It was about nine a.m the following morning. Harry had barely slept; he had lain awake almost the whole night, sleep faithfully eluding him. He had dropped into nothing more than light dozes one or twice, but otherwise the night had dragged out slowly and relentlessly.
There was a bowl of porridge in front of him.
Harry sculpted small mountains and valleys in it, marveling that something so nourishing could look so much like another animal's vomit.
Speaking of vomiting, that's why he wasn't eating. On spoonful and he felt like it would end up having a bit of an out-of-body experience, in the most literal sense.
There was honey in the porridge, he could smell it. Its sweetness was what was putting him off.
Harry sighed resolutely and leaned back into his pillows in the silence of the ward. He stared miserably at the ceiling.
He just wanted to be able to know what to think now, but everything was so... messy in his head. There wasn't any more clear space in which he could just sort of... exist. Everyone had, at best, a greasy grip on the rope of sanity, and it really did not take much to let go. There were two choices: dig your nails in and fight, or slip. Harry had done both... where was he
(purposeless)
now? How could he be described
(purposeless yes, everything's gone, nothing to live for anymore, I'm an icon a model and people only look at the shell and not ME)
now?
His entire world had dissolved. Everything he thought he knew had been shaken
(shaken away what about ME ME ME ME ME ME ME and no one listens)
to its foundations, and he would have to start building all over again.
People were gone. That was the root of
(ME ME ME ME ME ME)
the Death Eaters' attacks. They considered people things. Hell, every crime started off by thinking of people as things.
His head was buzzing with thoughts. He tried to dampen down the noise, but his brain remained as active as ever. He took several deep, slow breaths, and the volume turned down a little. He continued in this fashion until he was barely aware of his body any more, just of the steady, regular breaths. He was entirely relaxed, and he opened his eyes again.
Everything was a lot clearer, and not just his vision. He felt a deep swell of emotion writhing him, but he couldn't
(die)
pinpoint it.
He put the bowl on his bedside table and pushed it away from him very slightly. This action was more for his benefit; it was an indication that he was not ready to eat.
The door to the hospital wing swung open. Harry didn't look up. It closed again, and footfalls he didn't recognise stepped smartly towards him. They stopped by his bed. Harry continued to contemplate his hands.
He heard the sounds of a chair being drawn up from the bed next to him, and more for the benefit of knowing who would be talking to him, he looked up.
Remus Lupin smiled back at him.
Something stuck in Harry's throat for a moment.
"Professor Lupin?"
"I think 'Remus' will do for now, Harry." Lupin leant forwards and embraced Harry tightly. Harry buried his face in Lupin's shoulder and hugged back as tightly as he could.
Lupin held out Harry at arm's length and studied him with a sad look on his face, despite the smile. Harry tried to smile back.
"I hear you've been having a tough time of it."
Harry lay back and grinned sardonically at the ceiling. "In a manner of speaking..."
"I came to visit you before, but you... well, you were a bit out of it. I've had to spend the last week or so with Dumbeldore, clearing up this unholy mess. Fudge wants you incarcerated, you know," he added. Harry looked back at him, and raised an eyebrow. "On what grounds?"
"You know, his usual, you've heard it often enough... 'mentally unstable', 'danger to others', etcetera. I've got a mind to sue him right back for negligence of action in a dangerous situation."
"Oh, yes, they were there, weren't they... don't bother. Why were you helping Dumbledore?"
"Fudge had a certain Delores Umbridge as a backup witness. Myself, Albus, Minerva and Severus –"
"Snape?"
"Yes he described you as completely insane but harmless. Anyway, we fought back with your superb DADA results, attiude towards teachers, and the minor fact that you've had to encounter some form of Voldemort on an almost annual basis for the past six years. We asked if Fudge would like to swap position with you for a day."
"So...?"
"The press is hounding after you, Fudge hates your guts and Severus hates himself for pleading for your harmlessness."
"Ah, normality..."
Lupin laughed, but he lookeed saddened. "You're not looking after yourself, Harry."
"I'm doing my best under the circumstances. I could say the same for you. New werewolf regulations?"
"No, but the current ones still make getting a job reasonably difficult."
There was a short silence.
"What's it like being the last Marauder?" asked Harry softly, settling his gaze on Lupin. Lupin looked startled, and Harry was forced to note how he looked so, so tired.
I wonder if I look the same to him?
"What do you mean, Harry? Peter -"
"That rat forfeited his place as a Marauder a long, long time ago. You're the only Maurauder left still living."
Lupin gave this grave contemplation.
"Harrowing," he said a last, and ever so quietly. "Scary. How many people have died at Voldmort's hands? James, Lily, Sirius, the Diggory boy, those in Hogmeade... too many, Harry, too many. All I can think now is why it is that I am still alive, after all this time. It's a heavy burden you've got, and I begrudge you it only because someone so young doesn't deserve such a thing."
He knew even as he said this, that it wasn't true. Harry Potter wasn't young anymore. He'd bypassed his childhood a long time ago, and left behind a pair of calm, serene, empty green eyes and a bucketful of cynicism.
"And sometimes I wonder," he found himself saying, "If he hasn't killed you too."
Harry gave him a long, slow, impossible stare. He concluded by leaning back again, folding his arms behind his head, and staring silently up at the ceiling.
Lupin carried on regardless.
"Look at yourself, Harry. You're wasting away. You look like Death warmed up. You're not eating properly, if at all…" He nodded toward the bowl on the bedside table. " …and you're letting yourself slip down a perilous slide. I care for you, Harry. We all do. We see you like this, and don't you think it hurts us too?"
Harry smiled waveringly.
"If you were anyone else you'd be running away with purple spotted skin by now."
"Believe me Harry, I'm playing that advantage as much as I possibly can." He pulled his chair closer. "You need someone to talk to, Harry. D'you think -" He looked away. "D'you think Sirius survived all this time on his own? James and myself were always willing to talk to him, and he said it would always make him feel better."
There was a fairly measurable silence.
"I feel so pointless," said Harry abruptly. Lupin's head jerked up. Harry hadn't moved.
"Why?"
"I've nothing to do. Everything's a bit... well, worthless. Compare us to the world in general."
"Well, for a start, if every person thought that and then died away there would be no world. Every person is important."
"Some more than others."
"No, Harry," said Lupin very quietly. "Some just think they are. In reality, it's just more responsibility that gives them delusions of importance."
Harry straightened up a little in his bed and Lupin noticed shrewdly that there was a gleam in Harry's eye he'd seen someplace else. Of course...
"You've been talking to Severus, haven't you?"
"What?" Harry's head jerked up in genuine confusion.
"You've been talking to Severus. I'd recognise that cynical gleam anywhere. That man should come with a warning label."
"And a jingly bell so you know where he is at all times. You could tie it to his nose. It's big enough."
Lupin appeared to suppress a shudder. "Please, Harry, I don't need that mental image."
Harry smiled a little.
"Do you still have our old map?" asked Lupin suddenly.
"Of course," Harry replied with a snicker.
"Keep it to hand, Harry. Never lend it to anyone else. I have a feeling it could prove to be very useful soon."
He appeared to sigh, and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "I'd best be off. Needed back at the Ministry, and all."
Harry pulled a face. "Remember me to Fudge, won't you."
"It goes without saying. Now I believe there are some people outside who are desperate to see you..."
He was halfway down the ward when he stopped and turned around.
"Do try to keep care of yourself," he said softly, and his fading footsteps were replaced by Ron's, Hermione's and Ginny's.
Shading in Grey: I don't think Ginny's given enough credit... read the fifth book and you realise she's really quite bright.
Dead Feather: The plot twist was Voldemort's attack... then there was Hogsmeade... and the final one happens almost at the end, which, regrettably enough, is only a few chapters away.
a friendly sort: 'Disparity'... hmm. Perhaps the difference is between happiness and psychosis? I don't know, I'm just trying to find a way to leave it in because I'm too lazy to correct it. ; )
fhippogriff: Wahey for italicised comments! Brought 'em back a) because I missed them and b) for you: )
Draco'sBrokenAngel: Interesting name change, Aseia.
Strega: Hey there. Snape isn't exactly the most tactful of people, and I tried to play that in chapter 30. Snape used the trio as an evaluation... but on-one likes to find out they were used, I suppose.
Read300300: I'm flattered you find my conversations interesting: ) Glad Im good at sarcasm.
USA-Jeanette: The culminations of the smallest things in life is THE only reason to live. If I looked at the big picture I'd likely get so depressed as to kill myself. The human brain is not built to cope to think in the broader terms... and unfortunately, that's what Harry has to do.
Sivy: Glad you like it.
crazyNM: Dunno... I think Hermione and Ron are a little too wrapped up in each other. Still.
I think the chances of a boy being treated like Harry in real lifeand emerging relatively unscathed is very small.
Teahleafs: You DO like to review, don't you?
Your review was great! It pinpointed every emotion I'd involved in the story, and I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. Looks like I'm doing something right! Review again!
MoonGirlGin: I would LOVE to make Snape lovey-dovey but I can't work it. So I'm sticking with the mean, evil guy we all love and hate.
Kalorna Enera: It's OK. Review when you can!
I like to now my descriptions are worth something... I've been trying to practise them recently. You know, to sort of look eyond the physical. No, there will be no suicide attempts. I'm only telling you this because the story's not far from its finish! Review when you can!
Bottlebrushtail: Harry will get his break in a while.
I know that song! Cool. Good choice...
HPbabe143: Yeah, I want to be a writer... unfortunatey, because I'm still fifteen, no-one would tak me seriously. That and I've had no good ideas recently. Bleh.