Chapter Text
“You can’t be serious, Harry!” Ron's voice echoes through the cold, damp, and empty living room of Grimmauld Place, which was undoubtedly not a "living" room based on its condition. Empty bottles of alcohol, muggle and wizen alike, were scattered on the floor, a blue marble ashtray filled with cigarette butts, and of course the star of the show himself, Harry Potter, lying on the worn out sofa wearing his Weasley sweater and grey joggers.
Harry decided to stay in Grimmauld after the war since it was the only place he could think of, and the only one he had, if he was being honest. The Dursleys have upped and vanished after they left Privet, and honestly, good riddance. While they weren’t that bad, there was no familial relationship, there was barely any talking during the last years he had to say there, just do your chores and go.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley offered to let him stay at the Burrow, but he couldn't accept it even if he wanted to. He wanted to give them the privacy they deserved, especially after Fred’s death, wanted to give them some time to cope and grief in their own way without them fussing and worrying about him. Most of the Order, well–what’s left of them, even opened their homes to him but he knew it was just for niceties.
Without a place to go he crashed with Neville in the apartment he got in France before he found out that Sirius named him his Heir and left everything he had to his name. Dealing with the Goblins after the Dragon incident and his stealing of the cup wasn’t exactly something he was looking forward to. When he first got the letter he panicked and almost threw it in the fireplace, thankfully Neville was there when his posts were delivered and managed to stop him in time. It was apparently illegal to burn a letter from official and legal business, especially letters from Gringotts.
He was made Sirius’ heir just right after he won the Triwizard Tournament. Sirius was going behind Dumbledore’s back and discussing with the goblins to officially adopt him, him and Remus. He felt like he was losing Sirius all over again when Burgock, the goblin who managed the Black estates after Griphook died, told him everything, felt like he just lost another life he never had.
He mourned for Sirius, Remus, and everyone else they had lost to the war during the last two years. He knew in his heart that Grimmauld was the only place he could go to because it was where Sirius lived, it was where the Order stayed, it was where he can feel even just the thought of Sirius living with him, just like they were supposed to.
Andromeda drops by to visit him the most after the war, taking care of him as much as she could. During her visits, she brings Teddy along, leaving him to play with Uncle Harry. Getting to spend time with Teddy was the only thing he looked forward to most of the days, just waiting for the sound of the floo and Teddy’s little squeals of delight. They used to visit him everyday, but Harry asked Andromeda to stop coming over for some time now. It wasn’t that he felt burdened by them, or that he was escaping from the responsibility he had, but he just couldn’t stomach seeing Teddy anymore.
It honestly started when Teddy first had his accidental magic. It seemed that when he finally had access to his magic, his family gifts also became active. It was fun at first, watching as Teddy’s hair started changing colours whenever he wanted something or felt something, just like Tonks. Then it happened, Teddy changed into him, a baby him. Something snapped in him that day, seeing a version of him so young and innocent, a version of him that didn’t have a scar, a version of him that didn’t have the burden he had at that age. It broke him. He also felt guilty whenever Teddy transformed into a younger version of him because it erased every feature of Remus and Tonks, it was all him. Teddy should be transforming like Remus, his hair changing colours and Tonks doing the same, laughter and small giggles following. Little Teddy is growing up now and he feels guilty that he would be just like him, without the silliness and feisty side of Tonks, without the intelligence and compassion of Remus. He’s afraid that if he sticks to Teddy too much, he will be just like him, a young orphan who would not lead a typical life. A child who would never be able to say, "Goodbye mum and dad, but I'll promise to write letters always!", He lost that because Harry took it away from him. Because Teddy already said goodbye to them, even if he was too young to even know exactly what that goodbye meant.
So he stayed away from Teddy, from Ron and Hermione, from Everyone.
“Harry–HARRY!” Ron screams at his face to try and get his attention, not that it worked. He wasn’t sure what Ron was even mad about anymore, he just always seemed to be mad at him these days. Ron has always been quick to anger ever since they both met, but after wearing that locket when they first went and searched for all the remaining Horcruxes, it took just one wrong look for Ron to turn redder than his hair and scream. He almost failed the Auror Program because he was too hot-headed.
Harry took a quick peek around to see Hermione looking at him with those motherly eyes she recently gained after adopting Victoire and Dominique. Harry hated those eyes, hated seeing memories of how his own mother looked at him like that. Eyes that were always glassy as if she would tear up, round and full of wisdom she would willingly share with anyone who asked, yet filled with love for everyone she held dear. It was eyes that were too true, too pure to have after everything that happened to her, to all of them.
Eyes he knew he would never be able to have.
“Are you even listening to me? Quitting so soon after we just finally finished Auror training? Harry, you've gone mad! ” He snaps at him, “We were supposed to graduate together, become Head Aurors and bring peace to the Wizarding World! HAVE YOU REALLY JUST GIVEN UP AFTER EVERYTHING?!” Ron screams, slamming his hands on the walls as if it would hammer the words in Harry’s head. The quiet home was now filled with the gibberish screams of a woman shouting about blood purity and blood traitors. How her beloved and noble name was smeared with half-bloods and unworthy people ever since her son was born.
Walburga’s continuous screams of how she was now an embarrassment after bearing spineless children hurt Harry because what did Sirius even do to the world to have his memory tarnished by a woman who he cannot even call a mother? He tried everything in his power, every spell he could find in the library, even the darkest of their kind, just so he could destroy the bloody portrait or atleast remove it from the walls so he can burn it with fiendfyre, but Walburga was a powerful witch and so is the fucking curse she cast on her own portrait. Wandlessly casting a silencing charm to Walburga’s portrait,he faces Ron and Hermione, squinting at them, looks like his eyesight just got worse.
“Why now, Harry?” Hermione quietly asks. She takes slow, unsure steps towards the couch he was sitting on, putting her hand out like she's handling a fawn. “What’s happening to you? You disappeared on us right after the war, we had to find out from Neville that you were in France! We let it be because we thought leaving Britain was how you would deal with everything, but you came back and started living in Grimmauld.” Hermione kneels down beside him, her hands cradling him.
“I don’t understand, Harry. Let us understand.” She pleads, crying as she finally witnesses Harry’s down spiral. “You never visit the Burrow, have you seen how Victoire and Dominique are? They have grown so much already. Ginny’s asking how everyone’s been and we can't answer for you.You look like you haven’t eaten in days…have you even been sleeping?” She covers her mouth when she sobs as he shakes his head no.
“I think you need help mate, those mind healers might solve this.” Ron says. Harry shakes his head frantically at that.
“I’m not some problem that needs to be solved, Ron!” He shouts, “I don’t need help, I'm fine! I’m alive, aren’t I? ” He looks up to see their faces, hoping to see that they were satisfied with his answer, but they weren’t, if anything, Harry might have raised the warning flags even more.
“But you aren’t okay, are you, mate?” Ron asks, kneeling on the floor beside Hermione. “You're living in a pigsty! The house is a mess, you're a mess. We came here to see you and you were staring at the walls, you were just staring at nothing for five minutes before you even glanced at our direction!” Ron blurts out, Hermione nodding her head in agreement.
“Andy came to visit and the kids had a playdate. Teddy was looking for you, he asked us why you weren’t playing with him anymore. Whatever this is, it had to stop, Harry. You pushed all of us away for the last year, we thought it was too painful for you to remember everything we went through so we didn’t bother you, but it’s getting out of hand. I’m afraid we’ll lose you if this goes on.”
He remembers Hermione talking like this to Victoire once when she hit Teddy for sitting at her doll. She was telling her how it was a bad thing to do but her voice was so sweet, so full of love that you’d think she was putting the child to sleep, and now she was using it on Harry. Wasn’t that a bit insulting? Being treated as if he was so fragile that one wrong word and he would break.
He doesn’t answer because he can’t deny what they’re saying, and for once, he hates how smart Hermione was and how long they all knew each other. His eyes stares at Hermione for a long time, smiling a bit when she does, it was a weak attempt to soothe the both of them but it does the job.
“You still have it.” He whispers as he catches a glimpse of Hermione’s arm. Clean, flawless skin where her scars should have been. She learned to cast a powerful glamour to hide the scars Bellatrix gave her. They couldn’t magic it away because wounds made without magic were permanent and irreversible, just shows that magic can’t really heal everything. Hermione follows his gaze but avoids looking at that part long enough.
“Yes, I do. I find it more comforting to have it on then not.” She lets Harry touch her arm where it was carved, removing the heavy glamorous she cast on it. “Does it hurt?” Harry asks, voice too weak.
“It used to but it doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s already healed, Harry” she whispers as she joins her hand with his.
He nods and before he knows it, he is crying, his hand grabbing his chest when he feels like he’ll run out of oxygen.
“Mine still hurts, ‘Mione. It won’t stop. ” He was hitting his chest over and over as he cried out his heart to them, “I can’t do it anymore. Going out like nothing happened, its not fair to Sirius, or Remus and Tonks, to Fred, to everyone who fought for the war, who fought for me.” Ron conjured one of the newspapers into a weighted blanket and wrapped it around him, hugging him as well in the process. “I feel like everyone is leaving me behind. Now that the war is over…what am I supposed to do? What purpose do I have left?” Hermione also joins Ron in hugging him, rocking all of them as she sways Harry back and forth.
“I-...I was supposed to die… Dumbledore said I had to die, and I felt like I always knew that was what meant to happen.” He takes a deep breath and Hermione hands him a glass of water, “What are you supposed to do next when you’ve planned to die?”
None of them answered, just like none of them knew exactly what was going through Harry’s mind. They stayed there hugging Harry and cleaning up the mess that was at Grimmauld. Ron firecalled Mrs. Weasley and asked if she could bring some food enough for three people because they couldn’t leave Harry alone, not when he admitted that he felt like he wanted to die.
While they were waiting for the food to be sent over, Harry was talking about everything that happened at Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione even adding some details he had forgotten. “I remember wanting to be an Auror when I was young, after Ron told me about it, how could I not dream of it as well? I remember how we stayed up all night planning how our lives would be after we left hogwarts. Us having desks beside each other and having an adventure while on the job.” Ron just laughs at that, remembering the scrawny kid they both used to be, talking about being the heroes of the wizarding world.
“But I already did it, Ron. I killed a man when I was 11, and defeated a dark Lord two years ago. Don’t you think I already went through that childish dream?” Ron seems taken aback by what he said, not expecting it. “I don’t think I can even go on fieldwork without thinking about how I would be leaving for months looking for a horcrux again. Everytime I leave, I can hear Hermione calling for her parents, begging no one to spare them. Hear everyone’s voices asking me to save them. I don’t want anything to do with war and fighting anymore. Please…” he pleads.
“Do you…do you really think that?” Ron asks, sounding pained, “Think that we would go through it all over again?”
“No, but it feels like it.” He silently whispers. Pleading to every God he knew that his friends would understand, that they would listen and just let him be.
“Then, then, don’t go back there mate. I’ll get your things from the lockers and bring them here.” A strong hand claps him on the back and he almost falls off the couch if it wasn’t for Hermione holding him still. “I’ll get mum to send food here everyday until you feel well again, okay? So just, stop crying. Makes me bloody uncomfortable.” Ron mumbles and adjusts the blanket that was sliding off of his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” I’m sorry for being a burden. I’m sorry for giving up. I’m sorry for not finishing the dream we built together. I’m sorry for not being strong enough to move on from it.
“We’re always here for you, Harry. We’ll never leave you, you just have to talk to us so we will understand what's going on. Please don’t hide from us, I don’t want to lose you, I don't want to lose anyone anymore.” “Yeah mate, Mione might be the brightest witch but we both know she’s not that great a mind reader,” Ron jokes, earning him a stinging hex from Hermione.
“Not the time for a joke, Ronald!” She scolds, “Thought we could use the distraction. Harry definitely appreciated it.” He points to Harry who was smiling at their antics.
When Mrs. Weasley arrives, she just gives Harry a warm hug, saying nothing as she pats his back and gives him a smile. Even without words, he knew that she knew everything. A simple hug from her made him understand everything she wanted to say, everything that was going through her mind at that moment.
A mother’s hug.
He felt guilty for hugging her and holding her tight, asking her to stay for a few minutes. He knew that Mrs. Weasley was probably still cooking food for everyone at the Burrow, knew that he was probably holding her up by asking her to stay, but he wanted to cherish it so badly. For the first time in a long time he felt protected from every bad thing in the world that was out to get him, like he could take his time resting and everything would be alright as she would be there to help him fix it
It hurt when he had to say goodbye.
The three of them ate quietly, no small talk, just the three of them basking in each other's presence, savouring the few quiet moments they had together.When it gets late, the both of them were hesitant to say goodbye, assuring him that the kids would be okay if they stayed with him for the next few days. He politely declined, saying that they had kids now and they couldn’t drop everything for him and that he would be fine. They only left after making him promise to write letters and go to the Burrow for Sunday Dinner.
He feels lost after he had the house to himself again. With no one to ground him or to give him any sort of direction, he sits by the fireplace and stares at it, imagining the fire slowly spreading out and burning him as well. It didn’t take long for him to completely lose it and start to reach out to the fire, placing his hand near enough to the open flames that his skin sizzled and it burned, it was only when his hand had hurt hard enough that he was able to pull away. Covering it up with a piece of fabric and making sure it wouldn’t fall off when he slept, he lies down on the floor, hoping that magic will just make things better for him tomorrow.