A/N: Hi everybody! Before you start reading, I wanted to let you know a few things. First and foremost, this will not be a happy fic. It has mentions of self-harm, panic attacks, and depression. If these are triggering to you, please do not read any further. Second, there will be short chapters, most likely at irregular intervals. Finally, I haven't finished writing it yet, but I think it's going to end in some sort of slash, though I don't think it will get explicit in that way.
This chapter is mainly setting the plot, and the point of view will be listed at the top of each chapter. While most of it is from Hermione's POV, the story mainly revolves around Harry.
Thanks for reading!
-faceless
1- Hermione POV
"This is ridiculous," Ron muttered as soon as it was announced, but it couldn't shake my pride.
"Well," I sniffed, "I'm just happy I got it."
"No! Don't get me wrong, 'Mione, you totally deserve it. That prick just doesn't." Ron shot a glare at the Slytherin table as if I didn't already know who he was talking about.
"Language, please."
"Sorry 'Mione." He gave me a peck on the lips, glancing at Harry as soon as he'd pulled back. He'd been silently watching us, but looked back at his food when we turned to him.
"What do you think of it, Harry? You know, Malfoy being Head Boy?"
Harry shrugged, not looking up from his dinner again. He was silent a lot nowadays.
"You didn't want to be it did you?"
He shook his head, looking up at me. I knew what he wanted so I opened my mind to him, a picture of his bed appearing immediately with a questioning air around it.
"Sure Harry, you can go to bed. We don't mind," I looked to Ron to make sure speaking for him was okay, and he nodded. Harry's brow furrowed, obviously his new method of communication hadn't worked. Once Voldemort was gone and no longer holding open his mind, his Occlumency and Legilimency has improved far beyond what any of us had expected. When he didn't feel like talking - which was most of the time now - he sent us pictures and thoughts to communicate as best he could.
He sighed and the bed appeared in my head, this time with me crawling into it beside him.
"Oh! Of course Harry. Just call and I'll be there whenever you need me." I told him. I'd taken to crawling into his bed when he woke with nightmares, sometimes even leaving Ron's bed to do so. Ron's jealousy had vanished with Harry's voice, and he even sometimes joined us, holding Harry's body between ours like we were parents comforting a child as Harry cried himself back to sleep.
Harry stood up to leave, sending a more forceful picture of his bed now - obviously telling us that's where he was going.
"Okay, mate. You don't have to ask, you know," Ron told him. Harry looked back and forth between us, searching for something. Whatever it was he found, and he sent a picture of him kissing first my cheek then Ron's.
"We love you too!" I called after him as he left.
"I worry about him," Ron told me when Harry'd gone, and I nodded in agreement, still watching the empty doorway.
A/N: Let me know what you think!
