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chapter seven..."LOOP"
. . . . .
Morning light on his face.
"You alright, mate?" Ron's voice from across the room. Tying his shoe. "There better be—"
"Bacon and eggs left or your lazy arse'll be sorry," Harry muttered, cutting Ron off who's eyes widened.
"...Okay," Ron said, dragging the word out. "Uh. I'll see you when you're down there."
Not listening, Harry had already pulled the blankets over his head, burying himself in a coffin of maroon sheets and an aching chest. Once Ron had left, the door clicking shut behind him, Harry rolled over and stuffed his face into the pillow, breathing in its faint scent of laundry powder and his shampoo before screaming into it until his throat started to hurt.
This wasn't a dream, or a vision. It was something else entirely. He was reliving the same day.
He flipped over again, letting the sheets fall off his face as he ran a hand through his fluffy, tousled morning hair, tugging at the ends as he stared at the—blurry, without his glasses—top of his four-poster bed.
Eden hadn't died yesterday—if he could even call it that—like what he thought he saw in a dream, which he now realised was the Original Today.
Or maybe she did die last night. Maybe as soon as she left his sight last night, she hit her head or choked, or anything else. But whatever he had done yesterday trying to prevent her death, it did nothing to fix this...time loop he was in.
He was still stuck in the same day, whether she died or didn't. Staying at Hogwarts hadn't worked to move onto tomorrow, so maybe it was something that needed to be changed.
He got out of bed and pulled his uniform on, leaving his books and other school supplies on the shelf and just pocketing his wand before heading downstairs two steps at a time.
Whatever was happening to him, he sure as hell wasn't going to work it out alone.
