The order arrived unannounced at midnight and while Harry was awake to hear the commotion, it wasn't until Mad Eye Moody himself burst through his bedroom door that Harry realized the noise was more than just Dudley and his gang getting up to no good. He found himself standing immediately, too shocked to know what to say but nonetheless delighted to see a familiar wizard's face.
"Hello, Harry." He grunted, his metal eyes whirling around the room. "We're here to take you home." Harry grinned and nodded, catching his breath. "We'll leave in about twenty minutes so get packed."
"Who else is here?" Harry asked, trying to see over his shoulder into the dark hallway. He could hear people moving around downstairs but apparently Moody came to greet him unaccompanied.
"Who isn't here is a better question." Moody grumbled and walked back into the hallway. "Twenty minutes!"
Harry made surprisingly quick work of shoving everything he'd ever owned into a trunk. He gave Hedwig a treat to keep her happy and carefully stacked the hoard of letters into an old shoebox before placing it safely under his textbooks. The folded letters and charmed parchment had started to accumulate over the past two months but Harry was reluctant to throw any of them away. He still found himself rereading them on days when D was otherwise occupied and they had become somewhat precious to him.
Double checking underneath his bed for any forgotten books or clothing, he patted his pocket for his wand and hauled his luggage out of the room. Petunia and Vernon stood at the far end of the hallway, faces contorted in disgust as they looked down the stairs at the magical riff raff that had invaded their home. Harry nodded to them, as close as he would ever get to a tearful goodbye with his foster family and started dragging his case down the stairs.
Before he got two steps down, Fred and George Weasley flanked him, each grabbing an end and hauling the trunk off the ground. "Hey, Harry!" They said in unison, handing him his Owl and rushing down the stairs. Harry's grin widened and he jumped down the last few steps, Hedwig squawking in protest of the rude handling.
Moody had been exaggerating of course. Aside from the twins, Remus and Mr. Weasley were the only ones standing in the living room as Harry entered. Standing among the aggressively muggle decorations, they looked out of place in their wizarding robes, but Harry was thrilled to see the strangeness he had missed so desperately. It took two strides to cross the room, where he flung his arms around Remus in a firm hug. The professor chuckled at the overt show of affection. "How ya doing, Harry?"
"Better now! It's great to see you!" Harry grinned, pulling apart and hugging Mr. Weasley in turn. "Where's Ron?" He hadn't meant to ask but his curiosity seemed to spill out of him.
"He's at the Burrow! Don't worry, we're going there now." The familiar friendliness in his voice was comforting and Harry nodded in excitement.
"Alright, Alright. We've got to get going. You'll have plenty of time to catch up later." Moody said, forcibly turning their shoulders towards the door. Harry nodded and grinned at Remus, making quick eye contact with the other members. Fred and George carried his trunk effortlessly and Harry silently wondered again why they were here instead of Ron.
The trip happened quickly. Once they were assembled on the lawn, Moody took his arm and the group apparated in an instant. Harry's gut lurched as the air around him twisted, spitting him out onto the lawn of the burrow. He tried his best not to heave as he stumbled out of Moody's grip. Remus caught him before he was able to hit the ground and patted his back soothingly. "Whoa there. You alright?" He gave Harry a moment to let the spinning lessen in his head. Harry grunted and straightened, still holding onto Remus' arm.
"Thanks." He breathed. Apparating was unlike any other kind of magic that Harry had encountered and he made the decision right there and then that he would stick to flying.
The door to the burrow burst open and Hermione ran out, her hair flying wildly around her as she practically tackled him into a hug. "Harry!" She gasped, squeezing his shoulders to an almost painful degree. Harry wheezed something of a greeting in response. "Harry, how are you?!" She pulled away, examining his face for signs of harm, frowning as she noticed his long hair. "You look terrible." She stated bluntly.
Harry laughed. "It's good to see you too, Hermione." He looked over her shoulder, towards the burrow that was now lighting up as people inside started to notice the new arrivals. "Where's Ron?" He asked for a second time. This seemed to jolt her out of her examination of the ragged state of his hair and she followed his gaze to the door.
"He was sleeping but he should be out soon. Oh, Harry, it's been such a long Summer without you!" She crushed him in yet another hug.
"What happened exactly? Did you guys not get any of my letters?" The question had been haunting Harry for weeks, the silence from his friends becoming as constant a companion as his own dread. Guilt flashed across Hermione's face and Harry swallowed. He hadn't prepared a reaction for this conversation. An hour ago, he didn't know he was going to be having it so soon. "How many did you get?" He tried his best to sound unaffected, as if asking if they'd gotten their newspaper delivered.
"Well, you have to understand. Dumbledore said, well he said-" She started, nervously pulling her bushy hair over her shoulder. Harry cut her off.
"Did you read any of my letters?" She looked at him regretfully and nodded. "All of them?" She nodded again and Harry found himself mimicking the action, letting the information sink in.
"Dumbledore gave us strict instructions to not reply. He said you'd be safer if we left you alone. We didn't have any choice, Harry." Her words spilled out quickly as if trying to justify it more to herself than to him. "God, Harry, we wanted to reply." It felt like a conversation she'd already had a hundred times in the mirror
"It's okay." He said, smiling gently. And it was, he supposed. It had been what he'd expected after all. The admission of guilt did no more damage than the last few months of isolation had. His soul felt numb however and he knew it would be something he thought about as he fell asleep.
If it showed on his face, Hermione didn't notice, seeming to melt with relief, and chatting happily about how excited she was to show him around the burrow. She explained that she'd been staying with the Weasley's for a while now and that she'd really made some improvements to the magic. Harry nodded, his smile turning plasticine as he listened. They'd all been here, together. He couldn't seem to kick the image of his friends sitting around a table without him, discussing his desperate attempts to beg for their help. He tried to shove the acute feeling of embarrassment down but he found that along with the dread and the numbness, there was nowhere left to shove it to. He was becoming entirely too overwhelmed.
Ron finally appeared as they ducked into the brightly lit kitchen. His hair was freshly cut and he looked more confident than he had at the end of last semester. He wore a tank top and Harry immediately knew he'd been working out from the subtle definition on his usually scraggly arms. Harry grinned at him, and they hugged briefly. "Hey, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, grinning even brighter than Hermione had.
Harry grabbed his friend's bicep and squeezed teasingly. "I see what you've been up to lately, Mate!" Ron's eyes flashed to Hermione for such a brief moment that Harry thought he might have imagined it. Ron nodded, obviously thrilled that Harry had noticed the change, turning his torso to the side for a better viewing angle as he flexed.
"Don't encourage him!" Fred called, as he and his twin entered the kitchen, trunk in tow. "Here's your stuff, Harry. You'll have to get it upstairs yourself, though."
"Yeah, we didn't sign up to be butlers after all." George added in his signature sarcastic tone. Harry grinned and conceded, taking the handle from them.
"Oh stop it, you two," Hermione scolded, narrowing her eyes at the twins before turning her attention back to her friends. "Where do you want to start? Have you eaten? Can we give you a tour?" Thinking about the options, he felt a weight drag down on his shoulders. He looked at the clock, which read almost 1 am. He frowned, thoughtfully.
"Actually, would it be okay if I just went to bed?" Hermione's face fell at the words and Harry hurried to appease her, not wanting to come off as a jerk. "I'd love a tour in the morning! I just haven't slept yet and I'm about to pass out where I'm standing." He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable at all the attention that was on him. Ron shrugged in agreement and they started the arduous task of hauling Harry's things up the narrow stairs of the Burrow. His room was almost at the very top and Hermione happily informed him that she was just down the hall if he needed anything.
"Sorry for all the potions posters. This used to be Percy's room, the bloody git." Ron informed with a mocking sneer, shoving the slightly warped door open.
"Thanks guys." Harry smiled, taking Hedwig from Hermione and bidding them goodnight. Ron disappeared down the hall but Hermione lingered a moment longer, catching Harry's eye.
"We really did want to reply." She said in an apologetic whisper.
Harry tipped his head in understanding, "I know. It's okay. It's not your fault after all."
She pulled him into one last hug, "I'm really glad you're here." Harry squeezed her comfortingly.
"Me too." and with that Hermione pulled away and followed Ron down the hall, waving goodnight. Harry waved back, the smile falling from his face as he closed the door behind him.
He didn't bother to turn on the light, opting to just use his wand to guide him to the bed. He sat quietly for a moment, letting the silence permeate his very being. He had expected the reunion to feel different. He had looked forward to it for months after all.
He suddenly got up, shifting his trunk onto its side and tossing the lid open. He rummaged for a moment, and found what he was looking for in its place under his textbooks. He opened the shoebox and felt some of the weight lift off his shoulders as he pulled out todays charmed parchment. D sent a fresh one most mornings and usually their conversations would fill up both sides before they went to sleep. The parchment felt familiar to the touch and he rummaged a moment more, until his fingers closed around a small black pen.
D had left a note for him, however Harry wasn't sure exactly how long the words had been waiting there. Hey, are you up? They had been chatting earlier, D having had to excuse himself about two hours before Moody had arrived. Harry wrote his reply quickly, desperately hoping his friend was still conscious.
Yeah I am. Are you awake? I'm at Ron's house and I really want to talk to you right now. He stared at the words as they sunk into the paper, a tear he hadn't known was coming falling onto the page. He sniffled and rubbed his eyes, the tears threatening to overtake him. Why did he feel like this? He was finally with his friends. Finally away from that solitary bedroom. He should be happy and yet all he wanted to do was talk to D and tell him how fucked up he felt. The paper seemed to mock him with the untouched cream surface violently staring back at him, blank.
He gave up on a reply after about thirty minutes. D had most likely fallen asleep waiting for him. Harry pushed the paper under his pillow, and layed down. He extinguished the light from his wand and shut his eyes, feeling more lonely than he ever had at the Dursleys.
Harry pretended to read as he sat on the couch, waiting for a reply. The burrow was cozy and warm and while the small space might have felt cramped to some, it was an inviting alternative to hiding himself away in Percy's room upstairs. Hermione was sitting at the dining table pouring over a textbook for a class that she had probably never taken and Ron sat next to her fiddling with a wizard's chess set absentmindedly. He'd invited Harry to play a match, but he'd declined in favor of the couch. It had been about a week since he'd joined his friends here but he still found it distinctly difficult to interact casually. He had made himself a promise that he wouldn't push them away but as he looked up, catching Hermione staring at him, he felt the familiar sensation of being out of place.
"What are you reading, Harry?" She asked, stretching her neck to get a better look at the cover. Harry's brain buffered for a moment, forgetting entirely that he'd pick up the book to give himself an excuse not to talk. He feebly checked the cover and shrugged.
"Eastern European Dragons and How to Find Them?" He read off the title in his most interested sounding voice. He'd only picked up the book in the first place because it was large enough to conceal the parchment he was writing on.
"Oh that's one that Charlie sent us for Christmas." Ron said, looking up at him with a raised brow. "Bit dry, isn't it? Things like reading an encyclopedia." They were both looking at him strangely now.
"Nah, it's pretty interesting actually." Harry laughed nervously. "You know me and my dragons…" He pretended to flip the page, shifting in his seat to give off the impression that he was trying to focus. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other and shrugged, going back to their separate activities.
With their attention off him, he flipped the page back, uncovering the crisp parchment that was placed there. He wasn't sure why he hadn't told his friends about his penpal yet but keeping it a secret somehow felt important. Like their conversations were just for each other and no one else.
I can't believe you haven't read any wizard novels, you absolute gargoyle. D's message had appeared during Harry's brief distraction and he muffled a short laugh. They had gotten back on the topic of favorite books when Harry had told D what he was currently doing. Making sure his friends were more occupied with other things, he started to write back.
I'll be sure to send your complaints to my uptight muggle family. What exactly did you expect?
Just feels like a crime to be so uncultured. Good excuses or not.
Well, reader boy, do you have any recommendations? I don't think I would even know where to start. And D sure did have recommendations. Listing several series and standalone novels that were 'unmissable' before settling on the one true starting place.
You HAVE to read Benedict Batts and the Rising Tide. Definitely my all time favorite.
Haha alright, I'm sold. Let me see if the Weasley's have a copy. Harry closed the Dragon textbook over the parchment and hefted himself out of the soft cushions. His friends glanced up at him curiously as he walked over to the overflowing bookshelf. "Hey Ron, do you have a book called Benedict Batts?"
"Uhhh, I've never heard of it so probably not… Do you need it for something?" Ron said, twirling a rook between his fingers.
Harry finished scanning the shelves and concurred with his friend. "Nah, not really. Just curious and figured I'd ask."
"We're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Maybe you can find a copy there?" Hermione added, always quick to encourage even the slightest interest either of the boys showed in reading. Harry cocked his head to the side, the information new to him.
"Wait really? Since when?" They hadn't left the burrow since he'd arrived and Harry worried momentarily that they hadn't told him about the trip because he wouldn't be allowed to join.
"Ginny just told me last night. Class supply lists came in the mail and we're going to pick things up." Hermione seemed confused at his confusion and Harry dropped it, plopping back into his spot on the couch.
No luck. Harry wrote once the book was back open in his lap. Doesn't look like they have it. Ron hasn't even heard of it. You sure it's a cultural staple I'm missing out on?
Well that explains a lot about the Weasleys as a family actually.
What do you mean?
Just as bad as the Dursleys if they haven't got Batts.
Well THAT'S definitely not true. The Weasleys are the best.
Highly debatable.
They're nice and they treat me like a son. I honestly would have them adopt me if I could.
If they're so nice to you, why are you talking to me instead of them?
Harry paused and looked up, silently watching as Hermione laughed at something in her book, Ron leaning over to see. He chuckled and looked at her, saying something in retort. They were talking quietly and Harry couldn't seem to make out their words. Why wasn't he sitting at the table with them? There was an open seat that he could be occupying, joined in friendly conversation with his two best and oldest friends. He would die for those two and yet, he couldn't bring himself to sit next to them. He struggled to find answers, looking back at the written message in his lap.
Everyday for the last week, any effort he'd put into being present with his friends was negatable compared to the effort and time he spent messaging D. When he wasn't actively writing to him, he was thinking about things to say or jokes he could make next time he got the paper out. He was still practicing origami to impress him and tried to imagine his face any time he saw a picture of blonde hair. At some point, without him noticing, D had started to consume his thoughts. Maybe it had begun a while ago, but now with other people around to distract him, the focus he spent on D was stark and obvious.
He'd initially started messaging D to curb the loneliness he'd felt over the Summer but now that the isolation was over, why was he still turning to his penpal before his actual friends? Had the isolation screwed with his head that much? But he couldn't seem to reconcile with the distance the months of separation had put between him and the rest of the world. It felt as if he was still stuck on that island, and D was the only one who had wanted to visit him there. Maybe he should be focusing on the people around him more than he was. But the thought of putting the parchment away forever made his chest ache.
Are you talking to them now just to spite me for saying that? The message appeared just below his last and Harry smiled. Don't make me get all possessive on your ass.
Harry couldn't help but wonder how much energy D put into thinking of him. Was Harry just a pass time or had the strange summer done equal damage to both of their psyches. What exactly did that damage mean? Harry wasn't quite sure but the strange ache in his chest only seemed to grow as he considered it.
I'd like to see that. Harry responded after a moment. You'll have to duel Ron for my attention when school starts next month.
Absolutely. Any excuse to blast a Weasley with hexes, but you gotta make it worth my time, Potter.
What would be worth it to you?
I beat Ron and I get all of it.
All of what exactly?
Your attention.
Harry stifled a laugh as he considered the irony in the demand. D already had all of his attention, whether Harry liked it or not. His heartbeat gave a cruel flutter as he traced the words with his fingertip. He felt strange today. Like he couldn't control his thoughts as he considered exactly with what kind of attention D was demanding. The image of hands running through blonde hair and lips trailing skin soon became the only thing he could see.
Harry slammed the book shut and stood up, unsure of exactly where he was going. He made excuses to Hermione and Ron and left the burrow, opting to take a walk around the field. Harry was straight. He was 95% sure of that. The only person he'd ever wanted to kiss had been Cho last year and he had! He kissed girls! He was a girl kisser! And he'd liked it, hadn't he? It hadn't worked out between them but that wasn't because she was a girl. He walked faster, his breathing hitching as he tried to remember what it had been like to kiss her, his imagination unable to help itself from replacing her with a fair haired boy who loved origami.
Harry sat down at the edge of the yard and curled his arms around his head. What was happening to him? He didn't even know what D looked like really. The thought of kissing a strange boy he barely knew should be appalling to him. And yet, he couldn't help but notice that more than anything else, he wanted to go back inside and reply.
Harry walked five feet behind his friends as they made their way out of the Leaky Cauldron and into the familiar street. Everywhere he looked, signs of the wizarding world were on full display. A broom had been charmed to sweep in front of a little cafe and pixies hung above the pet shop in tiny cages. Harry breathed in the magic as if it was floating freely in the open air. It was a relief to be surrounded again like this, a reminder that this was where he truly belonged.
He looked back up at Ron and Hermione and realized he was trailing further and further behind. He considered running to catch up with the group but decided not to in the end. Instead he just watched, noticing the way Hermione leaned towards Ron as she laughed and their hands brushed each other, neither flinching away at the contact. They had been acting strangely for the past week and Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to bring it up. He was almost certain they had hooked up or something. Harry didn't necessarily care if his friends were seeing each other. That wasn't a big deal, and Harry was more surprised that it hadn't happened sooner. What was bothering him was that they weren't talking to him about it. Why exactly were they trying to hide it?
Harry stopped at the little pet store and put a finger up to pet a pygmy owl in the outside display case. The bird chirped happily at his attention and looked expectantly at him for a treat. Harry chuckled and moved on to the next bird, a silky black mountain owl. Hedwig would murder him if he brought her home a sibling but Harry loved seeing the different kinds they always had. Owls were such beautiful little creatures.
He greeted the shop owner as he left and found that his friends were nowhere in sight. He felt a stab of panic for a moment before remembering that he was in fact almost an adult and he could indeed be left unsupervised at the market. Feeling a bit foolish, he wandered aimlessly through the streets. Mrs. Weasley had given herself the task of going to Gringotts to withdraw money for everyone's supplies and until she returned, Harry only had a few galleons clinking in his pocket. Not nearly enough to get started school shopping. So he wandered, trying some wizard baked goods that were being sampled outside the bakery and watching the newspaper replay an epic moment from the most recent international quidditch match. It was just a huge relief to be surrounded by this feeling again and Harry was in no rush to go back to the Burrow quickly.
Tired, he stared at the bustling crowd around him, watching wizards of all ages hurry to complete their errands. He'd been up all night last night thinking of his penpal of course. He'd given excuses as to why he couldn't chat but sleep hadn't found him until early morning as he replayed their conversations and tried to pinpoint exactly when he'd started to feel the way he was. Surely the feelings were simply a result of becoming codependent on the only person he'd had access to over the Summer. It could happen to anyone and definitely wouldn't last as he was around more people. In the end, the only way he'd found any sleep was to let himself believe that, unsure of what the other options meant for them.
He found himself leaned against a shop wall, eyes surveying. Tentatively, he found a boy in the crowd roughly his age, brown hair, and objectively attractive. Harry tried to imagine kissing him and was met with slight discomfort at the idea. He found a girl and did the same. Surprisingly, the idea of kissing a strange girl gave the exact same amount of discomfort that kissing a strange boy did. He scowled, trying his experiment with a few more strangers before giving up. Apparently, he just didn't like the idea of kissing people he didn't know. Drat.
His eyes landed on a small wizarding bookshop and he stalled, thinking about the conversation he'd had with D. He'd truthfully been avoiding his friend since yesterday but he was still curious about the book he'd recommended. He knew he wouldn't avoid him forever, and he didn't know the next time he would be near a book shop, so he gave a resigned sigh and headed towards it.
The door jingled as he pushed it open and a calming scent of lavender wafted past him. The store was organized in that it was incredibly unorganized, large bookshelves pushed into aisles that seemed to maze around the center of the room. Books were stacked on the floor and even more were suspended in the air just high enough that a tall wizard wouldn't bump their head. Harry had never come in here before, but after taking three steps in he knew it was the sort of place that Hermione thrived in. He meandered between two shelves and started browsing the titles along the spines, most of which Harry had never heard of before. The daunting task of finding what he was looking for among the disorganized clutter suddenly became very real and he set his sights on finding the bookkeeper. He would probably be here all day if he didn't ask for help.
A glint of white caught the sunlight in front of him and no sooner than Harry had turned to move, he found himself face to face with an all-too-familiar Draco Malfoy. Harry jumped, taking an instinctual step back.
"Malfoy." He greeted, somewhat coldly. Draco's face flinched in what Harry assumed was annoyance.
"Potter. What brings you in here?" his voice was softer than Harry remembered it, as if it had lost a bit of its bite since they'd last spoken. Harry noted the dark circles under his eyes and the ashy color of his skin but successfully fought the urge to ask if he was okay.
"Just looking for a book. I assume you're doing the same?"
Draco nodded, lifting a book shaped brown parcel in his hands. "Already found mine." The two boys were silent, having quickly run out of things to say to each other. Harry coughed awkwardly, and Draco seemed to snap back to his body. "Well, see you at Hogwarts I suppose." His blond hair fell into his face as he nodded and Harry couldn't help but think that he was remarkably beautiful.
"Yeah, alright then." Harry conceded, matching the softness in his own voice. Draco brushed past him quickly and the ding of the door sounded, indicating that he had left. Harry stood a little flabbergasted by the interaction. There had been no insults or sarcasm and Harry couldn't remember a single other instance that had been quite that civil with the spoiled Malfoy heir. How strange.
Harry stretched his shoulders and kept moving, trying not to dwell on his rival's odd behavior. He'd made a point years ago to never let the twat's actions affect him. He quickly found the bookkeeper sitting at a raised desk, hoards of books piled behind him. The short man was engrossed in a novel and didn't look up as Harry approached. "Hello, sir." Harry started somewhat timidly.
"What do you need, boy?" The man snapped the book shut and leaned over the desk to look at Harry with a judgemental air.
"Do you have any copies of Benedict Batts and the Rising Tide?" Harry asked shifting on his feet, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.
"Twice in one day, that's odd." the man grumbled to himself, hopping down from his chair. He disappeared quickly into the stacks and Harry could hear him grumbling more as books were hefted off of shelves and replaced. Eventually, the man stuck his head around the corner and scowled. "Looks like I sold my last copy just today. Should have come an hour ago." Harry nodded and gave him an awkward smile, apologizing for wasting his time. "If you need any other books to read I'm happy to oblige."
"Ah, no, thank you! I was just checking for it, it's no big deal though." Harry said his goodbye quickly and exited the bookshop. How unlucky, he thought as he recalled what the man had said. At least he would have a good excuse for D on why he couldn't read it yet.
"Harry!" Hermione's voice cut through the air and he looked up, scanning the crowd for his friends. "Over here!" He found them sitting at a little diner table on the street and he quickly jogged over. Ron looked as if someone had spit in his tea and Hermione had the presence of someone who had been happy to do it. Harry glanced between them questioningly. "Oh, don't mind him. I just told him that a new broom is not a necessity for studying for his NEWTs and he's being a baby about it."
Ron opened his mouth, apparently more than ready to continue the argument. Harry laughed as Hermione silenced him with stare. He pulled up a chair from the neighboring table and sat down, as Hermione began discussing the plans for the rest of the day. Apparently Mrs. Weasley would meet them here after lunch and they would go to collect their things all together as a group. They ordered their food and Harry paid after realizing he had just enough to cover the bill for all of them.
Thirty minutes later, Ginny appeared followed shortly behind by her plump mother, carrying small bags of money for each of them. She returned their Gringotts keys and huffed, noticing their half empty plates. "C'mon! We haven't got all day!" The trio made quick work of the rest of their meal and trailed behind Mrs. Weasley. Without intentionally meaning to, Harry once again found himself several steps behind his friends, lost in thought. He knew it was somewhat self destructive, but he couldn't help but notice that his friends didn't make any effort to include him when he fell behind. Perhaps that was yet another side effect of his friends' new relationship but Harry could see the scab forming over the hole he had left in their trio. He vaguely wondered what D was doing right now.
Tentatively, as if approaching a sacred subject in his mind, one that he had been afraid to broach before, Harry tried to imagine what it would be like for D to be here, as more than just his friend. He imagined Hermione and Ron holding hands and Harry taking D's in his own. His eyes glazed over as he imagined getting lunch together. Now that he was more familiar with him, he knew that D would get along much better with Hermione than Ron. D was quite clever after all. As they entered the familiar bookstore that held the textbooks they purchased each year, Harry let his mind wander further into dangerous territory, picturing himself sneaking away with D and kissing him in the privacy of the stacks. His face flushed and he felt hot and acutely uncomfortable in a different way than before. The idea appealed to him more than he had anticipated and Harry jogged to catch up with his friends, leaving the images of secret kisses and timid smiles behind.
"Ugh, that bloody git is here." He heard Ron say under his breath as Harry joined them. Looking around, it didn't take long to find the subject of his malice. About twenty feet away, standing alone in his pressed black robes, Draco stood, ignoring the crowd moving around him as he waited in line to pay for his books. "I swear we run into him every year. It's like he's doing it on purpose to ruin my day." Ron sneered.
"He looks kind of ill." Hermione noted blankly, as if taking stock of a potion ingredient's merit.
"Bet his family's been taken down a notch with the death eaters since his father got arrested." Ron guessed with a gleefully self-righteous smile. Harry didn't say anything, remembering the soft voice he had used in the other shop. Maybe Hermione was right and he was sick. It didn't feel right to make fun of him after they had just had their first civil encounter though.
Draco looked up, finally noticing the three of them. Harry could have sworn that his eyes widened, but as quick as the change in expression had come, it left, leaving Draco back to his usual bored self. He nodded to the trio curtly and turned away, slightly stiffer in the shoulders than he had been before. Harry was too distracted to care though, wondering if D's blond hair was a dirty blonde or almost white like Draco's. Maybe he would ask later.
By the time they had returned to the Burrow, Harry was a wreck. He'd watched his friends chat with a blank smile, feeling slightly out of body as he'd followed behind them. He'd made polite conversation with Ginny but that made him feel even less like himself. His mind kept returning to the parchment laying in his trunk upstairs and as much as he pushed it away and tried to focus on his surroundings, the harder it became to ignore. Now that he had let the thoughts of kissing his friend into his head, Harry couldn't stop and as he tried to act normally around his friends, he could feel the panic rising.
He wasn't sure what was worse, the uncertainty of his own sexuality or the nagging feeling to talk to D about it. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he had gone through something similar with his own sexuality. But to have that conversation was to admit that he had feelings for him and Harry wasn't quite ready to confess such an intimate thing. If D didn't feel the same… their friendship would most certainly be over.
Harry nodded blankly as Hermione said something to him. He had tuned out of their conversation several minutes ago and hadn't tuned back in time to catch what she had wanted. He froze and stared at her, his smile still in its designated place. "Sorry, what?"
"Are you alright?" She asked, a concerned look falling over her face. Harry nodded quickly, hoisting his bag of textbooks to his other arm.
"Yeah! Today was just a bit tiring." She looked as though he had just told her she had nifflers in her hair and expected her to believe it. They held each other's gaze for a tense second before she conceded and turned to Ron, asking about something they'd left outside. Happy to be free from his friend's intrusive questioning, Harry made his way towards the stairs. He hadn't been entirely lying. The day had drained him significantly more than he cared to admit but he wasn't sure how much of that had come from the shopping and how much from his own internal hellscape of emotions.
Ron and Hermione caught him before he was able to escape to his room though. "Hey, tell us what's going on." He demanded, hand tight around Harry's wrist as if to ensure he wouldn't bolt.
"I'm fine."
"Harry- Cmon, we can talk in my room." Hermione insisted, glancing down the stairs at the busy kitchen. Trapped, harry had no choice but to concede and follow his friends. Once the door was shut, Hermione cast a quick silencing charm and both of their eyes turned to Harry, who stood awkwardly near the door.
"What?" He asked.
"Tell us what's happening with you, mate." Ron crossed his arms, apparently ready to be the bad cop in this situation.
"Nothing's happening with me!" He bit back with exasperation, pushing his shaggy hair away from his eyes. Their stares were unflinching at the lie.
Hermione stepped towards him. "Harry, we've noticed you acting strange lately…"
"Yeah, you've been avoiding us like the fucking plague. What's that about?"
"Guys, it's nothi-" Harry tried to say, ignoring Ron's sharp tone.
"What Ron means to say is that we're worried about you."
"Well, maybe it's two months too late to be 'worried about me.'" Harry snapped, mimicking Hermione's sickly sweet voice that she put on when she was trying to be sincere. This had apparently been the wrong move as Ron was now the one to step towards him.
"What's your problem?!" His voice was rising.
Harry squared his shoulders. "I don't have a problem, so kindly shove off!"
"Harry-" Hermione started, placing a gentle hand on Ron's elbow.
"No! Just shut up! Both of you!" Harry had lost his patience at the sight of his two closest friends taking sides against him. "You guys left me to rot! What do you want me to say?!"
They stared at him, mouths slightly open. " Harry, we couldn't-"
"BULLSHIT." He shouted, taking a step backwards to the door. "We've broken more rules than I can count and you're telling me that sending me ONE FUCKING LETTER was where you draw the line?!"
"Don't talk to her that way. " Ron had stepped in front of Hermione protectively and Harry was done.
"Whatever! Just leave me alone since you guys are so good at that." He snapped the door open and left.
When he got to his room, he collapsed down on the bed and exhaled like he'd been holding his breath all day. He hadn't meant to shout but he couldn't say he regretted anything he said. They'd read his letters, they knew the kind of Hell they had left him in. But he shouldn't have yelled, especially at Hermione.
The sun was setting quickly and Harry thought with a great amount of dread, that they would be eating dinner soon. The idea of sitting at the dining table surrounded by people he cared about made him want to vomit. The realization that that was the case was even more disturbing. He curled into himself and tried to clear his head.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed before Ron came to let him know dinner was ready. The sun was fully set now and his room was dark but he hadn't fallen asleep. He hadn't moved but he definitely hadn't slept. Harry didn't respond and Ron seemed to expect that answer, biting out a short "whatever." before slamming the door behind him. Harry waited for his footsteps to disappear before he closed his eyes once again.
Another knock sounded at the door and Harry shot awake. His room was pitch black now, with no hint of the day that had come and gone. He checked the clock on the desk and groaned, realizing it was half past eleven at night. He might have gotten a full nights sleep if whoever was at his door had left him the fuck alone.
"What?" He asked, sitting up and running his hand through his hair. The door creaked open and a bushy head of brown curls peaked inside. Hermione. "What do you want?" He asked, too exhausted to be polite.
Hermione pursed her lips and stepped inside. Her posture was determined and she pulled the desk chair out and took a seat. "Harry, we need to talk." She folded her arms but Harry could tell she wasn't mad.
"I think we both saw how well talking turned out." Harry laughed bitterly.
Hermione frowned. "Ron's not here. It's just us and I want to talk to you." Harry shrugged and she continued. "Dumbledore made our parents and Ron and I promise and we couldn't sneak an owl away. There was no way to send anything. We would have if we could."
"Sirius died, Hermione." Harry said bluntly. "He died right in front of me." She apparently didn't have a response to that so Harry kept talking, unsure of what point he was trying to make yet. "And then I was trapped with the Dursley's and the only thing I could think of was how close I was to having a family, a real family and now he's dead. And I didn't have anyone to talk to about it." His voice had gone soft and quiet now. "You don't know what that's like. I was going insane, 'Mione." He let out a shaky breath, not looking at her. "And I expect this kind of thing from Dumbledore, but you and Ron… You should have fought for me."
Hermione was crying, veiled by the darkness but he could hear her sniffling from her chair.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Harry rubbed his eyes, frustrated with everything but mostly himself. "I shouldn't have shouted at you and Ron earlier, either."
Hermione came to sit next to him on the bed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sniffing back tears. "I'm sorry too. We really did try but we could have done more. Just with everything going on, I've been so scared." Harry reached up and touched her arm. "Following Dumbledore seemed like the only option to keep everyone safe… We thought you were safe." Her voice cracked and she shuddered another round of tears.
"Technically, I was safe I guess…. I just needed you guys."
Hermione shook harder and Harry was barely able to make out a weak "I'm sorry." as she cried into his shoulder. Harry patted her arm, hoping she would stop crying soon. He wasn't sure how to handle this kind of emotion. He'd gotten so used to hiding any weakness in front of the Dursley's that even at moments like this, where he felt like crying, he couldn't. Not when there were others around.
"It wasn't all bad though." He tried, hoping to comfort his friend. "I did have someone to talk to for a while."
Hermione looked up, confused. "What? Who?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity. "I actually don't know." Hermione's confusion seemed to deepen. "It was an accident at first but we kept chatting. So I wasn't totally alone."
"I wish that was a relief." Hermione sighed, hugging him tighter. "How do you accidentally talk to someone?"
"It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you later."
"I really am sorry, Harry." She said after a moment. "Please don't hate us for it."
Harry hugged her back, pressing his cheek against her hair. "I could never hate you guys. I wish it had been different but I know you did what you could." They sat in silence for a moment, just holding each other when Harry spoke again. "I've just had a lot on my mind lately.
Hermione pulled away and set forward, putting her head in her hands. "Will you tell me about it?"
Harry genuinely considered the offer. Hermione had always been the most emotionally mature of the three and as he thought of his oldest and wisest friend, he wondered when he'd stopped sharing things with her. "Have you ever had feelings for someone but know you shouldn't?"
"I had a crush on Ron for a long time, Harry. I definitely know the feeling." She chuckled at the memories of the Yule ball.
"What do I do?" He was a bit ashamed with how weak his voice came out.
"Well, why do you think you shouldn't? Are they a bad person for you?" Harry shook his head without hesitation. "Is it because of who they are?" Harry paused and then nodded slowly. "I don't think that's a reason not to love someone, Harry."
"Well…" Harry thought for a moment before pushing through the doubts he had. Their friendship was important to him and he would never leave his lonely little island if he didn't let people find him. "I'm less worried about who they are than how people might treat me differently." Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion, but let him continue. "And I'm afraid he doesn't feel the same way." The word hung suspended in the air between them: he. Hermione leaned towards him, gingerly wrapping her arms around his shoulders once again. The hug felt different this time and Harry let it ease some of his stress.
"Oh Harry. Nothing could change how we see you. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like it would."
"I just… I don't know what to do." Harry sighed, "Do you mind if I tell you that long story now?" She nodded.
And so he told her everything. He told her about how his letter was misplaced and how their conversations had started. He told her about how funny he could be and how badly Harry wanted to know who he was. He told her about the origami and how everything he touched was beautiful. He told her how lonely he'd been and how those letters were the only thing keeping his sane and how often D had been there for him. He told her how he felt about him and explained his worries that he might just be feeling this way because he had been desperate for contact. He confessed to how out of place he had been feeling and how he didn't know how to fix any of it. He finished by admitting how terrified Harry was to lose him. Hermione listened intently until Harry had said Everything he had to and wiped her eyes.
"I'm so sorry we left you alone like that, Harry. I'm sorry we weren't there for you." Her voice was shaky with tears once again.
"It's O-"
"Don't you dare say 'it's okay to me, Harry Potter! We're your best friends and we made you feel like you didn't belong with us." Tears were rolling freely down her cheeks now as she spoke quickly. "But mostly I'm grateful, I'm glad you had someone. And as upset as I am that it wasn't us, I want to hug whoever he is for taking care of you while we couldn't." Her shoulders shook as she hugged him again. "I don't know what you should do, Harry. But if you decide to tell him or not, and if he stays or leaves, I'm gonna be here for you. You're not going to be alone again, okay?"
Harry nodded into her bushy hair and they pulled apart. Harry rubbed his arms, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Please don't tell Ron. Not yet at least."
Hermione smiled and nodded sheepishly. "Can I tell you a secret now?" She looked down at her fingers, "It's a bit embarrassing and we were waiting for the right time but now's as good a time as any I suppose."
"You and Ron are dating?" Harry asked, smiling. "You guys are shit at keeping secrets."
The next day Hermione and Ron didn't leave his side. She had kept her promise and left the details of his situations out but Ron seemed to have picked up the general idea. He'd made his apologies over breakfast, telling Harry that if there was anything he could do to make up for the Summer, he would. Harry was grateful and let things resume as they normally would. And so his friends made extra efforts to be around him and include him wherever they possibly could. Harry normally would have found the overt attention patronizing but the ernesty with which Hermione approached him, asking if he wanted to join them for a show, made his heart thaw. It was impossible to say no to her.
The TV had apparently been one of Hermione's many 'improvements' that she'd made to the Burrow over the Summer. Ron insisted that they'd already had a TV but Hermione informed Harry that the TV in question was one Mr Weasley stole from a thrift store garbage and hadn't been even remotely functional since the 80s. Harry had to agree with Hermione and Ron made his point by grumbling to himself about being teamed up on.
Now that their relationship was common knowledge, Harry's friends no longer bothered keeping the PDA subtle. Harry almost wished that he'd never said anything as he watched Ron twirl Hermione around affectionately while Harry tried to eat his lunch. But in all honesty, the truth being out was a huge relief. There weren't any secrets left and Harry finally started to feel like they were the same group that had gone after the Philosopher's stone in the first year. The only thing left to do was to tell Ron what he had told Hermione about his feelings, but he wanted to wait for that. Not because he didn't trust Ron, but because he wasn't sure what he would do yet.
He'd been talking to D like usual today, with Hermione covering for him whenever he went to read or reply to his messages. D had seemed a little confused by Harry's strange behavior over the last few days but after a few apologies, their light hearted banter resumed as if nothing had happened. Nonetheless, Harry felt disingenuous as he joked about not being able to find a copy of D's favorite book. Their conversations seemed normal on the surface but a massive shadow loomed behind Harry as he penned his responses. Harry felt like his thoughts of intimacy with his friend had violated some unspoken code. Every word he wrote, he checked that he wasn't giving himself away, and every joke D made, Harry over-analyzed, trying to decipher whether maybe he hadn't been alone in overstepping their relationship.
As the week crawled by, Harry started to wonder more and more about how real their relationship even was. Watching movies with his friends, laughing with them, sharing stories, he knew that was real. And as he let his friends pull him from the dust that he'd grown accustomed to, he wondered if his infatuation with D really was just a product of having no other sources of contact. It was an uncomfortable thought but one that he felt he needed to grapple with before he made a decision on how to move forward.
With his birthday approaching, he let himself leave the parchment in his room more and more often. He was actively present with his friends and over time found himself less desperate to message D anytime he felt uncomfortable. After such a long Summer, Harry could finally say that he was starting to feel like himself again. And yet, the ache in his chest that had been accompanying him for weeks only seemed to grow.
So on the morning of his birthday when a barn owl tapped at his window with a delicately wrapped present from D, Harry allowed his heart to flutter. He tentatively let himself smile with affection at the familiar handwriting addressing the package. And as he unwrapped a pristine copy of Benedict Batts, Harry let himself imagine a world where he might tell D how he felt. It was nice, he admitted to himself, admiring the beautiful book. He took the note that had come with it and read.
Happy Birthday Harry! This isn't actually a present but more of a homework assignment because you HAVE to read it:) No but seriously, I hope you have the best birthday. I've known you for years but somehow feel like I've only just met you. You're the only thing that's gotten me through this Summer and I'm really grateful I've gotten to be your friend.
Harry smiled, his heart filling with the odd feeling. How could this not be real? It felt just as tangible as the warmth of his friends or the adrenaline rush that flying gave him. D made him feel so much that to call any of it forfeit felt like an active lie to distract himself.
Harry was in love with him.
He stared at the letter in his hands, finally letting the word pass over his mind. He didn't flinch away or second guess it. He accepted it for what it was: an inevitability.
For the rest of the day, any notes he passed felt unstable as he sat in the realization of how he felt. D had never given him a reason to distrust him and Harry knew that, but putting his heart out in the open felt raw and vulnerable and even the delicate swoops of his love's writing couldn't quell the slight feeling of anxiety. Now that he'd realized what the feeling really was, keeping it to himself was becoming more and more of an impossible task.
But as he blew out his candles that night surrounded by his closest friends, feeling more real than he had in months, he realized that he wouldn't be truly whole until D was standing among them. He wanted him here. Not because he needed someone to keep him company but because he wanted him. He drafted the letter in his mind as he opened gifts and laughed with his friends and as he thanked them, hugging them goodnight, his anxiety was gone, replaced with a giddy anticipation.
He pulled out the parchment once he returned to his room, finding a message waiting for him.
Have you had a good birthday?
Yeah. Sorry I've been kinda MIA all day
No worries:) Were any of your other presents as cool and awesome as mine?
Nah. but would it be too much for me to ask you for one more thing?
Sure, anything your heart desires, Potter
And Harry hoped with his entire soul that he meant that. I really like you and I was wondering if I could kiss you when we get to Hogwarts?