Haven .|. H. J. POTTER✔

Chapter thirty-seven

"Haven, stop,"

"Leave me alone,"

Harry picked up his pace to keep up with her as she stalked through the corridors, on her way to the staircase of hell that led to the Eighth-years Tower. 

By the end of that day, Haven still hadn't said a word to him and it was starting to really get on Harry's nerves. He refused to think about the fact that this might have been how the Weasleys felt when he avoided speaking to them in the first month after the Battle of Hogwarts. 

This was different, he told himself. This was Haven and she was going to do something dangerous if she didn't talk to someone about this. 

"Haven, please -" Harry tried again, following after her up the steep staircase, spreading his arms to brush against the walls like he always did when Haven walked in front of him. She had quite a habit of slipping and therefore dubbing it the staircase of hell.

No one could really argue with it. 

"I don't want to talk to you," Haven snapped, increasing her pace to get to the Eighth-years Tower faster. 

"You have to," Harry said as they climbed up the last steps. "This is important to talk about,"

"Harry, I've told you," Haven whipped around, her dark hair flying through the air and now framing her face in an effortlessly elegant way. Harry always admired that about Haven. "I don't want to talk about it! Not now, not ever!"

"Why can't you tell me what is on your mind, am I not your friend?" Harry said, his eyebrows also furrowing. He was quickly losing his patience yet now he had no way of popping the bubble of anger that was growing inside of him. 

"You didn't like it when other people wanted to talk after the war," Haven raised her voice an octave, loud enough for the students behind the wall to hear her. "Well, neither do I!"

"You're about to go on a murder spree, Haven!" Harry shouted following her up the last step so they stood in front of each other in the narrow hallway, in front of the wall door that required a password to open. "This is a lot different than war PTSD!"

"It's caused by the same thing, isn't it?" Haven said with a snarl. Her face radiated all fury. Her already slim eyes were now narrowed in anger, her shoulders were squared, and her figure leaned forward, ready to strike.

The frustration with the girl in front of him made Harry's skin tingle and his chest tighten. "Can you please at least talk to me so I can understand?"

"You know damn well why I'm doing this!"

"You're making notes on how to find a man and kill him, Haven!" Harry exclaimed with big eyes. He saw the fury on her face mix with confusion now. "That's right, I saw what you were writing in class. I know what it feels like but you can't walk around murdering people for taking them away from you!"

"Nothing stopped you from doing exactly that, didn't it?" Haven shouted, pointing her finger at his chest. "He took my mother away from me, Harry, he ruined my entire fucking life and I will not let him go unpunished!"

"You can't take the law into your own hands, that's not how this works!" Harry tried to take a step closer but he wasn't sure if he should. "The Ministry will take care of it and they -"

"And then they'll what?" Haven asked him with a clenched jaw. "They'll put him back in Azkaban? He'll be out within days again, they have no fucking clue how he even got out! The Ministry is still as incompetent as it was a year ago, even if Shacklebolt's trying to improve it,"