Drarry Oneshots

Numb

Posted: December 25, 2020
AO3 Rating: Explicit
[Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! The smut is really short in this one. Actually all the scenes are really short in this one. It's a bit different from my normal style, but I really like it and I hope you do, too.]

Harry stares into the fire as Ginny stares at him.

"It's been months, Harry, I don't know how long I can wait—"

"Then don't."

"You don't love me anymore." It's a statement, not a question.

He wishes it wasn't true, but he's not sure he can love her anymore. If he's even capable of loving anyone.

"I'm sorry," he says.

He should be sorry, he knows, so he says the words, but they come out sounding wrong, even to him. Fake.

"I wish you really were." Ginny sighs, sniffling and wiping at her face before disappearing through the Floo.

***

Ron shows up an hour later and doesn't say a word. He pours Harry a drink and sits beside him. He doesn't like it, but he understands. Or he tries, at least. It's better than Harry expected, given the circumstances.

He leaves a while later, to go back home to Hermione. They're happy, finally together. Harry knows. He wants to be happy for them. He tries to be. Ron touches Harry's shoulder before he leaves.

"We love you, mate."

"I love you, too."

It sounds fake again. He wants to mean it, he knows he did, once. He hopes he will again. But right now he just feels... Empty. Numb.

***

"None of this will help you until you start trying, Harry. Not these sessions with me, not the potions. You have to want to feel better."

"I know."

Harry wonders if the Mind Healer will crack under the stress of trying to fix him.

***

The first time Harry feels something again, it's unexpected. He testifies for the Malfoys because he thinks he should. Because he knows he'll regret it if he doesn't, someday. Even if he doesn't particularly care what happens to them now.

Draco Malfoy is led to the chair and bound immediately, staring up at him, sunken eyes wide and fearful, hair dirty and tangled, grey Azkaban robes hanging loosely on his emaciated frame. He looks as broken on the outside as Harry thinks he himself might be on the inside.

Harry feels... Pity.

Just a flicker of it, a spark with nothing to ignite, and so it burns out.

***

"Why is being around your friends so difficult?" The Mind Healer asks.

"They were in the war too, but they seem fine now. Happy. And they want me to be happy, too."

"Isn't that normal? For your friends to want you to be happy?"

"I'm not sure I can be happy," Harry sighs. "And I don't want to keep disappointing them."

"You don't think you'll ever feel happy again? Why?"

"I don't know."

Because I'm broken, Harry thinks. And people are dead because I couldn't save them. And because I died too, and maybe I didn't come back right.