Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter, all characters belong to JK Rowling :)
Chapter warnings: none :)
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The spinning started immediately – colours and heat and sound rushing past his ears – and then he stumbled out onto the familiar rug in the dim, echoing hallway of the Black family home.
And there was Sirius.
He barely gave Harry a second to catch his breath before wrapping him in a tight, wordless hug.
Harry froze, just for a moment, before he let himself lean in.
From somewhere deeper in the house, Harry heard the familiar sound of tea being poured, and quiet footsteps he knew belonged to Remus.
He closed his eyes and let himself breathe. Tears ran down his cheeks, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had an overwhelming, gut-wrenching feeling of failure. He'd tried so hard to be okay, to just be normal – and yet here he was.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled by Sirius's shirt.
"Don't be." Sirius said, squeezing Harry tighter.
"Come on, let's sit down. I think we should talk," Sirius said gently when Harry finally pulled away, roughly wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Harry followed him to the kitchen, where Remus stood by the kettle, spooning sugar into three mugs of tea. He smiled when he caught Harry's eye – a small, sad smile.
Soon, they were sat all sat at the table. Harry wrapped his hands around the warm mug of tea in front of him, watching the steam rising in swirling tendrils off the top.
"What happens now?" Harry asked quietly.
"Dumbledore said that you can continue with your schoolwork here, if you want. But, mainly, everyone just wants you to get better," Sirius said. He sounded strangely subdued.
"No one's angry with you, Harry. Just worried," Remus added gently.
Tears welled in Harry's eyes. "I want to get better," he said quietly.
"That's good, Harry," Remus smiled. "Wanting to get better is the first step."
There was a sudden 'crack' from the next room, and Sirius stood up. "That'll be Dobby with your things," he said, and left the room.
Harry turned to Remus, finally meeting his gaze. "Is it okay if I go to bed?"
"Of course," Remus said softly, then hesitated. "Harry, I'm sorry but I have to ask – are you sure you're going to be safe on your own?"
Harry's chest ached. "I'm okay, I promise. I just want to sleep."
Remus studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. If you need anything — anything at all — you wake one of us, okay?"
Harry nodded, already pushing back his chair. Sirius was still in the hallway with Dobby, murmuring something about the best place for Harry's trunk. He looked up when Harry passed.
"Need anything?" Sirius asked.
Harry shook his head. "Just… sleep."
Sirius didn't press. He just gave a short nod and reached out to squeeze Harry's shoulder gently as he passed. No words — just the touch. It said enough.
The stairs creaked beneath Harry's feet as he climbed. His limbs felt like they were made of stone. The guest room door stood slightly ajar; someone had already lit the fire, and a pair of pyjamas — his — had been folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Dobby, probably.
Harry closed the door behind him and stood there for a moment, staring at the soft golden light flickering across the walls. It felt surreal — too quiet. Too safe. Like he'd slipped sideways into someone else's life.
He didn't bother changing. Just kicked off his shoes, pulled off his jumper, and crawled beneath the covers. The sheets were crisp and cool against his skin.
His chest still hurt. But not the sharp, frantic ache of before — more like a bruise, throbbing dully beneath the surface.
He lay still for a long time, staring at the ceiling.
Eventually, his eyes drifted shut.
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