Harry Potter Preferences

Rough Times

WARNING: This chapter could possibly contain depression, anxiety and just any other mental illness triggers, so please if you are not comfortable with it, please please please don't continue. Go watch videos of bunnies and puppies and kittens, pull your curtains open and let the sunlight in. Luv you!

Harry: When you first talked to Harry, you made it crystal clear that you were an individual that needed a lot of alone time. So he never fretted when you drifted off for a bit, because you could take care of yourself and would always come back home. But when you missed classes for three days and refused to come down to eat, resulting in Hermione bringing some swiped food from the table to you, insisting with a worried look that you must eat and drink, he was up to his glasses in a horrible feeling that he couldn't shake off. At last, with Hermione's and Ron's help, he figured out a way to sidestep the charm on the stairs going up to the girl's dorms. He held you tight then and didn't let go for hours and when he did, it was to look into your eyes to say that he was there for you no matter what and that you could go on feeling sad, just let him be by your side.

Ron: Ever since the war, Ron was never the same. It was perfectly understandable, seeing as he had played a crucial part in a literal war. But even if he had let you tend to the wounds on his figure, he never did the same with the ones you couldn't see and the ones you doubted you'd ever see, because dear Ron could be so stubborn at times. You never pushed him, but could hear him crying softly in the deadest times of night. Then, one night, he was crying again and you contemplated on whether to check on him. Would he even let you in? Then, a knock on your door made you look up and lo and behold, stood Ron with heartbreakingly haunted eyes. "No more secrets, no more lying." You heard him mutter as he stumbled towards you. You got up and met him halfway. "I'm here for you, Ronald." You said in his embrace, "Just tell me what you need and I'll help you." The tears were there but only came when he whispered into your hair, "You. I need only you."

Draco: The battle had ensued and you were giving all you had to protect all you loved. Sad thing is, not all that you loved could be protected, no matter how much you wanted it to be. Your heart ached a bit every time you fired a curse at a billowing cloaked figure, praying to dear God that whoever it was, it just wasn't him. Thankfully, it wasn't for the first few dozens, but then you hit one with a cry of Expelliarmus and feeling a messy mix of guilt and satisfaction as they reeled backwards, wand soaring into your awaiting hand. Then, time seemed to slow down as their hood was thrown back, revealing hair the shade of whitish blonde that you knew so well. "You." You had intended for the words to be spat out viciously, but the result was a mere whisper. Draco murmured your name as the both of you stood still. He took a step forward, demanding his wand back with the softest tone, as if he was afraid. That alone was enough to fuel the fire of hurt, betrayal and anger in your chest. He should be afraid. You yelled back at him, clutching his wand to your chest, saying that there was no way you would let him hurt the ones you loved. He frowned and with a deft movement, ripped his dark robes off. "You didn't think I'd really do it, did you?" He said, with a sad smile. He walked over to you and plucked his wand out of your hand. With a flick, he set his old robes on fire and flung it into a nearby Death Eater. "Don't worry," he said, "I'm on your side. I'm not letting them hurt what I love either."

Fred: In potions, you and Fred were paired up, which was usually a blast. Now, that you had split up after a huge argument, it was still a blast, just in another form. Veritaserum was the potion of the day and pairs were assigned to brew it and test it. The brewing was spent in rock hard silence, with tension in the air that was thick enough to cut open. Like all the other times you had spent in Fred's presence after the fight, you had bit your lip to the point of it bleeding to keep yourself from crying in hopelessness. Just a few days ago, this man had been the light of your life, keeping you smiling and hope pouring you into your heart. Now, he was the reason you cried yourself to sleep and the reason why there was a crack forming in your heart. Little did you know, he felt the same. Fred couldn't help but feel the sadness radiating off of you and when he peeked at you, he stared helplessly at the glossiness in your eyes. Ever since he had stormed off that night, he had wanted to run back and hold you and say he was sorry, but would you even forgive him? One way to find out, he put his foot down. Grabbing a flask, he filled it with the potion that was finished in front of you. With you gasping, he downed it and with a deep breath, turned to you. "You saw me, so know this is the truth. I still love you."

George: Mental illness has never been your strong suit, yours crashing down on you every few hours or so. That was the usual, what wasn't were the days where you couldn't even walk, when the best you could do was to breathe and wait the storm out, which was harder than it seemed. Soon, thoughts of darkness and surrender followed you around like the plague. George picked it up sooner or later, when his sunshine became sadder and sadder every passing day. It broke his heart, to see you refuse meals and isolate yourself from the ones you would normally love to be around. Including him. He knew he had to do something, but he just didn't know how to go about it. You were so fragile, like a piece of china. He was terrified that if he tread wrongly, you would break and he would be responsible. But then again, there was no way George would let you go through this alone. So one day, he asked you what you hated about yourself. You whispered. You whispered that you hated the way you shut off and the way that your eyes were a horrible shade of dead every time you looked into a mirror. The way you sat disgusted you and the way you chew made you want to tear your mouth off. After you couldn't continue because of the lump in your throat, George nodded and starting listing off things that he loved about you. The way you laugh and smile, the look in your eyes when you write, the way you could effortlessly make him fall deeper in love with you everyday. "Nothing is wrong with you," He said softly, looking you in the eye, "You may not know it but everything you do is laced with love. Nothing with love is ever wasted. You love. And you are loved in return."

Neville: Being different from others was hard, you realized one day. Harder than it should be. Especially when people discriminate you for it. Such a mindset was spawned when you heard the whispers in the hallways and the spiteful jeers thrown at your back. It was small, but it was horrible still, to know that people didn't accept you for being you. So you changed. But even then, people still had dirty looks for you all your life. One day, the despair amounted to something that crashed down on you and took you over. Drowning you. All you sought now was relief from the horrors. Instead of running, you walked, calmly even, down to the one place where you knew you could drown in peace. Trudging down in the darkness, you had no tears to wipe away, your heart was seeped of emotion, leaving a charred black withered thing. You paused at the edge of the Black Lake, letting your eyes wander over it and the rays of the moon reflecting it blind you. All around you it was silent, but you needed it to be more quiet. With that, you stepped into the water, not a shiver trembling as the icy waves pricked your skin. You continued until it reached your neck, then you dropped down to your knees, letting the water engulf all of you. Eyes closed, it was so quiet, just like you wanted, where no sneering laughs could reach you. Then, something grab your cloak, hauling you up above the waters again. You gasped for air, hearing someone do the same while crying your name. You reached the shore, trembling. Neville's voice was calling your name, but that was impossible. Yet it wasn't, for it was he who carried you up to the castle, who whispered loving an comforting things to you the whole way, who kept you warm as best as he could, who did the same to your heart and who made sure you never felt like you needed the icy relief ever again.

Oliver: "I can tell you're lying." Your words sent a spark down Oliver's spine, making him sit slightly straighter. "Oh, yeah?" He said flatly, not moving from his place on the bed with his back to you. "I can help, if you'd just let me." You sounded pleading, desperate even and it shook Oliver to his very core. The thought that you cared and cared so much at that, made him feel something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe if he-? "Okay," He relented after some hesitation. "You can come in." Some shuffling came from behind him as you walked over. He felt your warm hand on his back for a split second before it was gone again, like you were afraid to touch him. "I'm sad." He whispered, the loss of you touch coaxing the vulnerable phrase from his lips. "I know," You nodded, sitting next to him. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you if you needed anything." Oliver nodded wordlessly, before slowly tipping to the side to find your shoulder, resting his heavy head on it. Your touch returned then, running through his hair and on his cold cheek. "I'm a little less sad now." He said, nuzzling further into your embrace. You chuckled and asked haltingly, "Because of me?" He sighed as your fingers danced their way across his skin, "Always because of you."

Author's note:  Hello readers! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! For those of you, who relate to this in any way, please take care of yourself. You deserve to be happy, no matter what your brain says. Don't forget to vote and follow for more. Lastly shoutout to @Aphmaufan667 for requesting the Neville preference in this chappie!!! Thanksssssss see you guys in the next chapter