"How are you feeling?" Ron gently asked Harry.
One question,that one question that made Harry contemplate his entire life. He questioned his existence, the purpose of life?
It made scared memories spiral in his head, twisting and turning. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He closed his eyes whispering, "I'm fine."
Closing his eyes was a mistake. Sleep enclosed him. Days he tried avoiding it but in the end he still fell asleep.
It all started with the frappuccino he brought from a cheerful lady who sold them at a odd looking café in Diagon alley.
It was the most amazing thing he tasted. He drank multiple cups he couldn't get enough of it.
Days past and life carried on but one fine evening as Harry was reading a qudditch book. An empty frappuccino cup appeared beside him out of nowhere!
Thinking nothing much about it here threw it away. That night his mind was plagued with only nightmares. Of course again he thought nothing about the cup, leaving it as a coincidence.
The following day, the same thing happened. Freaking out, Harry decided to not sleep.
Well now all his hard work was put to waste.
Falling into a black abyss, his heart felt as if it was pierced by a hundred of knives. His hands shook out of fear. Harry tried screaming, but it seemed as if his voice was taken away.
He silently begged for a companion. His loneliness he buried soo deep finally hit him hard. His silent prayers turned into sobbing.
In the end his loneliness was what killed him.