Chapter Text
Harry laid on his back in the middle of the grass, behind a big bush of lilac. He didn’t exactly remember how he got here, but the heat was overbearing even at dusk.
Harry stared at the sky - he didn’t care much if he was staring at the monotonic white ceiling of his room or the beautiful mix of colors in the twilight sky.
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon dragged him outside forcefully, not that he was posing much resistance. He just didn’t care.
“You’re a shame to your aunt’s family” Uncle grumbled as he kicked him outside “What was going on before was rough but this level of sloth is unacceptable…”
Uncle was right, maybe. Harry had a tough time thinking about them lately. His mind was constantly stuck somewhere in between his nightmares that kept him awake and woke him with a scream, and vague letters, or lack thereof, from his friends and the whole wizarding world. Somewhere in the sidelines of his consciousness he could tell that he smelled, or was thirsty. He didn’t care much about his physiological needs lately - part of the reason why dursleys kicked him outside of his room, so aunt Petunia could clean there.
He rubbed his face, feeling just how sweaty it got. He couldn’t remember when he actually used shampoo during his quick, generic showers, but it was probably back in Hogwarts, when Ron could still help him. He didn’t remember much from that time, not that he could ask anyone for a recap.
From vague letters from Hermione and Ron he could tell they were somewhere together - and for some reason he had to stay at Dursleys. In between the lines they told him Dumbledore is the one who censors the messages and that they’re trying their best.
Harry however, wasn’t trying his best anymore. In fact, he was barely trying at all.
Sirius on the other hand didn’t tell him much information at all, but his letters were far more spirit-lifting.
He often said that he knows how tough it is for Harry and that just a little more and they’ll meet. Lately all of them were just waiting for Harry to write back.
“Where is that hairy thing?” Asked uncle Vernon, his voice loud, right next to the kitchen window.
“I don’t know.” Answered Aunt Petunia conservatively. “But I don’t want his lice anywhere close to my home.”
“He has WHAT?” Uncle Vernon whisper shouted.
“He has something. Everyone would, after being this filthy for so long” Aunt Petunia’s voice broke down at the end “Vernon I… I can’t anymore…”
“Shh, Tunny…” Harry heard quiet sobs, much more muffled now. He could tell that he was being a problem for Dursleys but he was so used to it now it barely scraped the borders of his catatonic mind. He didn’t feel particularly guilty about them. He had enough guilt to carry as is, and he could tell that if his mind allowed him to feel even an ounce more, he would annihilate.
“Where’s Dudley?" Aunt Petunia sniffled “I don’t like when he goes back late…”
“He has friends, my dear. A young boy like him is bound to stay up sometimes” Uncle’s voice changed completely when he was talking about his son. Harry almost forgot sometimes that Dursleys could be loving, helicopter parents if they wanted. Just not to him.
He felt a soft pang in his heart, which surprised him so much that he sat up. Why was his heart still hurting when thinking about the Dursleys? Didn’t he have enough on his plate already?
His mind didn’t listen to him however and soon he could feel his body trembling, almost like an out of body experience. He wiped his tears methodically, hoping they would stop soon because crying made him tired and he didn’t want to fall asleep yet. His screams would likely keep the whole neighborhood awake, and Dursleys would muffle him - or finally kick him out.
With every week they felt more and more relaxed around Harry compared to last summer. He wasn’t keeping them on their toes anymore with threats about his serial killer godfather, or wand that somehow almost always found its way into his hand when he needed it most - not that he would use it, obviously. Especially now, he didn’t know if he’d be able to cast simple Lumos if his life depended on it.
No, the Dursleys could tell that whatever happened to Harry at school - which didn’t bother them much from a pedagogical standpoint - was keeping him harmless and pliant. During those rare times when he left his room, Dudley had no problem shoving him at the wall, watching him bounce back on the ground, his aunt and uncle trying their best to mobilize him, so he’ll be able to do housechores again. They weren’t successful in that matter and after some time stopped trying, counting days till he’ll be off their shoulders again.
When he finally got inside the whole house was quiet except from tv in the living room playing on low-volume - aunt must’ve wanted to stay up till her beloved Duddy will be back. When he dragged himself up the stairs and to his small room, he could see that aunt petunia got rid of most of his belongings, alongside with his sheets, leaving only some easy to wash blankets behind. He couldn’t see Hedwig’s cage either, which only brushed past his consciousness uncomfortably.
Like on a command, Hedwig came back with another letter - the rest of them left in the highest drawer of his desk, throwing yet another one on top. She landed softly on the surface, looking around curiously then in confusion when she couldn’t see her cage.
“I’m sorry, girl” Harry croaked out, delicately petting her head with shaking fingers. She looked up at him with wide eyes. He averted his own, feeling the wave of emotions he was suppressing for weeks dangerously close to breaking.
He inhaled air though his nose, holding the edge of his desk tightly.
Cedric, guilt, pain, Voldemot’s red eyes, guilt, pain, pain, pain, deatheaters, Cedric’s body, pain, grass, pain, pain, pain, guilt, guilt guilt-
He heard Hedwig jump up with a quiet hoo. He glanced down seeing half the desk in dark, almost swollen marks, like poison, or tentacles of burnt wood.
“Sorry…” he whispered, taking the crumpled letter and opening it with a rushed, shaky movement. He could barely see the words, but eventually recognized Sirius’s writing:
“Harry” something something “I’m sorry but” something something “Another month” something something “Don’t do anything stupid”
The words vibrated in his mind making his legs give out as he fell on the bed.
He started laughing quietly, finally feeling something, anything push through. Another month? Another month here, alone - like this?
Now he was laughing out loud, holding his stomach from how hard the breath left his lungs, breaking into sobs now and then, finally blooming into full on breakdown, lack of breath, shaking on the ground, vaguely feeling Hedwig bite and tug at his clothing as he screamed and cried so hard he could feel his mind going insane.
Something was happening, something was happening, someone turned on the light or did it turn on by itself? He heard Hedwig squeal, someone shaking him then beating his face hard, but Harry couldn’t snap out of it, Next month, another month here, another month like this, no, no, no, no-
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
He felt something wet fall onto his face. Drop, then another one, then another. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness outside. Ah, he was outside now. The rain was falling on his face. Where was he? Still on Private Drive, perhaps.
He turned around, seeing the door to the house wide open, hanging off the hinges. He looked around, but there was no one here - not even one head in the window.
He tentatively stepped inside almost on autopilot.
He couldn’t see much, like someone had cast a spell that stopped him from seeing more than ten centimetres before his eyes. He stumbled up the stairs on muscle memory, tripping a couple times on weak muscles, bumping into some or falling over from time to time.
“Hello?” he croaked quietly, then louder, but the house remained dead silent. When he stepped into his room, all the darkness disappeared like it was never there. He glanced back - no, the corridor was still pitch black, only his room was clear of the smoke. The whole room looked untouched. Like nothing changed, like it was never lived in. Like the house didn’t remember neither him, or anyone else. There was no Hedwig and no Dursleys in sight.
Oh. So he finally went insane - he mused quietly stepping out.