sitting ❀ drarry

𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟸.𝟹𝚔
𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍: 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟶
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The three days that followed were hell, hell, and hell again. With the news of Malfoy's departure so imminent in the air, Harry found himself stranded on an island of shock.

His world had just changed again, and in a way that was more frustrating and upsetting than the last. He had lost Malfoy for good.

Malfoy wasn't scheduled to leave for a few hours by the time that Harry woke up on the dreaded day. He had contemplated going to Malfoy's house to dragoon him into staying, but he figured that the floos were closed and that he was probably kept out of the wards. Hermione had come over to visit once, and she fed Harry some lunch and dinner. She admonished him for not eating breakfast, but he was barely able to apologize.

Ron tried to snap him out of it, suggesting that they go out, or that he try and focus his energy into work. With Robards gone, the position of Head Auror was vacant, and Harry was one of the prime candidates to take it up. After a few hours of struggling to reach Harry, Ron suggested he see someone about it. He tried to get Harry up and out of bed - where he had been stationed for three days already - but was unable to.

Harry woke up alone on the day of Malfoy's egress, his head hurting and his mind feeling fuzzy. He hadn't slept hardly a wink before he had woken up, and it showed as he tries to sit up. After finally being able to manage something, Harry was sitting upright. He yawned, and stretched a bit. There were a few sounds downstairs, and he assumed that it was either Kreacher - who lived in the attic now, and only tidied up when the house looked like it had been ransacked - bustling around, or Hermione making him something for breakfast. He wouldn't eat it, he decided before he even knew if there was anything there. He wasn't hungry.

The noises got louder after a moment, Harry realized, as it moved closer to his bedroom. He heard what sounded like the clanking of metal on the wood floors, and it got louder and then softer when he heard footsteps on the carpeted stairs. He sighed heavily, knowing that it was probably Neville asking it he could borrow some sort of utensil, or Seamus with some new tap shoes. They both only visited every once in a while, and mostly at the wrong times. This classified as a wrong time, in Harry's book.

There was a soft knock at the door, and it sounded like the beat to a Weird Sisters classic. Harry didn't know anyone who enjoyed the Weird Sisters other than Ginny.

The door was pushed open to reveal the red-headed witch, and she was accompanied by Luna, who had some sort of cloak with tin cans tied to the ground. They dragged along the floor as she walked, making jangling noises every time they struck each other. Ginny smiled sadly at him, and Luna let out a little wave.

"How was Barcelona?" Harry asked then, knowing that Ginny had had a quidditch match there just a few days prior. Luna had told him all about it before they left, going on and on about how many Nargles could be found in major cities. Harry's voice was rough, because he didn't speak much in general, and had just woken up.

Ginny shook her head, as if to say that they weren't going to speak about it. "Fuck off."

"What did I do?"

"You know why we're here."

Harry frowned, because he did know why they were there. They were there to frustrate him into admitting his feelings. To listen to his woes and worries while trying to make him forget that Malfoy was leaving. To preoccupy him into staying put. Hermione had set them to it, no doubt; she didn't trust Harry to not make impulsive decisions.