Drabble 3: Tired
Overwhelming Responsibilities
Harry couldn't sleep yet he never been this tired. His Godfather was dead, Voldemort was back, and he had to be the one to kill him. The entire future of the Wizarding World was on his shoulder and it was so heavy! It weighed him down, snapping his bones and drowning his heart in an endless loop of pain and responsibilities.
He was only 15!
As Harry lay on a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room his body shook. He never felt this overwhelmed in his life. Nothing the Dursley had ever done compared to what was happening right now.
The couch shifted with the weight of another person and warm fingers tangled themselves in Harry's hair. The boy closed his eyes to the familiar touch, letting the fingers massage his worries right out of his head for the time being. A flurry of brown curls tickled his skin as warm lips pressed against his temple.
"Go to sleep, Harry," Hermione said, her soft voice a beacon of comfort in the midst of his inner turmoil.
"I can't." Silence fell over them like a cuddly blanket, Hermione's fingers continuing their journey within his hair.
"Mione. . . I'm so tired," Harry groaned.
"I know, love. I know."
