CHAPTER 62 - HARRY'S LAST FIGHT

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TW: PTSD; anorexia; suicidal ideation

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You can't control him. Manage yourself, manage your reactions.

He tried his best, he really did, to control his emotions. Every time he saw Draco in the halls, it was a different reaction every time. At one point, Draco nodded at him, another, he sneered. The worst was when he saw him, and their eyes met, but Draco didn't see him. As if he was just another person whom he'd never met or cared about.

He had hope for Dr. Valerie, but that would take time and unconsciously sway him towards understanding and facing his memory loss.

And Harry was tempted just to fucking tell him. In fact, one day after class, they spoke to him, but at that moment, Draco only remembered the bad things, told him to fuck off, and rushed away.

His brain is deteriorating and he won't even know it.

Manage yourself, manage your emotions.

But how the fuck could Harry? When your family is hurt, nothing matters, you're stuck in a sickening, freezing anxiety. No advice anyone can break the wall of fear that is consuming you.

He did his best to keep his mind off of it for the sake of his own relief. According to Dr. Valerie, the body isn't meant to stay in such a prolonged state, and Harry wanted to say, well, no shit.

But she did convince him to give himself permission to take a break from that feeling. That it was okay if he didn't feel that way all the time, and that he shouldn't feel guilty for not doing so.

It took a bit to get used to.

He even let himself be excited about their Hogsmeade trip the next weekend and look forward to enjoying something so small like their Halloween decorations.

The night before, Ron turned to him.

"Mate, I need your help, but we need to distract Hermione. I have a promise ring that I need to pick up."

Harry smiled and ignored the pang in his chest and memory of Draco proposing to him in Sixth Year; the split second before he saw his Dark Mark and believed that Draco wanted him forever. "That's awesome."

"I wanted to give it to her for Christmas."

"That'd be great."

"Yeah, except we're meant to go get lunch. Are you okay with that? You can tag along."

"That's okay. I was thinking of heading back to Hogwarts anyway, just wanted to do a bit of shopping for potions."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Enjoy your time."

"As long as it doesn't make you feel left out."

"No, really. It's fine." He did feel left out, but then again, how many times did he and Draco go enjoy something and Ron and Hermione didn't even know.

"Okay, so how do we distract her?"

"Leave her in a bookshop," Harry suggested. "She's simple, isn't she?"

"But I need you as well. I need your help to pick it out."

"I'll ask her to search for memory loss books. It'll take her ages," Harry shrugged. "Then I'll sneak out."

Ron nodded.

Wow. Something to do beyond think about Draco (which he still did all the time).

But Harry had forgotten that he was a celebrity now, more than before. Hogsmeade was packed. Parents with their children pointed at him, teenagers, adults, even the elderly, all were surprised by him. Gasps came as he entered a shop, and left, whispers which weren't really whispers.

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