分卷阅读10（1 / 2）

“He did it to himself.” She said, and then the tears came for real, a torrent of them. “He did some damage Ron.”

Harry doesn’t remember listening to her. All he remembers is that one moment his picture of Seamus included the Seamus he knew from school, the happy one that was in love with Dean, and now there was this other Seamus in his head, the one that kissed Dean good bye on his way to work and then sat down to write a note, who locked himself in a bathroom, who got found by Luna three hours later covered in his own blood and crying about how he couldn’t make himself cut deep enough, could she finish it, please.

Please, he had apparently sobbed, letting her pull him into her arms like he was still a little kid. Please let it end.

Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach, so he turned away, but he couldn’t hide from it forever, because Ron was on his feet, one arm wrapped around his sister’s shoulders. “I’m going home.” He said, voice grim, but determined in the way it had been back when they were preparing to do something dangerous, like he was checking things off of a to-do list. “Making her a strong cup of tea. You want to go keep Dean company in the hospital until Hermione gets there?”

No, he wanted to say, because he did not want that, he did not want to see Seamus like this, he did not want to sit in uncomfortable chairs and tell his friend meaningless platitudes, he did not have to be the one to deal with all of this.

But that’s not what he says.

“Sure,” He hears himself saying, reaching for his shirt to get dressed, inexplicably wishing Draco could come but realizing in the same moment that he wouldn’t be welcome. This was not about Harry’s comfort. “Of course I’ll go.”

Draco

Harry was late, which meant that Draco was waiting when he came home, settled into the corner of the couch with a book spread across his lap.

“I’m late. I know.” Harry didn’t give Draco time to respond, just yanked off his coat and threw it down on the chair with an anger that Draco hadn’t seen since they were in school. “Something came up.”

“Is everything—” He meant to ask if everything was okay, but doesn’t, because the words aren’t out of his mouth before Harry is leveling his stare at him.

“Everything’s not okay, actually. You want to know why?” Draco didn’t, really. He didn’t want to know why Harry looked so pale, or why his eyes are red enough to make Draco think he had been crying, or what that stain on his shirtsleeve was. He didn’t want to know why he was so late or why his hands or shaking or why he had slammed the door so hard when he came in. He just wanted things to be okay. “Seamus went and bloody tried to kill himself, that’s why, ripped himself apart from wrist to elbow.”

He seemed to be waiting for some sort of reaction on Draco’s part, and Draco felt horribly like he was failing some sort of a test. He puts the book down and the gets to his feet, like he might actually be thinking about walking over and giving Harry a hug, of all the stupid ideas. But then Harry leaves the room entirely, and Draco follows.

Harry is kicking the chair. Repeatedly. And then he is sitting in it, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, hands yanking at his hair. And then he’s staring up at Draco like he might find some comfort there, the face of someone who has reached their breaking point. “It never ends, does it?” He sounds like he has been drained of every last drop of motivation, like finally after everything, Seamus will be the one who breaks him. “It just brings more pain.”

“It’ll stop.” Draco says, wondering if this is helpful, wondering if he should leave Harry to work through this on his own. “We’ve just got a long way to go.”

Harry stares at him for a moment and then he stands, and for half a moment Draco thinks he is leaving because what he said was wrong, was unsensitive, and he’s already halfway to apologizing when Harry re-enters the room while shrugging on his coat. “I need a drink.” And just before Draco can start worrying that it had been him that drove him away from his own home, Harry turns around one last time, raising an eyebrow with something that might have been impatience. “You coming?”

Draco doesn’t hesitate.

Harry

Draco does not really fit with the people here, but since Harry had started dragging him along to everything as his plus one, no one thought to argue, just ordered another round of drinks and said it was on the two of them.