𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦

     𝐇arry Potter spent the past few months awake in the middle of the night. Almost religiously, he would write on parchment and roll it up. Then, he placed the scroll into a wooden box before tapping to lid with the tip of his wand. Once he completed this routine, he would slip into bed and tried to be discreet about the act, but it was useless. The constant scritches and scratches of the quill kept everyone up at night. Since then, no one, more specifically Ron, could sleep until Potter did.

Weasley would toss and turn, plug his ears with wax, or put a silencing charm to sleep, but to no avail. The light that came from the desk, the droning quill noises, and laughs from Potter beat any tactic. It was a war that he could never win.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked Ron during breakfast. She couldn't catch sight of the untamed black hair anywhere in the Great Hall. It's been the usual routine this year, but Hermione's curiosity peaked. What exactly changed for Harry to act so unusual?

"Don't ask me." Ron slumped in his seat across from her, and took a forkful of American pancakes. He looked awful; his eyes were sunken, he had major eye bags, a pale face, and sunken cheeks. In conclusion, he looked like a walking dead person.

"Whatever happened to you?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"What do you think?" Ron chugged a goblet of water. "It's Harry, Hermione. He's gone absolutely crazy!"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I mean look at me!" He pointed to his face. "I haven't got proper sleep in months! Months!" He let out an exasperated sigh. "All those ruddy letters he's been writing drives us crazy!"

"Us?" Hermione repeated. Ron pointed at Neville, who sat a couple feet away. He was in similar condition to Ron in terms of appearance except he was completely knocked out. The poor boy rested face down into his breakfast, completely unaware as he snoozed. Fred and George poked at Longbottom's sides and cheeks, but the sleeping fifth year made no movement besides the rise of breaths.

"I swear, if I get my bloody hands on him-" Ron made a strangling gesture.

"Hey guys."

Lo and behold, Harry Potter finally arrived to the Gryffindor table, six minutes before breakfast is over. He sat next to Hermione and began munching on some bacon. Like Ron and Neville, he had heavy eye bags, but Harry was rather unbothered by the lack of sleep.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked slowly. The famished boy glanced up.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" He answered with a mouth full of food. He picked up his books. "Alright, I'll see you both later," and he ran off.

"See what I mean?" Ron pointed. "He's gone bonkers! Absolutely bonkers!"

Hermione gulped. Harry walked in and out like the happiest zombie in the world. That was out of the ordinary, all right. "Something is off about Harry, and I'm going to find out what it is."

.