"Buried, almost tangible secrets filled the space between them, and so, without a second to think, she closed it."
The scars of war opened more wounds than Harry Potter thought possible. As he returns to Hogwarts for his eighth and final year, he le...
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YAWNING AND STRETCHING HIS ARMS to the ceiling, Harry Potter was pulled gently, for the first time in a long while, out of his deep sleep.
Sleeping in the Burrow lessened the chance of plunging into an unwanted nightmare, seeing as Harry always found it easier to sleep when he wasn't being yelled at by the Dursleys.
Only a year ago, he had been forced to become accustomed to being yanked out of his nightmares every night, screaming and sweating with a trademark searing in the lightning scar on his forehead, so he welcomed the comforting feeling of being drawn out of the peaceful dreams that he rarely experienced before.
Besides, it was a nice shift from when he initially returned to the Burrow; nightmares and flashbacks kept him up for so long that he went an entire week without sleep, and had only managed to drift off when Hermione dropped a Sleeping Potion into his pumpkin juice. Now he could not stop sleeping, and would remain in his slumber until the sun or surrounding voices woke him up. In dreams, Harry could find an exit. He could always wake up if it was too much, too vivid. There was no escape in real life, only the world that had stripped him of almost everyone he ever loved, mentally and emotionally ruining those unlucky enough to have lived.
Harry sat up in his warm bed and turned to stretch his back, feeling immense satisfaction at the cracking noises that rippled up his spine. He was at peace, as he usually was at the Burrow, and smiled softly to himself as he stood up out of bed.
His back winced slightly as he descended down the stairs, where he could hear murmured voices below him.
"You're one to talk!" the voice of Ginny Weasley snapped fiercely. "As if you haven't been snogging Hermione any chance you've got —"
"I have not been — oh, shut it!" Ron Wealsey, her brother, sounded rather frustrated.
Harry stepped down the stairs and came to sit upon the top of the staircase, watching the scene below him unfold with a foggy, slightly distant smile.
Hermione was sitting in a chair, pretending to not hear the heated argument between the two siblings. It was possible that she was not paying attention, for she was enraptured with practicing a complex spell. Tapping her wand on a mug, she filled it with water and emptied it, a noteworthy accomplishment, but neither Weasley noticed.
Harry felt impressed by it before his attention was swept away by an arguing Ron and Ginny.
"Listen," Ginny's voice lowered to a dangerously harsh growl. "Harry and I already broke up, okay? Just shove off and leave it alone."
Harry winced, remembering their fleeting summer in the tightness of her voice. After the war, everyone was in a state of euphoria. Lord Voldemort was defeated, so, finally, they could see each other freely.
