It's starting again, both Ron and I can tell. No matter how hard he tries, Harry can't hide it from us. His posture is stiffer, face set, tightly controlled, calm even. We know better. It'll last for an hour or so, his hand subconsciously traveling to his scar every few minutes, until he can't take it any more.
GTGTGT 2 hours later GTGTGT
This is it, I look at Ron and he knows it as well as I do. Harry's head just dropped to his hands and he sighed. That's the first sign, next he'll make some excuse to try and get away from us. He doesn't like us to see him like this, he thinks he's protecting us.
Harry looks up, "I'm going to get some air."
he gets up to go, Ron and I look at each other and stand as well. This has gone on long enough, we're done pretending we don't know what's going on. We stop him just before he reaches the door, blocking his exit. He looks at us quizzically for a moment and opens his mouth, I cut him off before he has a chance to say anything.
"Harry, please stop this," again he tries to speak but I stop him a second time, "We know what's going on Harry. Your scar is hurting, there's no point trying to convince us otherwise. We've known you long enough to be able to see every move you make trying to hide it." He seems to relax at this, like he's relieved that we know. A smile just makes it on to his face before he gasps in pain, his hands clasping his forehead.
"Harry!" I hear my worry echoed in Ron's voice as well. I reach out to Harry, but he flinches away.
"Mate," Ron whispers to him, "it'll be okay. Let us help you." Harry nods tentatively, still clutching his head. I'm not sure if he even understood what Ron said, but he must have understood the tone because he lets us lead him to one of the bunks.
By now Harry is shivering with the pain. We know it's going to get a lot worse before it's over. We also know that the only thing we can do is hold on to Harry and tell him it'll be okay.
GTGTGTGTGTGT
We're laying together on the bunk. The three if us. Ron and I on each side of Harry. It's over for the most part. Shivers still run through his body periodically, but they are nothing compared to the convulsions of earlier. Almost like he was under the cruciatus curse. He didn't scream, he forced himself not to. I think screaming would have been better though. Anything would have been better than the pitiful whimpers and choked back sobs that did escape him.
Now Harry's laying between us, still breathing slightly unevenly. His hand is gripping Ron's where it stilled rubbing comforting circles on Harry's chest. My Hand is still combing through his unruly black hair. His eyes are half open, shutting tightly as another tremor wracks his body. It stops but he keeps his eyes tightly shut. Ron leans down to whisper in Harry's ear as my hand joins the two on Harry's chest, my head now on his shoulder.
"It's alright, Harry. We've got you." Ron's right, we have Harry now and we aren't letting go for anything.