Remnant /ˈrɛmnənt/
a part or quantity that is left after the greater part has been used, removed, or destroyed.
When death takes my hand, I will hold you with the other and promise to find you in every lifetime.
Remnant. A story on grief and loss.
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Arwen Milton
The past few days had been strange to say the least. Harry had depended on me more than ever before and it was all due to the fact that Christmas was creeping upon us. It was just days away now and Harry wash panicking like never before.
He wasn't alright and he had finally admitted to that after weeks of him lying through his teeth. He admitted that he wasn't okay and that he needed help, and since that very moment, I've hardly left his side.
I've been attached to his hip, and he hardly lets me out of his sight.
He's full of worry, and not just a little bit, he's full to the brim with groundbreaking fear. Every day I watch how his fingers tremble as he goes about his daily life, I see how his eyes will occasionally mist with tears and how his face will pale when he realises how terrifying this all is.
He's best when he's kept busy. Distractions work wonders with Harry. If he's with the kids, usually he's okay, though the second Binx goes to school or Sully lays down for a nap, it's over for him and his fragile mind. He's so vulnerable and I don't think he even realises it.
Christmas has made him worse. It's the first big holiday without Jazz around and I know how much that must be killing him. Sully's first birthday was a big one for him too, I know he really struggled to get through that, but Christmas was just on a whole other level. It wasn't even really just for one day, it was pretty much for a whole month.
It's like Binx was purposely tormenting him too, singing Christmas songs and writing her little lists to Santa, each one Harry took, held to his chest and let out a sob. It was physically paining him to have to do this alone and so I had offered my help.
It wasn't fair for him to go through such a thing alone.
It broke my heart to see him this way, trembling like a leaf every time he looked over at the Christmas tree or every time we even spoke about the damned holiday.
I had been secretly adding items from Binx's Christmas list into my Amazon basket, and every night I'd go over them with Harry whilst he tried his best to stay focused but there were tears at his lash line and a wobble in his lip at even the mere mention of it.
Whilst Binx was counting down the days until Christmas, Harry was counting down the days until it was over.
But even when it's over, there's still the issue of new year creeping upon us.