A/N: Many thanks to krazyredhead0317 for looking this over! This was originally written for the HP Mental Health Fest on LJ. I hope everyone enjoys! xx

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. I also don't own Shakespeare's Sonnets. Enjoy!

Picking Up The Pieces

Harry was walking down the hallway of Grimmauld Place, not quite paying attention to where he was going. He knew that Hermione was due to arrive today, and he couldn't wait to see her. The two of them had been dating for a little over a year now after having gotten together after Cedric's death. Hermione had picked up the broken pieces of his life and helped put him back together.

The Order would be meeting later and Harry felt a bit miffed that no one was including him. He felt that he, more than anyone else, had a right to be at that meeting. He wasn't a child. Voldemort had made sure of that.

Two loud pops sounded out, startling Harry. Fred had Apparated right in front of him, with George appearing behind him.

"Harry," Fred grinned. "Just who we were looking for."

"You were looking for me?" Harry asked. "Whatever for?"

"We wanted you to test something out for us." George smirked. "If you could head towards the closet, you'll see."

Harry looked at them warily. Something didn't make sense. "What could possibly be in the closet?"

"Here, drink this," Fred said, pulling a vial from his pocket and handed it to him.

Harry took the vial, but didn't drink it. "What will it do?"

"Don't you trust us?" Fred asked. "Go on, drink it. It won't kill you."

"At least it shouldn't," George muttered quietly.

Sighing, Harry drank the vial. It tasted sweet, like bubblegum. "There, I drank it. Now what?"

"Head to the closet," George said, pointing to the closet at the end of the hall. "That's the only way we'll find out if it works."

"What's it supposed to do?" Harry asked, slowing walking towards the closet.

"You'll see," Fred said. "Go on, open the closet."

Harry eyed them warily before opening the closet door. "There's nothing in here," he said, glancing at the cleaning supplies. "What—" His question was cut off as he was shoved forward. He heard the closet door slam shut behind him and his eyes widened in panic. "Let me out!" he cried, standing up. He tried to door, but it wouldn't budge.

"Are you glowing?" Fred shouted through the door.

"What?" Harry looked down at his body. "No, I'm not bloody glowing. Now open this door!"

"Can't!" George shouted. "We need to know if the potion will work. We'll check back on you in a bit to see if you're glowing."

"You can't leave me in here!" Harry shouted angrily. He cursed himself for leaving his wand at his bedside table. What use did it do him there?

He heard their footsteps fade and knew that he was alone.

Harry's eyes strained to see in the darkness as he tried to look around. His heart began to race and his palms grew sweaty. He hated small spaces. Absolutely loathed them. They brought back memories of his time under the cupboard.

He closed his eyes as he attempted to get his breathing under control. Instead, it grew more erratic. His body started to shake. The walls were closing in on him. There was no way to escape. He would suffocate here… He would die here in this closet.

Stop that, his conscience tried to tell him, but the panic won out. He gasped for air, shaking his head.

The twins would be back soon… They just had to be.

Hermione walked into Grimmauld Place, an excited smile on her face. She had just returned from her holiday in France with her parents and she was eager to see Harry and Ron to tell them all about it.

"Hello," she greeted the twins, seeing them in the kitchen. Looking around, she saw no one else was there. "Do you know where Harry is?"

"Upstairs in the broom closet," Fred answered.

"We're waiting to see if he starts to glow."

Hermione's eyes widened. "What do you mean he's in the broom closet? What have you done!" she demanded, knowing that Harry suffered from claustrophobia.

"We locked him in there. No need to get fussy, Hermione, he's fine," Fred said with a wave of his hand.

"You idiots!" Hermione shouted angrily, turning and running towards the stairs. She ran to the second floor as quickly as she could. "Harry!" she cried, stopping in front of the closet. Pulling out her wand, she unlocked the door. Flinging it open, she cried out his name when she saw him on the floor curled into a small ball.

"Oh, Harry, shhh, it's okay," she said, getting down on the floor. She wrapped her arms around him and felt that he was shaking. "Harry, it's okay, I've got you."

"Hermione," he whispered, looking at her. Tears were steadily streaming down his face.

"Shhh, it's okay," she said once more, trying to calm him. "I've got you. You're okay."

"The closet," he whispered, trembling even harder in her arms. "It was so dark."

"I know," Hermione said gently. "The twins didn't know, Harry. They wouldn't have if they did."

Having followed the angry brunette witch, Fred spoke up. "Blimey, Harry, I didn't know you were afraid of closets." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed of the situation.

"Yeah, sorry, mate," George said, coming up behind his twin. "We didn't know. Can we get you anything?"

"No," Hermione snapped at them angrily. "You can leave him alone and go pull a prank on someone else."

"It wasn't a prank," Fred retorted.

"We were just trying to see if the glow-in-the-dark potion worked," George added.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but stopped when she felt Harry let out a small whimper. Harry needed her. "Come on, Harry," she said gently, helping him to his feet. "Let's go up to the library. I know you like it there by the big window." The two of them took a few steps before they stopped. "Fred, bring us some tea."

"Sure thing," Fred said, turning on his heels and heading towards the kitchen. George followed him.

"Now, let's go upstairs," Hermione said. She was careful to help him walk as he was still shaking badly. "It'll be okay," she said, trying to calm him. "You're not trapped anymore."

Once the two of them made it to the library, they both took a seat on the large window sill. There were pillows there, and Hermione did her best to make Harry comfortable. She could feel his heart racing in his chest.

"It's okay," she said, taking his hand. She gave it a light squeeze, reassuring him that she was still there. "Fred is coming with some tea. That'll help your dry throat, Harry."

"Thank you," he murmured, his face turning red.

"There's no need to thank me or be embarrassed, Harry. I love you. I don't mind helping you at all."

"It just… The closet reminded me of my childhood," Harry said, a sad look in his eyes. "I was so alone all the time. All I ever wanted was to be loved."

"You are loved," Hermione replied firmly. "I love you so much, and so does Ron and the rest of the Weasleys. Sirius and Remus love you too." She smiled. "I think Professor Dumbledore loves you as well."

Harry tried to smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He was still shaking slightly, but not as bad as he was before. He could feel his body start to relax. The effects of his panic attack were fading.

"I've brought the tea," Fred said, poking his head into the doorway. He entered the room and crossed it, placing the tray on the table near them. "I had no idea, Harry. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right," Harry responded. "You couldn't know. I… I've never told anyone but Hermione."

"I'm sorry," Fred repeated, feeling guilty for causing Harry so much distress.

"It's fine," Harry assured him. "The potion never worked." He frowned. "Guess you'll have to tweak the potion."

"Bummer," Fred said. "Well, better go tell George. Feel better, Harry, and again, I'm sorry." He left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione prepared the tea the way she knew Harry liked it. She could feel his gaze on her and she blushed. "Stop that," she said quietly.

"Stop what?" Harry asked, a small smile on his face.

She handed him his tea. "The way you're looking at me…"

"You're beautiful," Harry said gently. His smile deepened when he saw her blush even more. "Once again, Hermione, you've put me back together. It seems that's becoming a habit."

"Stop," she replied. "You put yourself together all the time." She handed him his tea before taking a sip of her own. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Harry. You're a strong person, you don't need me to put you back together."

"I do," Harry said. "You always help me through it. You and Ron." He sipped at his tea. "I'm grateful to have you in my life."

"I love you," she said, leaning forward to give him a brief kiss. She smiled at him. "Do you feel okay now?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I feel like normal again." It was true, his body had returned to its normal state. His body was no longer shaking and his heart was beating its usual rhythm. "Will you read to me? I like to listen to your voice."

Hermione laughed. "Do you? I always thought it annoyed both you and Ron."

Harry blushed. "Only when you're rambling about things Ron and I are clueless about."

"You wouldn't be clueless if you listened to me when I spoke," Hermione teased him. She stood, smoothing out her blouse. "What would you like me to read?"

"Shakespeare's sonnets," Harry requested, smiling. "I love when you read Shakespeare."

Hermione sighed. "Of course you do." She made her way towards the shelf and pulled the book from it. Making her way back towards Harry, she positioned herself next to him. The two of them now sat side by side on the sill.

"I love you," Harry said gently, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Thank you."

She flushed. "I love you too, but stop thanking me. There's no need. I'll always be here for you, Harry, for whatever you need. I'll put you back together whenever you need me to."

He smiled, grateful to have her. She had helped him though so many rough patches in the past and knew she would continue to do so in their future. With the threat of Voldemort looming over their heads, he was sure there would be ample opportunity for her to help him.

Hermione opened the book to Sonnet 18. She began to read. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate…"

Harry groggily opened his eyes. The room was dark and he knew the two of them must have fallen asleep on the sill. Looking down, he saw Hermione was tucked into his side; her wild curls covering her face. The book was open in her lap to Sonnet 43. She must have read a bit before falling asleep.

Stretching his arms up over his head, he suddenly realized he was glowing! He stifled a laugh, not wanting to wake Hermione. He made a mental note to tell the twins in the morning that their potion did work; it just took some time.

"Harry?" Hermione asked sleepily, shifting against him.

"Yes?" he asked.

"You okay?" She peered up at him, her brown eyes wide with concern.

"Just fine," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Don't be scared," she whispered tiredly before falling back asleep.

Harry summoned a blanket and covered them both with it. He closed his eyes, knowing that his claustrophobia would never be so bad so long as Hermione was by his side. She would always be there to hold him together when he couldn't do it himself.