After The War : ** Shadows and Light ** :harrypotterxreader:

**Chapter 9: The Weight of Worry**

A figure looms, with darkness bold,

Yet in your hearts, a fire unfolds.

With spells and courage, you take a stand,

In this fierce fight, hand in hand.

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*"Even in darkness, our light will shine; together we stand, your hand in mine."*

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The trek to the hospital wing was a blur of pain and exhaustion. Every step sent another sharp pulse through your side, making it hard to breathe. Despite your protests, Harry's arm stayed firmly around you, practically carrying your weight as you stumbled forward. Hermione walked beside you, her face etched with worry as she glanced between you and Harry, clearly trying to keep herself together.

The corridors of Hogwarts, usually comforting, felt cold and empty now. The echo of your footsteps seemed too loud in the silence. The battle against Draco and the mysterious figure had left you all shaken, and the fact that the Amulet of Ravenclaw was now in enemy hands weighed heavily on your mind.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," Harry muttered, his voice tense as he looked down at you. He hadn't taken his eyes off you since leaving the Room of Requirement, his brow furrowed in deep concern.

"I'm fine, Harry," you lied, gritting your teeth against the pain. But the dizziness in your head and the ache in your side were impossible to ignore. It felt worse than the injury you'd sustained in the previous battle—much worse.

"You're not fine," Harry said sharply, his tone uncharacteristically harsh. He caught himself and softened his voice. "Y/N, you need to stop pretending everything's okay."

You didn't have the energy to argue. The truth was, the pain was getting worse, and every step felt like it might be your last before you collapsed completely. Your vision blurred again, and you stumbled, leaning harder against Harry.

"Just a little further," Hermione said quickly, her voice tight with worry. "We're almost there."

The sight of the hospital wing doors was a relief, but as Madam Pomfrey rushed forward to meet you, you could see the immediate concern on her face. "What in Merlin's name happened?"

"She's hurt—badly," Harry said before you could answer, his grip on you tightening as he helped you onto one of the hospital beds. His voice was strained, as if just admitting how injured you were was too much for him to bear.

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, and a soft light enveloped you as she examined your injuries. "Severe magical trauma," she muttered under her breath, her face tight with concentration. "You're lucky you made it here when you did."

The next few minutes passed in a haze. Madam Pomfrey worked quickly, applying various healing charms and potions. You felt the cool, soothing sensation of magic beginning to mend your wounds, but the pain didn't fully go away. It lingered, a dull throb in your side, reminding you just how close you'd come to something far worse.

As Madam Pomfrey finished her work, she gave you a stern look. "You'll need to rest for at least a day. No exceptions. You're in no condition to be running around Hogwarts, not after what you've been through."

You nodded weakly, feeling more exhausted than ever.

Harry stood beside your bed, his arms crossed and his face still tense. He hadn't moved away since you were brought in, his eyes fixed on you as if he couldn't allow himself to look anywhere else. You could see the guilt in his expression—the guilt he always carried when someone he cared about got hurt.

"Harry, I'm okay now," you said softly, trying to reassure him. But your voice came out weaker than you intended, and the look on his face only deepened the knot of worry in your chest.

"You're not okay," he said quietly, his voice raw. "You almost..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. His fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. "I should have protected you better."

Your heart ached at the sight of him like this. Harry was always so strong, so focused on keeping everyone else safe that he forgot about himself. You hated seeing the weight of guilt he carried—especially when it came to you.

"This isn't your fault," you whispered, reaching out to touch his hand. His skin was warm, but his fingers felt stiff, like he was holding himself back from something. "We were all in danger. It wasn't just about me."

Harry's eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in them—something deeper than just worry or guilt. But before he could respond, Hermione cleared her throat softly from where she stood at the foot of your bed.

"We should talk about what happened in the Room of Requirement," she said, though her voice was quiet, as if she didn't want to disturb the fragile atmosphere between you and Harry. "That man... who was he? And how did he manage to take the Amulet?"

Harry stiffened at the reminder. His hand slipped from yours as he straightened, his expression hardening once more. "I don't know who he was, but he's dangerous. More dangerous than Draco ever was."

Hermione nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. "He was able to control the shadows, just like Draco, but with much more precision. And the way he took the Amulet so easily..." She trailed off, a look of frustration crossing her face. "We can't let him keep it."

"We won't," Harry said firmly, his voice steely with determination. "But we need to figure out who he is first. And why he wants the Amulet."

You could feel the weight of the conversation pressing down on all of you. The battle for the Amulet wasn't over—not by a long shot. And whoever that man was, he had already proven to be a formidable foe.

"You should rest, Y/N," Hermione said gently, her eyes softening as she looked at you. "You've been through too much today."

You gave her a small nod, too tired to argue. Your body was aching, and the soft pull of sleep was becoming impossible to resist. But as you lay back against the pillows, you couldn't help but glance at Harry again. His jaw was set, his eyes distant as he stared out the window, lost in thought.

You could tell he wasn't going to leave your side, not tonight. And even though you wanted to tell him to get some rest, a part of you was grateful for his presence. His unwavering protectiveness gave you a sense of safety, even in the face of so much uncertainty.

"Harry," you murmured, your voice soft as sleep began to claim you. "Don't blame yourself. Please."

He looked down at you, and for a moment, his expression softened. He didn't say anything, but the way he brushed a strand of hair away from your face spoke volumes. There was a tenderness in his touch, a silent promise that he would always be there to protect you—no matter the cost.

As your eyes drifted closed, you could hear Hermione's quiet voice in the background, discussing plans and strategies with Harry. But your mind was already fading, the exhaustion pulling you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And though the danger was far from over, for now, you knew you were safe.

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