A/N - Just a quick notice, if you will. First of all, thank you to all those who review, since it's absolutely fascinating to know what you think and how you interpret what's happening. And this way, I realize if I missed anything, or if I've made a mistake in how I portray something.
Secondly, I know that a lot of you are waiting for some H/Hr action, but I can't promise when that will be. Partly because I get a new prompt a day, and I don't know what I'm writing until I write it, and partly because this is an angst/romance fic, so I don't want to just throw them together. I want it to make sense. Not to mention there are 100 chapters. Imagine how boring it would be if they got together too soon ;) And technically, all 12 of these chapters depict one day, so it's not really that slow moving.
And finally, 12 down and 88 more to go. By George, I think we're putting a dent in this thing ;P - Thanks again guys.
Chapter 12 - Alone and History (Prompts)
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It had been a while since the whole of the Burrow had been put into darkness and everyone had given into their tiredness and finally fallen asleep. And yet, Harry stayed where he was, sitting on the floor of Percy's former bedroom staring out of the window and in to the moonlit night.
It had been a while since he had felt this way; felt so alone. How he wished Hedwig was sleeping in her cage right beside him.
He was tired, hungry and his eyes could barely be kept open. But he couldn't sleep. Not yet. Everything that had happened was burned into his brain. All the blood, the violence and the curses flying past him. The look on people's faces when they saw their loved ones die; the look of the cold, expressionless faces that were to be buried soon.
He was also loathed to change. He still had countless cuts and bruises under his clothing that hadn't been healed. He knew the moment he peeled off the grime and the muck of his clothing, his skin would burn. He had no interest in hurrying the pain. He'd rather sit where he was and think. He felt he owed all those who fell at least that much.
It was while his eyes drooped tiredly, his head lolling to the side slightly that he heard a light knock on the door that startled him.
Hermione walked in cautiously, already washed and ready for bed. The moment she saw him, she looked at him in sympathy. "Oh, Harry."
Her tone wasn't something he wanted to hear at two in the morning. Holding onto the wall, he staggered to his feet. "I was just about to go to bed." He would say anything at this point for her to believe him.
"No you weren't." He could hear the underline frustration in her voice. "Why haven't you changed yet? You would feel so much better after a wash."
"I was about to. Wash I mean."
Her gaze dissected him quietly, which only succeeded in making him feel even more self-conscious.
In an effort to move the attention off of him, he gestured towards her. "What are you doing here?"
It must have been a trick of the light, but Harry could swear she blushed lightly. "I...er... I was wondering if I could sleep here tonight."
Harry's heart immediately stopped beating.
"Ginny's sleeping with everyone else in Arthur's and Molly's room, and after months of living in a tent with you and Ron...I can't seem to go to sleep without having someone with me," she said quickly, her tone embarrassed. When Harry simply stared at her, she sputtered, "Only if you're okay with it, of course. I have my sleeping bag. I was just thinking about sleeping on the floor."
"No. I mean, yeah. I mean, you can. Sleep here," Harry stammered, feeling like a right idiot. "You should take the bed."
Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry. You need it more than I do. But," she said with a little laugh, "I refuse to sleep here until you take a wash and get rid of those awful clothes."
Harry would have laughed if it weren't for the idea of the pain he would ultimately have to endure. He felt like his body couldn't take it right now. He was just too drained.
Hermione, immediately sensing his demeanour, asked softly, "Are you alright?"
Harry nodded before grabbing his bag. "I'm fine. I'll go have a wash then." With a quick duck of his head, he exited the room. Maybe that's what he needed, some warm water to wash the grime as well as anything else away.
The moment he closed the door behind him, Harry staggered, feeling suddenly weak. He needed to eat something. Leaning his back against the sink, he painstakingly began peeling off his clothing. As expected, his skin prickled with burns. He gritted his teeth to hold the grunt of pain from escaping. After a few moments, he stopped, his chest rising and falling in quick succession as he took a small breather.
The knock on the door stopped him cold.
"Harry! I forgot to take something! Could I just come in for a second?"
Panicked, Harry pulled the t-shirt back over his head, wincing when his raw skin touched the material. "Yeah. Sure." He quickly pulled opened the door, hoping to get this over with quickly. What he didn't expect was for Hermione's eyes to widen as she let out a soft gasp. Out of habit, Harry glanced at the mirror and noticed the mistake he had made.
Honestly, it's almost as if history has taught him nothing.
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