grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, her eyes never leaving Harry.

"Harry, you've been jumpy the whole ride. We're just worried about you," She gently explained. When Harry didn't settle down, she pursed her lips before slightly sighing. "How about you take a walk? Might be good to clear your head."

Not wanting to argue with Hermione or start something with Ron, Harry barely nodded before standing up and leaving the compartment.

He wasn't certain why he was unsettled, a common theme nowadays, but the most frustrating aspect about everything had to be inability to put a name to his emotions. Uncle Moony suggested slowly playing things back to determine what was specifically triggering an outburst or change of emotion that Harry couldn't decipher.

He took a deep breath and tried to give it a go. He had been antsy all morning, but he was always a bit nervous to return to Hogwarts. His mood hadn't changed, or at least he thought it didn't, until Ron mentioned becoming an auror—maybe that's it? Maybe Harry didn't want to be an auror anymore and was having a life crisis as to what to do? It was a plausible explanation seeing as he never thought he'd make it out of the war and for years had expected the war to last longer than his Hogwarts education, but it didn't. He defeated Voldemort, Death Eaters were either sent to Azkaban or escaped, which meant he didn't necessarily need to be an auror, not that it mattered too much since he never genuinely wanted to be one.

Despite analyzing the possible triggers for his mild outburst, the unsettling feeling in his chest only grew as he passed far more empty compartments than usual. He returned to Hogwarts for such a selfish reason—to escape his overbearing parents—without considering how many people, how many classmates, wouldn't be returning for hundreds of reasons, nearly all stemming from the trauma that carried with them each day from the war or even the battle—the battle he let happen.