How's It Hangin Potter?↪Drarry One-Shots 🔞

Broken Boys

Five days had passed since Harry had killed Voldemort. Upon Madam Pomfrey's request, Harry spent his nights monitored in the hospital wing with other injured students and staff. For the first five days, he was always supervised. Always around someone, always busy.

To Harmoine, Ron, and the other handful of people Harry dared call close to him, he seemed fine.
He was eating well, the nightmares were slowly becoming less troubling. He'd seemed... Happier.

The first night he was back in his room though, that's when reality hit.

Another nightmare, it felt like the worst yet. He was out of bed and running down the stairs before anyone could question it. He took the steps two at a time and ran. His legs didn't burn, he didn't feel tired. But he didnt feel awake either.

He ran until he could no longer breathe until he collapsed on his knees begging for air to fill his lungs. He wasn't sure how he got outside of the school. But the grass seemed to lul him to the point of sanity.

Then the crying started. Hushed at first until his skull pounded with sobs trying to get loose. He choked for air, shut his eyes so tight he saw stars. He needed the feelings out.

He didn't know how long he was put there, shivering in the cold, overwhelmed with dormant emotion. He didn't even realize it when a warm cape overcame his body, not until he felt the light squeeze of two arms. Harry panicked at first, but Draco held him firm. It wasn't until Harry realized it was Draco holding that he relaxed again. Moments passed and the boys just stared at each other. Harry, who was damp with morning dew. Draco, whise bags seemed to lighten his already pale, moonlit skin.

They looked at each other as they really were, for the first time. Forgetting the war, family, stereotypes. In the end, they were just two broken boys. And they were broken together.