Moonlight shined dimly through the skewed curtains enveloping the closest window to Harry Potter's four poster bed. Behind the safety provided by the ruby drapes surrounding his accommodations, Harry laid tucked underneath a thick cover from head to toe. His breathing was shuffled and hot, but he preferred the comforting swell over the looming space above him. The musty scent of his own maturing self filled his lungs over and again. Sleep would not find him tonight, much like it had failed to do for the past week.

Often the sharp intake of breath or a cough could be heard from the other occupants of the fifth year's Gryffindor boarding. Harry willed them all to stay shielded away from him, hoping that he could find relief in his lonesome. Gravely his attempts of redemption for himself had continually failed. Rancorously he had come into believing that he deserved the anguish and guilt he was experiencing. He shut his eyes lazy with fatigue and dragged them open once more.

In the bed beside his right side, Ronald Weasley sat up with an abrupt choke and startled himself awake. He crawled off the mattress with an unpleasant squeal and staggered towards the lightless lavatory, massaging his strained throat idly along the way. Harry bit hard at his lip, wishing again that he was alone, fighting back the urges to reveal his anxiety to Ron. He took a quick swipe at the dew around his tired eyes and held his breath silently. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ron gulping down a glass of water as he returned to his patient bedding. Harry was envious of how simple it was for Ron to lay down once more and return to whatever dreams were filling his freckled head.

By the t ime Harry had managed enough courage to pester the other boy into talking with him, he heard the faintest snore and realized he was acting foolish. He heaved a sigh and shifted deeper into the down of his threaded sheets. He wondered if he would ever summon the desire to tell Ron about the pain he was feeling or if he would rather keep it tucked away inside until he had all but forgotten it. However, he knew perfectly that there would come a time where telling parts of his secret would be necessary, and maybe then in turn he would tell him about the pain he was enduring now. Yet some things are better left unsaid and perhaps that is how Harry would rather keep it.

Morning had soon approached, and Harry was awoken by the rustling of his roommates moving about outside his curtains. Like his routine had become, he waited until everyone else had left for breakfast. On some occasions Ron would slack on purpose so he could accompany Harry, but judging by the silence in the room, he had not today. Harry stretched out his lithe body and shoved his blankets off. He climbed out of his bed and wandered into the abandoned washroom, cleaning his face and running a comb through his defiant hair.

After dressing into clean robes, Harry made his way to the Great Hall. The morning sunlight was shining brightly in the magicked ceiling, illuminating the hall and it's occupants with a vivid glow. Harry took his regular seat beside Ron and across from Hermione, muttered a greeting and grabbed a glass of melting pumpkin juice.

Hermione tossed a pleading glance at Ron and then smiled weakly at Harry. "Good morning, Harry."

Harry looked begrudgingly toward her and nodded. He sipped at his juice without furthering the conversation. Again Hermione gave Ron an attentive look and sighed, returning to the toast and marmalade before her.

Sputtering a bit on his bacon, Ron swallowed. "Hey, Harry, since it's a weekend and all, you want to do something? You know, go play a round of chess or exploding snap."

Harry had nearly finished his drink, so he pushed it away from himself. He turned to look at Ron, who was biting his lip nervously. "Sorry Ron, I'm not really in the mood."

It barely took a moment for Hermione's mock friendly face to turn into one of agitation. "Harry, your attitude lately has been really sour, and I'm ripe sick of it. We all understand how you must feel, but don't you think your dragging it on? How do you expect to move on with your life if all you're going to do is mope around everywhere you go?"

Ron shot a cautious look at Hermione, "Leave him alone, Hermione! You wouldn't be in much of a mood to do anything either if you'd gone through what he has."

"He wasn't alone, we all experienced it and we're moving on. The school year is nearly over, Harry shouldn't waste his time being so crestfallen," she shifted her sight between both of her companions and continued in a softer voice. "Sunday is our last outing into Hogsmeade, we ought to make plans to enjoy ourselves, don't you think?"

Ron stared at her incredulously and turned to look for Harry's reaction. He was staring at Hermione with a toneless gaze while fiddling idly with a spare napkin. When Ron was about to retaliate, Harry opened his mouth. "It's alright Ron, she's right."
Hermione wavered and then regained her composure once more. "It'll be good for you, Harry. I'm sure it'll help to take your mind off everything."

Ron looked unsure between the two of them, but Harry did not make any advancements, so he relaxed. He fumbled with his scrambled eggs and said, "You ought to eat something, Harry."

Harry shook his head gently, and slid off the filling bench. "I'm not hungry, but I have some homework to catch up on, so if you don't mind. I'll see you later."

Ron and Hermione mumbled a reply and stared at his dark figure strolling out of the Great Hall. Hermione sighed and produced her quill with a small bit of parchment. She sat crossing off and scribbling some illegible notes when Ron interrupted her.

"Weren't harsh at all, were you?" Ron glowered at her from his seat.

"What are you talking about? I was being brutally honest and there isn't anything wrong with that," Hermione didn't look up from her papers as she spoke.

"You call that honesty? You were downright rude! Haven't you even thought about how he must feel or were you too busy doing homework to notice?"

Hermione moved her work aside and looked Ron squarely. "I understand he must be hurting, but someone has to help him move along with his life. Crying about it isn't going to bring Sirius back."

Ron bit his lip with irritation "Damn it, don't say it like that. No one understands that more than Harry. He's alone now, no family at all. Can't you imagine how he feels?"

It was her turn to glare at the redhead. "Don't tell me that, he isn't alone. He has us, and his aunt and uncle are still alive. He's the one being inconsiderate, the way he's acting."

"We are not the same as family. And it's normal for a person to act distant when they're in mourning! You have the least compassion of a girl I've ever met," Ron scowled at her from across the table. "He's hurting more than you know."

She raised her eyebrows at Ron's accusations. "I'm not asking much from him. I don't want to see him waste away, but if we ignore it he might."

"What are you talking about? He's perfectly capable of coming to his own senses. He's not going to stay like this forever, he knows how to handle himself."

Hermione scanned Ron skeptically. "Do you really think so? He's never really been the same since last year. I don't want him to become so closed. Haven't you noticed how much he's been avoiding us?"

Ron looked up at the clear sky above the hall and then back down to Hermione. "Just because he's been neglecting us is no reason to freak out. I wouldn't want to deal with my nosy friends if I were him at the moment either."

"I've had enough of this conversation. I'm not doing anything wrong and you know it," Hermione flashed a fed up look to Ron and shoved her work back into her school messenger bag. "If you need me, I'll be in the library."

And in a slight storm of long brunette locks and the click of heels, Hermione exited the Great Hall, leaving Ron in a daze. Soon he left as well, along with the other students who finished their breakfasts and were anticipating a lazy weekend day outside in the summer sun. By noon, hardly a single person could be found within the castle's many rooms or corridors.

Lucky for Harry, this was how he preferred it. He was seated in Gryffindor common room upon his regular couch, and apart from a few second years playing chess by the fireless hearth, he was alone. He had lied about homework, but he figured they knew as much. He stared aimlessly out the open window with solemn thoughts. Besides the fear and guilt he was feeling, Harry was also dreading the return to the Dursley's home. How he could deal with living there any longer with out killing himself was still a mystery. Maybe he'd be invited to stay with the Weasley's again. But the truth about why he had to return in the first place echoed in his mind and he doubted anyone would approve of him ditching the Dursley's quicker than he should.

Perhaps something else would happen, maybe he could stay with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. He'd be safe that way still, but it would be so much more livable. He thought fondly of Tonks, Mad-eye, Lupin... He wondered how his former professor must feel. Something like himself but worse he could imagine. Sirius had probably been the closest person to Lupin he had left, and now he was gone. In a stroke of concern, Harry searched his school bag and retrieved his quill and parchment. He folded it into his lap and began to write.

Dear Lupin,

The school year has nearly ended and I haven't heard a word from anyone outside Hogwarts. How is
everything going? Have you heard of his whereabouts?

Summer holiday's approaching too soon and I am finding myself very reluctant to enjoy these last few days of
school I have left. The Dursley's is the last place I want to be, but I suppose returning there is necessary.Nearly the
whole student bodyis in an oblivious array of happiness, I wish they were aware of what's happened.

Tomorrow will be our final visit into Hogsmeade for the year. I don't suppose I'll chance seeing anyone there.
We'll probably spend most of our time in the Three Broomsticks unless Ron and Hermione have something planned
I don't know about. The two of them have been acting strangely, but I suppose I can't blame them.

Write to me soon and let me know how you've been doing.

-Harry


 Harry hastily folded his letter and used his wand to create a muddy colored seal with a sloppy imprint of 'HP' engraved in the wax. He stood up and left the common room, in a patient rush. He had just passed the doors to the third floor corridor when he walked suddenly into a some what familiar, Slytherin clad girl.

"You'd better watch out, Potter," Pansy Parkinson leered at him, giving him a small push to her side. "It's not entirely safe for you to be walking around without your two golden sidekicks, is it?"

Harry looked down at her with annoyance. "Contrary, it's perfectly safe for me to wander wherever I please. Lest you're going to do something about it."

Parkinson sneered her arrogant face at him and maybe if she was accompanied by some other Slytherins, she may have chose to continue her feud with the coal haired boy. But seeing as she was alone, she nearly scoffed at him and continued her way up the stairs. Harry half wondered what any Slytherin had business going beyond the dungeons on a weekend, but abandoned the thought when he reached the fields and corridors leading to the Owlery outside.

Harry called for Hedwig upon entering the owl's resting place. Attentively, the snowy bird came to him and pecked at his treat laden hand. He gave instructions on who to deliver the parcel to and gave her a final stroke to send her on the way. He watched with envy as Hedwig took flight into the azure sky and faded into the background of milky clouds.

Harry sighed to himself and decided he did not want to go back to Gryffindor tower just yet. He took a long and leisurely walk along the lake's edge, not paying attention to his fellow students laughing in the distance. He approached Hagrid's hut, purposely passing without a word. He continued until his feet were too warm for comfort and then took his time returning to his common room.

When he finally reached it, the place had filled up a bit. Ron was in their usual corner, shooting any mosquito or spider that found it's way into his vicinity with a quick zapping spell. Harry took a seat near his and watched him. When the wandering bugs finally noticed they were endangered and had found a new place to hover, Ron put his wand back into his pocket and turned to Harry.

"Are you finally up for a game, mate?" Ron said with a small grin on his tanning face.

Harry eyed the chess table and gave a short nod.

There games lasted well into the afternoon, with a small break for tea and sandwiches. Hermione did not arrive until nearly sunset, but her mood seemed to have sweetened since earlier. Ron had muttered something about letters from 'that Krum person' being the cause, but Hermione had not mentioned anything of the sort. They spent more of their time talking than they had playing games, but that was fine on all their parts. Harry never mentioned anything that was truly eating at them, he was comfortable having adolescent conversations with his friends. Perhaps tomorrow he would say something if the occasion arose. They stayed up late with few interruptions, and when they went to bed that night, Harry found sleeping to be a much easier task than it had previously been.