This is written for The Golden Snitch!

I'm in South, Castelobruxo!

Through The Universe: Flare Star — (object) gun

This was inspired by a pic on tumblr, of Daniel Radcliffe filming for Guns Akimbo. If you haven't seen the pictures, please, Google them! :D

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"Harry, no!" yelled Hermione, trying to grasp the bathrobe on Harry's retreating figure. He had gone mental. Lazing about everyday, eating nothing but sweets and junk food. She was at her wits end!

His odour was pungent, and Hermione couldn't tell if a swamp mixed with rotting food was better or worse than Harry's musky scent. And everytime Hermione tried to bring up his unhealthy hygiene habits, he shrugged her off.

Today, he was clad in a white tee shirt, stained with grease and Cheeto dust. His light grey boxers were smattered with yellow ducks and what Hermione hoped and prayed was only drippage from his drink. He wore a blue plaid bathrobe over top, with white socks, and obnoxiously large tiger paw slippers.

He'd been in this uncaring state for a month now. Unfortunately for Harry, he'd walked in on Ginny in a compromising position with not only Michael Corner, but with Blaise Zabini, and Cormac McLaggen as well.

His facial hair had grown out, his hair was even more shaggy than it once was. He quit his job as an Auror, and had holed himself up in Ron and Hermione's small flat since.

It wasn't that Hermione didn't feel bad for him - because she did - but that Harry didn't want to even try to function anymore. Ron, being the ass that he was, had left Hermione to her own devices on fixing Harry, stating that he couldn't get in the middle of it because Ginny was his sister.

Chasing after Harry, who had suddenly looked more alive, and honestly terrifying, after the past month of being nothing more than a potato, she was wary on what he was doing.

By the time she had gotten to the ground floor of the building and out onto the sidewalk, he was gone.

Honestly, not having the time nor energy to hunt him down, Hermione headed back upstairs.

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Hermione soon settled in their living room and turned on the telly. She had prepared a nice cup of hot tea, and was looking forward to catching up with the muggle news.

Turning to Channel Four, she was shocked to see none other than Harry on the telly. However, two big differences had happened since he ran out of the flat.

Firstly, his fists were bloody and swelling rapidly. There looked to be chucks embedded into his skin, and there was clumps of dried blood in some areas.

Secondly, Harry was brandishing about two muggle pistols. She instantly recognized them as Rons - a Christmas gift from her last year, to try and draw him into her Muggle heritage. She didn't agree with guns, for obvious reasons, but as long as Ron was safe when he used them on the range then she was okay.

However, she had no idea Harry had gained access to them, and he was now having a yelling match against a Police Officer.

Harry had finally gone bonkers, and Hermione would have to, once again, pick up the pieces.

Her cuppa sat forgotten as she made her way to wiggle Harry out of this mess as well.