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word count: 1,261

word count: 1,261

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◇─◇──◇─◇

It's been two years since you lost everything.

Two years since your younger brother, Colin, was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts.

You've spent the last two years trying to pick up the pieces, staying strong for your father and trying to help your youngest brother Dennis cope. Even after you found Colin lifeless amongst the rubble, you didn't cry. You didn't allow yourself. You couldn't afford to break down, especially when the fight wasn't over.

When Colin was buried six feet under, you held Dennis as he cried. You hugged your father as he mourned his oldest son. But you didn't cry.

On the one year anniversary, you locked yourself in your room and looked through old pictures, smiling sadly at Colin, Dennis, and you laughing as your father fell into the lake. But you didn't cry.

And now, on the two year anniversary, you're drinking your sorrows away in your living room, having taken the day off of work. But still, you don't cry.

Normal people cry when their brother is murdered, especially when they're the one to find the body. But not you. You don't know what's wrong with you.

You've thought about taking all of the anti-depressants in the cabinet, but you didn't want to make your father bury another child, and you didn't want to leave Dennis alone.

Still, the temptation is always there.

A knock sounds at your door, and you stumble to your feet, not bothering to check who it is as you open the door. You're unsurprised when your best friend, Pansy, walks in. She looks you up and down, a disappointed frown on her face.

"You said you wouldn't drink," she says as you close the door.

"I said I wouldn't drink much, and I haven't. Only one bottle."

"Put it away."

"No."

"(Y/N), you need to talk about it."

"No, I don't."

"(Y/N)—"

"If you're here to nag me, feel free to leave." Pansy sighs, sitting on the couch. She looks to the left, freezing.

"Why are your pills out." You follow her line of sight, shrugging.

"Because they can be." Pansy leans forward, staring straight at you.

"I'm only going to ask you this once," she says, her voice quiet but level. "Do you plan on taking them all?"

You stay silent, not quite sure how to answer. You didn't plan on it today, but you couldn't speak for the future. Pansy stands and puts her hands on your shoulders, making you look at her.

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