Harry woke suddenly not knowing where he was for a moment before his sleep addled mind pieced it together. Dumbledore, Slughorn, the Weasley's. The curtains were ripped open, and Harry had to shield his eyes from the burning rays. He found his glasses somewhere in his bed, probably having fallen off while he was asleep.
"We didn't know you were here already!" exclaimed a voice, too loud too early. He felt a blow come to his head before he even had time to look around.
"Ron! Don't hit him!" The familiar bossy tone of Hermione Granger. Harry finally peered around the room. His two 'best mates' were standing over his bed. Ron's grinning face slightly annoyed him. He was almost startled by the strong negative feelings, but maybe he shouldn't be. He felt abandoned, he felt alone.
"Alright?" Asked Ro. Harry frowned in response, of course he wasn't alright.
"Never better." He lied through a forced smile. Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Really?" She pried, concern lacing her tone. For a moment, looking into her brown eyes, Harry let himself forget his anger. She was his mate; they'd been through so much together. A voice in the back of his head, she wouldn't understand. A voice like pain, sorrow, and lies. It was sharp and it rang in his head till his mouth was sewn shut.
"Really." he said with forced causality, shrugging as he spoke. Hermione accepted his answer. That hurt, he'd kind of hoped she'd just know. That was idiotic though, she didn't know fucking occlumency.
"Were the Muggles alright? Did they treat you okay?" Ron jumped in.
"Same as always." Harry said with a dry chuckle. Dudley threatened to knife him, and Mr. Dursley and his wife had to be bribed to let Harry stay another year. It was what Harry was used to. The conversation died hard. It's probably Harry's fault. This awkward tension hung in the air.
Maybe Harry was supposed to ask them how they were doing or ask how things had been. He just couldn't care less.
"Don't worry about missing breakfast, mum's bringing you up a tray. She reckons you look underfed." Ron broke the silence. Harry didn't want breakfast, but he didn't say that. His stomach rumbled and he supposed it couldn't hurt.
Ginny suddenly burst through the door, she looked irritated. Her eyes were almost red like her fiery hair. When she looked at Harry, however, her gaze softened. She always gave him that look, it made him uncomfortable. It was almost like the way her mother looked at him but combined with wonder and amazement. Intertwined with all those other emotions was pity, she looked at him with pity.
Harry averted his eyes, looking onto the blanket that still covered his body. Suddenly, it was the most interesting thing in the room.
"Just so you guys know, blonde b-i-t-c-h it's serving Harry's food." Ginny announced. Harry heard Hermione sigh.
"Don't call her that!" Ron demanded, Harry stopped picking at the blanket and stared at Ron. Who the fuck were they on about?
"Oh yeah, defend her Ronald. Everyone knows you're obsessed with her." Ginny hissed back. Ron stepped up to her face and they glared at each other. That's when Fleur Delacour walked in the room. Harry couldn't lie, she was beautiful as ever. She came in as graceful as a swan. Swooping down and setting the tray on Harry's lap, she kissed his cheek and Harry reddened like a schoolgirl. He didn't really like her, he knew it was her magic, but damn it was powerful. It had been a while since he'd been turned on, he just didn't have the energy, but his pants suddenly felt tight.
"'Arry!" she greeted him happily, her French accent buttering her words sweetly. She swished her silvery hair. She was just an instinctual flirt. Like a high-class whore and intrusive thought said. She was saying something, but Harry stopped paying attention. His attention span was nonexistent these days as if it wasn't already bad enough. At some point Mrs. Weasley had entered, when had that happened? Sometimes it felt like Harry was losing it.
They were talking amongst themselves like Harry wasn't there, Harry didn't really feel there though. Something about an engagement between Bill and Fleur. Harry was happy for them, he really was, but it just felt sort of forced. Harry smiled and nodded when someone tried to rope him into the conversation.
"Harry?" Everyone was staring at him again. Hermione had the most intense of gazes, her stare had an edge to it. He blinked as he looked around the room, still there. He laughed awkwardly, trying to dismiss the attention. He hated attention.
"I'm sorry, was it mentioning Sirius?" Hermione asked kindly, the name was once again another stone to his heart. Numb this time, he was growing used to it. He hadn't even heard them talk about Sirius. Why did they have to keep saying his name? Why did they have to keep torturing him? He hated this shit.
"No, I'm alright." Harry croaked. He was going to be sick. Harry pushed the tray away as he stood up, everyone around seemed to back away from him. He felt contagious, he felt like Dragon Pox.
"I just need the toilet." he said numbly, rushing past everyone and into the hallway. He knew this house better than the Dursley's, but still he felt lost. He found the bathroom eventually; he slammed the door behind him. He dry heaved into the toilet, but nothing came up. He collapsed backwards onto the tile floor, sitting there spread out. He felt so fucking drained and he just woke up. He couldn't get off the damn floor.
There was a knock on the door. It sounded hesitant, but firm. Harry just stared at the door, hoping he locked it. Nobody could see him like this.
"Harry? I know you're occupied, but we just got our OWL results." Hermione whispered anxiously. Harry couldn't help his smile, of course she would confront him for that, classic Hermione. He managed to stand on shaky legs, and he wandered over to the bathroom door, prying it open gently.
She brightened then dimmed as she saw him. She seemed conflicted whether to mention his appearance or let it go. Of course, the OWLs were more important. She shoved the letter into his hands, holding her own close to her heart. Ron approached from behind with his own letter.
"Well? Let's open it." Urged Hermione and Harry couldn't help but snicker. She was the first to tear it open. Harry followed much less enthusiastically. It was worse than he expected. Somehow, he managed an O in Defense of the Dark Arts, but that glaring E in Potions meant the end of ever being an Auror. Something inside him died again, he didn't care about the D in History or the P in Divination, but that fucking E.
Why did it even matter? It wasn't like he ever was going to be smart enough or strong enough to be one anyway. He shrugged as he looked up from the paper, pushing down the stinging pain. Hermione looked dissatisfied, but Ron seemed neutral. Ron was a little worse than his; Hermione was excellent except for one E. He rolled his eyes; only Hermione would be disappointed at not achieving perfection.
"Good job!" Mrs. Weasley said with a bright smile, sneaking up and startling Harry. Good job? Harry wanted to laugh in her face. She meant well though, she just didn't know how this crushed him. His dreams fell to pieces around him. He usually went through life without goals, without hopes. The Dursley's taught him that hope was useless.
So many nights of being told he was nothing, that he was stupid and just an idiot born to two drug addicts. Even as it was revealed that they were magical, that insecurity never left him. He still felt like nothing, but he let himself hope this time. He let himself dream. He stuffed the parchment into his pocket. It would never see the light of day again. Another failure, you'd think he'd be used to that by now, but it never got better.