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Voldemort sat awake with a book open in his lap. He hadn't slept ever since he had left Harry. The words eluded him and his thoughts kept wandering off to him, his ears filled with his voice, his eyes clouded by his images. He couldn't get him out of his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried. His hands balled into fists and he tossed the book away. His head was spinning, aching, but that pain was nothing compared to what he felt in his heart and soul. He needed him. He needed Harry as much as he needed oxygen but he couldn't be that selfish. Couldn't have him because he didn't deserve him. His heart refused to accept that. It was adamant on yearning for Harry. At this rate, he was going to go insane.
He paced the room restlessly. He hadn't felt this restless before but after seeing Harry so broken, so weak and with the news he had delivered, he just couldn't bear to be away from him anymore. He needed to keep him in his sights, he had to know that Harry was safe….just needed to be close to him. Harry was everything to him now and he couldn't live without him. Couldn't stand to anymore.
Harry stared up at the ceiling blankly, his eyes wide open, his hands folded over his stomach. Even the castle's warmth couldn't comfort him or lull him to sleep. Harry tossed and turned. The pain was unbearable and Harry sat up straight. He kicked away the covers and got up to his feet. He couldn't stand it anymore. It was as if he had crossed some invisible threshold and now he couldn't tolerate the pain anymore. Harry stared at Voldemort's side of the bed. His eyes were burning and his chest felt heavy as if it were filled with lead. He could no longer see clearly. All he knew was that he was gone, out of his life for possibly forever. His brain screamed at him to look away, to stop thinking, but Harry absolutely refused to, even as his lips trembled and his shoulders heaved with emotion, he remained unwilling to back down. His dark lashes brimmed heavy with tears; his hands clenched into shaking fists, in a desperate battle against the grief. A lone tear traced down his cheek, and just like that, the floodgates opened.
He wept, tears streaming from his emerald green eyes, loud, heaving sobs tearing from his throat, and still he didn't look away. Not until the sobs drove him to his knees did his determined gaze fall. He bit down on the back of his hand to hold back the sobs racking his body. Harry cried as if the ferocity of it might bring Voldemort back; as if by the sheer force of his grief everything that had happened would be undone and Voldemort would be laying back on the bed with him.
He cried until there was nothing left inside but a raw emptiness that nibbled at his insides like a hungry rat. His muffled sobs filled the silence of the room. The world turned into a blur, and so did all the sounds. The taste. The smell. Everything was gone. The last painful wave of emotion slammed against him before he lost the feeling of feeling. Everything darkened into nothingness as he passed into the oblivion of unconsciousness.
When he regained consciousness, the sun was shining through the window and bathing him in its warm light. He was sprawled out on the carpet and his entire body felt heavy like each limb weighed twice as much as it had before and just moving it about was a slow, painful effort. He knew he had to get up soon but it felt so difficult. Slowly Harry pushed himself to his knees and then to his feet. He managed to stumble to the bathroom, turned on the shower and pushed himself directly under the cold spray. He welcomed the pebbles the cool water caressing his skin. Even though letting go of the tears had unburdened him to some extent, everything inside him was still burning and screaming. He envisioned the water, cooling down everything inside him and soothing the pain. It worked to some extent and Harry felt prepared enough to face another day.
He extradited himself from his heavy, soaked clothes and looked at himself in the mirror. His irises were threaded scarlet and every line of his face screamed out that he was in pain. He exited the bathroom and picked up his wand. He felt grateful to Voldemort for all the studying he had made him do because he wouldn't have known how to cast a glamour if it hadn't been for that. The glamour worked like a charm because he almost didn't recognize himself when he looked at himself in the mirror again. His practiced his smile and after dressing up, stepped out of the room. He made his way down the hallway, smiled and nodded as he passed several death eaters. The castel was bustling with activity. And the castle was mostly happy but Harry could feel that it felt his pain and shared his grief.
He located Sirius near the kitchens who instantly dragged him away for breakfast. Harry didn't have an appetite but he was relieved at the fact that Sirius couldn't see through his glamour. Breakfast was a quick affair and soon enough Harry was seated at his office in the ministry with the The Daily Prophet infront of him. The advertisement for Hogwarts took up most of the front page. They had set the interview date for tomorrow and Harry hoped that there were some skilled wizards and witches eager enough to teach at Hogwarts. But, somehow, he couldn't bring himself to be optimistic.
Harry was just on his way to attend a hearing when the lights began to flicker in the hallway before dying out completely and Harry paused in his steps. Everyone around him must have grown still as well because everything went silent. The atmosphere grew piercingly, bitingly cold and Harry instantly lit up his wand. Following his lead several other wands lit up behind him. He knew this cold…...would know it anywhere. His breath fogged up in front of his face, he could see it in the collective wand light. His stomach turned over when he saw that several towering, hooded figures gliding smoothly towards him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the air as it came.
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