w a l l
"Sometimes we put up walls. Not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down."
-PostSecret
Why are so many people in your flat? You're so confused and nobody will explain anything to you properly. (Granted, you're in no fit condition to ask. Or even speak, for that matter.) But when you look at them with your big doe eyes, they just smile and nod and hand you another plate of food.
And that's another thing- all the bloody food! What happened to mild fruits and vegetables? Or just takeout? No, now it's rich creams and sauces over pasta with beef and rolls and all sorts of horrible fattening things that you know your stomach can't handle. They couldn't leave well-enough alone.
One moment you're wrapped up in your Chudley Canons bedspread, and you haven't showered in two weeks and your telly is covered in noodles from when Dr. Who pissed you off and you chucked your pad thai at it. (You know you and the flat must reek, but to your nose it's a comforting sort of smell and you dwell in it.) The phone's been ringing off the hook but you don't really give a damn.
(How can you care about anything? You're just going to die, anyways.)
The next moment Harry's banging down the door to your flat hauling with him his trunks and Ron and Hermione. Thanks to a undetectable magical extension charm (thank God for Hermione, Harry says. But you aren't really paying attention because who cares?) Everyone fits quite comfortably and they're still able to have some privacy. Not that you get any of that these days. Privacy, that is.
And there are always people awake with you. Everything sharp has been taken away. (the knife that sat next to you on your bed to keep you some semblance of inanimate company has been stowed away by Harry. And of course you know where it is, but you don't have the energy to get out of bed.)
The last straw is when mum comes over to give you a bath, bringing with her George, Katie, Bill and Teddy. You just want them to leave.
But as you watch them move around your apartment, talk to you with love in their voices and hand you plate after plate of food (mum says you're at least seventy pounds less than you should weigh) you're heart swells.
The walls begin to crumble.