A/N: House: Hufflepuff | Category: Drabble | Prompt: A couch | Word Count: 625
Harry stood in the unusually full living room of Number 4, Privet Drive for what he hoped would be the last time. He was amused, not only by the sheer number of people crammed into the space, but also by the fact that they were by far the most abnormal group of people the house had ever seen. He fought laughter as he imagined the looks on his relatives' faces if they could see their guests. Fred and George wore calculating expressions as they made their way around the room, prodding at various objects. Arthur was doing the same, although he wore an expression of utmost curiosity and awe. Bill, Fleur, Tonks, and Moody stood in a corner of the room discussing strategy while Moody casually swirled his magical eye in a glass of water. Mundungus was next to Hagrid, who was crouched down and chatting amiably, although Mundungus' shifting eyes suggested that he was not really listening. Ron and Hermione sat casually on each of the couch's arms—he gave a short laugh as he imagined the look of horror on his aunt's face—as they talked with Remus and Kingsley, who were sitting on the couch.
Harry stared at the couch and its occupants for longer than necessary. He found it both amusing and irritating that they could all sit there freely when he, who had lived there for all his life, had never been able to. The couch had been one of the many places that was off-limits to him, reserved only for those who were welcome. Even now, with no one around to scold him, he couldn't bring himself to sit on the couch. He wasn't sure if it was out of habit or spite, but he found he didn't much care what the reason was. All that he felt in that moment was a brief but sickening sense of rejection. When the moment passed, he was left with surprise; he did not expect it to still bother him. He had long ago accepted the Dursleys and his situation for what they were, so he was disconcerted to find even a piece of him that still cared—especially about the couch, of all things.
"Harry, mate, get over here!" Ron called, giving him an odd look. Harry supposed he must have looked strange standing silently by the stairs, so he mentally shook himself and joined them, though his movements were slightly stiff.
Kingsley announced that he had some logistics to discuss with Moody and heaved himself off the couch. Hermione, Ron, and Remus looked at Harry expectantly as he stood awkwardly in front of the couch, staring at the lurid and impeccably kept floral-printed upholstery. He took a cautious step towards the couch and slowly lowered to perch on the edge of the cushion. His back remained completely straight and his muscles were tensed as if ready to leap up and flee at any moment. Remus and Hermione were now looking at him concernedly, while Ron simply looked bemused. Ron looked as if he would comment on Harry's strange behavior, but Hermione spoke before he had the chance.
"So, anyways, Harry, we were discussing some interesting new defense strategies that Kingsley's been working on with the aurors…" she began, and they were soon immersed in discussion. Harry gave her a grateful smile, to which she replied with her own small smile and a discreet nod.
As they talked, Harry slowly relaxed back into the cushions, and, after a while, he forgot that he wasn't supposed to belong there. He thought perhaps he shouldn't feel quite so smug for simply sitting on a couch, but there was such a distinct sense of defiance in the act that he couldn't help but grin.