Oh Harry that's awful-"
Hermione bit her lip and continued to gently rub circles on Harry's back between his shoulder blades as he sat curled over his knees in a chair in the Gryffindor common room. It was a pose he was rapidly becoming attached to; mainly because he couldn't look anyone in the face without twitching or growling in response to the rogue thoughts in his head.
"How long is this going to last?" Ginny asked, looking at him a little warily. Harry wished she would go away; she had been dropping hints for the past couple of weeks that she wanted to have a 'talk' about their relationship (or lack of) and it didn't seem like she would be cutting him any slack today, even with this ordeal hanging over his head.
Harry wanted to talk to her, he really did, but he was having enough trouble keeping his life under control after winning the war. Everyone wanted to talk, to say thank you, to see him, and he hated it, just as he had always disliked the attention. It wasn't Ginny's fault that his brain unhelpfully grouped her wanting-to-talk with everybody else's; it was just what had happened. And with the added complication of a mind full of Malfoy, now really wasn't the time.
"December twenty-second," Harry said, his voice muffled.
December too s-slow potion-Pansy fuck off slow too library now Potter GO AWAY
Harry snorted with laughter and Hermione and Ginny exchanged alarmed glances. Ron just shook his head, smiling ruefully. "He's not laughing at you, probably something Malfoy-related," he told them and Hermione nodded in comprehension. Ginny carried on staring at Harry looking like he'd grown an extra head.
"I think Parkinson is giving him the third degree," Harry said, sitting up and sinking back into the armchair, rubbing his aching temples.
Bitch
"Could you talk to him through it do you think?" Hermione asked curiously, pulling her feet up onto the sofa that was positioned opposite to Harry's armchair. Ron was sat next to her and Ginny was perched precariously on the arm next to Hermione; fortunately she seemed to have decided against trying to share Harry's armchair that afternoon.
"I don't know, I'm just trying to keep calm." Harry said tiredly. "I'm tempted just to stupefy myself until Christmas."
Ron chuckled but Hermione looked at him reproachfully. "That's not an option."
"I'd say it's definitely an option," Harry muttered, grabbing a pillow from behind him and setting it in his lap, picking agitatedly at a loose thread on its corner. "I don't want to hear that stupid ferrety voice any more."
problem sleep night Potter know find out stupid fucking books
"How is that a realistic option-"
"Because I can hear Malfoy." Harry said, turning his eyes to look at Hermione balefully. "Malfoy, Mione. In my head. Nattering on and on and swearing all the time and complaining-"
"Are we talking about Malfoy or you?" Ron quipped and Harry chucked the pillow at him, scowling.
"Shut up."
Trouble
"Sorry mate," Ron grinned. Harry let it go; to be honest, he was grateful that Ron was finding this amusing rather than a cause to fly off of the handle. He didn't think his headache could take Ron being angry about this as well.
shelf
"Argh, it's not even making sense," Harry said, frustrated. "It's just words-"
"I'll help if you want," Hermione said gently. "I've got a few books on Legilimency, we might be able to find a way to refine the bond-"
