Main Prompt: Unfairness (cannot write about a character who canonically displays the flaw)
Secondary Prompts: 2.[word] fleeting and 7.[dialogue] "I wouldn't blame you if you hated me."
Word Count: 1110
~wWw~
The war had changed everything for Harry James Potter, everything. He had gained so much, then in an instant lost it all. He lost Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore and so many more: friends, housemates, family. The war had taken a great deal from everyone, but so much more from him.
That isn't to say that Harry had no one anymore, he still had the Weasleys and Hermione, but he had pushed them all away. His demons from the war were haunting him. They still reached out to him attempting to fix the bonds he had unfairly broken, but their conversations were fleeting at best. They didn't know how to help him, and he didn't seem to want their help.
Harry's lack of contact hurt them all, of course, they didn't know exactly what he was feeling but they had their own share of pain they had to heal from. So they healed together, the bonds between them growing stronger all while their relationships with Harry dwindled. It's not that they wanted to lose their relationships with Harry but they didn't have the energy or motivation to keep trying to talk to him. To them it was obvious he didn't want to talk, they didn't know why but he had made his choice. And even if his choice hurt them they would respect it.
Hermione was the most hurt out of all of them, she had been there for Harry through thick and thin, no matter what, no matter how much his words hurt her. She didn't care. She did everything she could for him. She risked her health to help him. She fought in the war at his side yet he disregarded it. It didn't matter that she had taken him in after the war when he had nowhere else to go. He had left her with barely even a goodbye. He didn't even leave a note for her.
The loss of contact was jarring for her. They went from talking every day to never talking. It took her a week to hunt him down, a whole week. He was staying in a bad part of muggle London, somewhere that had no meaning to anyone. She hadn't actually seen him since he had left. She knew he was alone from her surveillance of his flat. Hermione knew that watching him was a bad idea, an invasion of privacy but she was worried about him, worried about how he was coping, in the past Harry hadn't always had the best coping mechanisms and she just wanted to ensure that he was okay, well at least that he wasn't a risk to himself. She was pretty sure he wouldn't hurt himself but she still checked up on him periodically.
~wWw~
Harry knew he had hurt his friends with his disappearance. He also knew that Hermione had watched his flat for a week and he was touched by their care. But at the same time, he couldn't bear to see them. They were a reminder of everything he had lost, and he had lost a lot. The rational part of his brain knew he was being unfair to them but he couldn't see them - it brought too much pain along with it, too many memories, too many nightmares. Since leaving his friends behind he didn't have nightmares every night, maybe one every other day and he was glad for the improvement. It helped, it was like he was a perfectly normal person with no knowledge of magic or the supernatural, it was like he had never been to Hogwarts like he hadn't fought in a war as a child soldier. It was like he was normal.
But he wasn't. No matter how hard Harry tried he couldn't be normal, everything was too boring. He had a job ringing up groceries at a local store and he hated it. He hated it with a passion. Everything was too mundane, too simple. He didn't mind the work, just the people, he didn't like their questions or even interacting with them. Each of them reminded him a bit of his friends who he had left behind and who he had lost.
The little old lady who visited the store every Thursday loved to read, just like Hermione. She would read everything and anything and every week she would tell Harry about her newest book. He both hated and loved her stories.
The young boy who visited each Monday with his mother reminded him of Ron, he was so mischievous and liked to cause trouble. He would sit on the counter beside Harry and talk to him as they watched his mother shop. He would tell Harry about all of his adventures during the week, often causing him to laugh.
It was them who made Harry realize how unfair of him it was to leave his friends behind, but it was also then who made him realize how much he missed his friends and their presence. He missed Hermione's silent support and Ron's not-so-silent support. He was wrong to leave them even if he was hurt, they were hurt too. Ever since he had left he had had fleeting thoughts of returning but those thoughts had become less fleeting and more consistent. But Harry didn't know how to go back, he didn't know how to go back without hurting them more. He betrayed them and he didn't know if he could ever regain that trust but he knew he needed to try.
So Harry put in his notice at work. And every day he flip-flopped his position internally debating every little thing attempting to find any reason to never go back to them. But he couldn't find a reason, he was wrong to leave them. Harry packed up his things, shrinking his trunk to fit into his pocket and left his flat. Turning on his heel, he pictured the Burrow in his head, the place where he spent so many of his summers.
~wWw~
He stood outside of the building still as crooked as before the war. He didn't know whether to enter the building or run, every fibre of his body screamed for him to run but every fibre of his heart screamed for him to say. So with one last fleeting moment of fear, he stepped into the busy Burrow.
"I wouldn't blame you if you hated me," he said. Before anyone could say anything Hermione ran to him, wrapping him in her arms. It took a moment before he engulfed her in his arms. About a minute later Hermione started pounding on his chest.
"I trusted you and you left me, you left all of us!"