sitting ❀ drarry

𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟺.𝟸𝚔
𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍: 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟸𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟶
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"This is a fucking piece of rubbish."

"Harry, did you try using the doorknob?"

"Right."

Harry pushed open the door to his and Quincey's office. He pushed it open so far that it slammed against the small doorstopper and ricocheted back ever so slightly.

Harry walked to his desk - content with himself only because he had managed to make it to his office without lighting something on fire - and gave the shocked Quincey a small smile.

"I won't bite."

"I'm more scared that you'll bite the desks or something. Those are made of nice wood."

"I'll make sure to refrain from biting the desks."

"A wise decision, really."

Quincey cautiously made his way to his desk and let out a low whistle. "I remember this place like I was here yesterday."

"You were. And you've been working here again for nearly two months."

"I still remember it," the blue-haired man (now a darker shade, since he had gotten it re-dyed a few days anterior) snapped at Harry, who put his hands up defensively. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, though none of them seemed to do that anymore.

The months between his argument with Malfoy had the present had effected Harry's mental and physical health quite a bit. He hadn't shown up to work for well-nigh three weeks, and had had a few minor episodes of panic. He had, admittedly, let his independence falter when he started relying more on Malfoy to bring him down from his nerves than himself, and the sudden shock of not feeling comfortable to share with Malfoy anymore had done horrible things to him. He started distancing from his friends, from his family. From Teddy, who had started speaking a few words now.

Life was moving on in a way that almost seemed to be unnatural without the stupid fucking blond-haired idiot that Harry missed so much. He missed being able to put his problems into Malfoy's waiting ears and get a response, and he missed the way that Malfoy would furrow his brow while he thought about solutions. He missed the slight vulnerable state that Malfoy would let him see every once in a great while, if all was well, and the way that he would joke about his own shortcomings as if they were but little smudges on the bigger picture.

He missed the way that Malfoy would bring him back to reality, and the way that he would describe his reverie. He missed the way that Malfoy seemed to always want to bring out the best in people, but mistakenly seemed to be around those who kept the best in him locked up.

He missed the defensive way that Malfoy would talk about his family, and the open way that he would talk about his friends.

He missed not knowing that Malfoy was even into blokes, and how he had thought that his ardor would be one-sided and then pass.

But, alas, these things were gone, just like the Minister's assistant, who his wife had been cheating on him with, Zacharias Smith's grandmother, and the small ice cream macaron shop that Malfoy had seemed to be so fond of.

Everything was changing so fast, and Harry was beginning to become annoyed with it.

Of course, there were some things that were good. Teddy was learning to speak, Hermione was pregnant - and she claimed that it was on purpose, though Harry knew this would be a major detour in her fifteen year plan, and was probably unplanned - and Robards was looking to host a staff party in the new ballroom of the Ministry, without the Minister's permission, of course.