Drarry - It Was All Just a Game (REWRITE - MATURE VERSION)

CHAPTER 57 - THE PARTY

TW: PTSD (flashbacks); anorexia

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Harry quickly realized why the library was such an addiction by his second week. Because after his panic attack, Hermione made him stay in the common room at night, where his brain could think with no restriction as he lay in his bed.

Letting your mind run free can be a dangerous thing when you've walked in the shoes Harry has.

Because his mind wouldn't silence itself. No matter how much he begged it. It was like his brain was a runaway train, his thoughts unstoppable even when he said 'okay, time to go to sleep, you need to sleep' because it was the war. And when it wasn't the war, it was Draco.

And missing someone was exhausting.

At least when he was in the library, he was distracted. There was something there. He thought about memory loss scientifically. His motivation was there, but there were sprints at a time where he didn't think about Draco because he had to absorb everything. There was control. There was action.

Without those brief moments where he had the distraction, his brain could run wild.

The most sleep he got was on Monday, a few hours before class started.

"Harry, mate, we have to go to Defense Against The Dark Arts. McGonagall found someone new."

"Hm?" Harry pinched between his eyes and rubbed them before opening them.

Ron stood above his bed with food in his hand. "You missed breakfast, here. Class starts in fifteen minutes."

"Thanks, mate."

Harry took only one bite of his egg sandwich in the hope that if he ate a smaller amount that the universe would balance out and Draco would remember him sooner. He threw on some clothes. When he rushed through the halls with Ron, he did his best to think about First, Second, and Third Year when he was excited about going to class. When it was a normal thing. He held on to the memories and excitement so tight his knuckles turned white. It was the only thing keeping him from seeing dead bodies on the floor.

But as he and Ron entered the classroom, Draco rushed out of it, bumping into their shoulders.

"Hey you, are you okay?" It was automatic to go after him, but Ron tugged on his robes and gave a look of sorry I can't let you go see him.

Frowning, Harry entered the classroom, where he realized what Draco was so upset about.

Harry's mouth dropped when he saw him: Pumblechook. The lawyer who tried to keep Draco in Azkaban.

He stood at the front of the class, a smirk on his face as he and Harry's eyes connected. "Lovely to see you again, Mr. Potter."

Harry's eyes narrowed. You could see the hate written on his face as Harry's fingertips trailed to his robe, this thumb gracing the edge of his wand.

"Mate," Ron said, a look of concern on his face. It equaled Hermione's, who sat in her usual spot and looked back at Harry.

"What are you doing here," Harry hissed.

"I'd like to introduce yourself as your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"No," Harry started. "Absolutely not. Absolutely not. You're a lawyer. You're a sleaze!"

The half-full room was silent, and there was an awkwardness in the air.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he turned, hiding his smirk as he wrote his name on the chalkboard. Professor Pumblechook, it read in scrappy stupid letters. "Welcome everyone. I'm your new Professor. I'd like to tell you a bit about myself. I've been a defense lawyer for the Ministry for twenty-five years, and yes, that includes during the First Wizarding War. I had a near-perfect record. Unfortunately, this summer that was changed, but, that being said, I've put thousands of criminals away who've deserved it—Mr. Potter, please take a seat."