Letting Someone In.

This was written for two competitions on the Challenge Forum.

One was slightlysmall's Catharsis – Experience Emotion Competition on the Challenges Forum. The song line I was given for inspiration was:

"He's magic and myth, as strong as what I believe; a tragedy with more damage than a soul should see. But do I try to change him? It's so hard not to blame him" from Kelly Clarkson's Beautiful Disaster.

The other was 'The Friendship Slice' of thefirstservant's Chinese Moon Festival Competition.


The back door of The Burrow slammed shut behind Harry, and Hermione let out a sigh and dropped down into one of the soft, worn armchairs, head in her hands. The house was silent, apart from the gentle splashing coming from the kitchen where the dishes were washing themselves under the charm Mrs Weasley had put on them before going out, and the distant banging of the ghoul in the attic. In time gone by silence in The Burrow was generally met with suspicion and wariness about what Fred and George were planning next but in the weeks since the Final Battle, and Fred's death, silence had become the norm.

Hermione sat back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling, absentmindedly plucking at the handmade blanket draped over it. Whilst Harry's reaction to her mention of their brief time imprisoned at Malfoy Manor had not been unexpected it was still disappointing. It had been twelve weeks since the Final Battle at Hogwarts and those closest to Harry were becoming more and more concerned about him.

The first week or two after the Battle had been full of funerals and memorial services for those who had lost their lives, but once they were over Harry had holed himself up within the heavily warded boundaries of The Burrow refusing all the requests for interviews and public appearances that were constantly arriving. In fact the only times that Harry had actually left The Burrow were to visit Teddy and even then he'd Apparated directly there to avoid encountering anybody else.

He was even doing his best to avoid the other inhabitants of The Burrow, appearing at meals only at Mrs Weasley's insistence and then disappearing off to some solitary spot on the property. He hadn't spoken to anyone about the events of the last year and a half and if anyone so much as tried to bring any of it up he'd snap at them or leave the room as he had just done to Hermione. In fact just the other night she had come down to the kitchen in the dead of night for a glass of water and found Harry just sat in the moonlight, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes, lost in his own thoughts. It had taken a few seconds of Hermione talking to him before he'd even realised anybody else was in the room but once he had realised he was on his feet in a split second, wand pointed directly at her heart. But as he took in the look of terror on her face he dropped it with a muttered oath, as if it had burnt him.

Without realising it Hermione was up on her feet and pacing round the room. Of course Harry had always dealt with things internally rather talking to anybody and she certainly didn't want to change him in any way. It wasn't that she thought him weak or unable to handle things either, he was as strong as everyone believed, stronger even, the mythical Boy Who Lived who defeated Voldemort on more than one occasion. But he had been through so much, seen so much more than one soul should see and she didn't know how much more he could take. She herself had, after some gentle probing, had some very tearful conversations with Ginny and Mrs Weasley about the events since Bill and Fleur's wedding and was pretty certain that there had been some similar conversations between Ron, his father and brothers but Harry had spoken to nobody.

The gentle thud of rain hitting the window drew her attention and she saw Harry jogging towards the house. A moment later he entered the kitchen, shaking the rain water out of his hair. Not meeting her gaze he murmured a greeting as he headed for the stairs when Hermione called out, stopping him in his tracks.

"Harry, wait."

Harry turned around slowly. "Please don't Hermione, not now", he said in a strangely blank voice.

For a moment Hermione resigned herself to the fact that Harry was just going to disappear off alone somewhere no matter what she said but then a voice inside her pointed out that that was no reason not to try and get through to him. Nobody had wanted to push him too hard, hoping that in time he would start to deal with things in his own way but clearly that was not happening as the dark circles under his tired eyes could attest to.

"No, now is the perfect time," said Hermione heatedly, walking into the kitchen. "You're my best friend and I love you and I'm not going to let you keep pushing us away anymore. I'm so scared that you're drifting further and further away from us all each day and after everything you've been through I'm not going to let you give up now that Voldemort's gone."

Harry opened his mouth but now that Hermione had started she was determined to finish what she was saying.

"I know that now it's over you just want to put it in the past and move on, I understand that, of course I do. That's what we all want," she said, taking a step towards him. "But you can't do that until you come to terms with all the messed up stuff that's happened. At least if you started talking about it rather than just trying to pretend none of it happened that-"

It was as if Harry had torn off a mask at those words. The blank, impassive facade he had shown for weeks was gone and in its' place was a face so crumpled in anguish that it took Hermione's breath away and when he spoke it was in a soft, dangerous tone that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and sounded more like something that could have come from Snape rather than Harry.

"Don't you dare accuse me of trying to pretend none of this happened when I can think of nothing else. I don't need to talk about it with anybody when I relive it every night when I try and go to sleep."

Hermione was frozen to the spot by the pain in Harry's voice and tears dripped down her face. She could feel the pure magic beginning to roll off of Harry as he finally began acknowledging the emotions he had bottled up for so long. Everything in the kitchen started rattling. A ceramic pot fell off a table and smashed but Harry didn't notice it as his voice began to rise in volume. It seemed like all his thoughts and feelings from the last twelve weeks were all bubbling up to the surface and there was nothing he could do but let them out.

"Every time I close my eyes I see them all. Fred, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, my parents, Dumbledore, Moody, Cedric, Colin –" Harry's voice seemed to catch in his throat for a moment –"He was sixteen for Merlin's sake. And they're all there, every night, along with all the hoards of faceless people I didn't know personally, staring at me, wanting to know why I'm still alive when they're not."

"Oh Harry," Hermione sobbed. She tried to move closer to him but his magic seemed to have formed a sort of barrier and she couldn't reach him. More items were falling and breaking in the room but they took no notice of them. Hermione was desperately trying to reach Harry, who, tears now also streaming down his face simply continued to let his grief out.

"And what is there to move on to? My destiny since before I was born was to kill Voldemort or be killed by him and now that I've killed him and fulfilled my purpose for being alive what use am I to anybody? I might as well be dead. I should be dead."

This last sentence was said so quietly that it was almost inaudible but Hermione did hear it, but before she had time to do anything more than gasp all the excess magic in the room vanished, everything stopped rattling and Harry slumped to the floor, clearly completely drained. Hermione rushed to his side and managed to stop him from hitting the floor too hard.

For a moment he tried to resist as she pulled him into her arms but then relented, allowing her to pull them both into a vaguely comfortable sitting position. He wrapped his own arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder, his tears quickly soaking through her shirt, totally silent the whole time.

"Now you listen to me Harry James Potter," Hermione began, through her own tears. She wasn't sure whether Harry was even listening at the moment but that didn't matter. She would tell him now, and she would tell him later that day, and tomorrow and every day until it sunk in.

"I don't ever want you to say anything like that again. Just because Trelawney made a prophecy that Voldemort decided to believe it does not mean that that was your sole purpose in life. We all know what I think of that woman and her prophecies anyway."

Hermione was heartened to hear him give the smallest of chuckles.

"And as for what you move on to? What you want, whatever you want. If you want to, I don't know, teach Flobberworms to dance or travel the world with Luna looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkack then we'll all be behind you every step of the way. Of course I do think we all need to go back to Hogwarts for our final year. I mean we can't just not take our N.E.W.T.s."

Harry gave another chuckle.

"But maybe for now we should enjoy not having anything that we need to do and just take each day as it comes."

Harry raised his head to look at Hermione and with a watery smile and a hoarse voice said, "Thank you."

"Anytime. I mean that. Just please don't shut us out again."

"I won't," Harry replied, leaning his head back on her shoulder.

Hermione rested her head on top of his and the two of them sat silently together, not moving until the Weasleys returned home. Mrs Weasley took one look at the pair of them on the kitchen floor, tear tracks still clear on their faces, and sent them through to the living room with gentle hugs and promises of biscuits and hot chocolate to follow.

Hermione took a moment to study Harry's face as they settled into their chairs. She knew that this outburst wouldn't magically make everything better but with time he would be alright. They all would be.