average human’s Reviews > Expecto Patronum > Status Update

He ignored the healers who came in and whispered in the background. He made their words meaningless.

He didn’t care about a ‘prognosis’ or ‘vital statistics’.

He only cared about Susan.

He cared about watching her face, waiting for the moment life would return to her eyes.

He cared about the space where her arm used to be. The area of her body that was disfigured, permanently gone.

He cared about Luna, who was stuck to his side so tightly she may never come unstuck.

Which was fine.

He didn’t want her unstuck from him.

Ever again.

Tell me again, he whispered directly in her mind, using all his concentration to nudge at her mind until she willingly let him in.

Susan will live.

Harry nodded, ignorant of Amelia’s look of concern at the seemingly random movement.

Snape made legillimency sound hard.

It wasn’t.

Harry had loads of practice at this point.

You had to choose to not speak, then force your thoughts in someone else’s mind.

You also had to be willing to listen closely to their thoughts, even if you didn’t want to hear them.

And Luna’s thoughts were the only ones he could bear to hear.



The shadows in the hospital room continued to move, shift around and change, and Susan remained in her state somewhere between life and death.

Someone, Snape he thought, maybe, came in at some point and tried to move him. He used phrases like ‘need to eat’, ‘need to sleep’, and other needs he thought Harry had.

He didn’t have any of those needs.

What he needed was to see Susan’s eyes open.

He didn’t care about anything else past that.

He fell asleep sometimes, always on accident, always jerking awake at the vivid images his dreams painted.



Were they dreams or nightmares if he woke with his heart racing and his hands seeking out Luna and Susan each time?

Were nightmares not just dreams for broken minds?



He could feel spells being cast on him; something that made his skin tingle and smell floral, something that made his insides feel a bit hollow, and something that reminded him of the nutrition potions he once took regularly.

It was fine.

They could keep him alive with their spells, their magic.

Because if Luna was wrong, if she was lying to herself, and him by proxy, then there wouldn’t be enough spells in the world to keep Harry from following Susan to their next adventure.

Theo talked about an afterlife, a place where he would see his mother again.

Harry wasn’t losing Susan.



Someone touched Harry’s head, he ignored it.

They murmured about ‘trauma’, ‘emotional detachment’, ‘disassociation’, and ‘hospitalization’.

Someone began yelling at that last term, then the door slammed and Harry couldn’t hear them anymore.

Harry ignored them all as he studied Susan’s dark lashes, counted the light freckles on her nose, tried to remind himself of the precise color of her eyes.

Teal.

Like the ocean they visited together one summer.



Harry could remember that day, when he screwed his face up to intently concentrate on it. They had been twelve; young, naive, unaware of the future.

’Got you!’ Susan laughed as she splashed Harry with the salty water. ‘Come get me now!’

“Come get me now,” Harry whispered to Susan. “Please?”

“Harry? Are you alright?”

“No,” Harry said without looking away from Susan.

The other voice kept talking, but Harry stayed silent. He had to make their words meaningless. He couldn’t let them distract him from forcing Susan to live with his willpower alone.



It might have been days.

Could have been weeks.

Harry had no idea.

But they removed the mask covering Susan’s mouth. He could see her lips now, could almost see the small puffs of air coming in and out.

Was it life she was exhaling or life she was breathing in?

They whispered about time.

‘Time would tell’.

‘Time to heal’.

‘Time.’



How much longer? Harry asked Luna, tightening his arm around her as he blinked at Susan.

I don’t know.

Find out.

They don’t work like that.

Harry sighed heavily.

It wasn’t surprising the nargles were letting him down now as well.

Everyone else had.

Susan swore she would be careful.

Swore she would take Luna to the castle.

Luna swore Susan would be okay.

Swore she would live.

If Harry couldn’t trust them anymore, who could he trust?



BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Harry sat up quickly, his heart racing as the machine connected to Susan began emitting a new sound.

Someone yelled.

Someone said something quickly, their words mostly a blur with only a few sounds standing out:

‘Waking’.

‘Miracle’.

‘Lucky’.

Harry spotted the silver chain that was somehow still on Susan’s neck and nodded to himself.

That would be staying there forever.



Finally, after a team of white robed wixen backed away from Susan’s bed, her eyes opened.

“Susan!”

Harry jumped as Luna tore out of his arms and threw herself on Susan’s legs.

Susan blinked slowly and started to reach out for Luna before she began to blink much more quickly. She looked to her right and opened her mouth and screamed.



And Harry would never forget that scream, ever.



“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” Amelia was there now, her figure registering in Harry’s mind as she climbed on Susan’s bed and pulled her to her side and began immediately stroking her hair. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Amelia was as willfully blind as Harry had been before Susan’s eyes opened.

She wasn’t okay.

Susan didn’t cry like that.

Susan was supposed to have two arms.

Susan was broken now.

But it didn’t matter.

Because Harry would put her back together if it was the last thing he did.

He would pick up all the tiny pieces, the sharp shards of the person she used to be, and he would puzzle it out until she was herself again.

She’s done it for him before.

He would do it for her now.

“My arm,” Susan choked out, her breaths were ragged and harsh, “where is it?”

Harry opened his mouth, to tell her it was gone, and it wasn’t fine, but it would be, but he somehow forgot how to speak and it took him a moment to remember how to work his vocal chords.

“What do you remember?” Amelia asked her, still cradling Susan gently to her side. Her tears were soaking Susan’s hair. A shower of sorrow and remorse.

“I...” Susan pulled away from Amelia and looked around quickly until her eyes landed on Harry’s. “Harry,” she breathed.

Harry lifted his hand dumbly, unable to say what he wanted to say. Too shocked to force his words in her mind like he had with Luna. Too overwhelmed by her eyes and her voice.

“My arm,” she whispered directly to him. “It’s gone.”

Who gave a damn about her arm?

Harry would buy her a new one.

He’d build her a new one if he had to.

Hell, if it came down to it, Harry would rip one off someone else and force a healer to attach it.

“You’re alive,” Harry croaked out.



The next few days were a painful return to reality.

At some point, when Harry was struggling to breathe while Luna was napping on the sofa and Susan was taken to get a shower and have her bandages changed, Snape appeared.

“You are coming with me now,” he said firmly. “You will shower. You will eat. You will take your fucking potions, then we will return in the morning. At the end of visiting hours tomorrow, we will return to the castle and be back the next morning. We will do this until Miss Bones is released. Is that perfectly understood Harry Potter?”

It wasn’t really perfectly understood. Because Snape looked pissed and Harry couldn’t figure out why. But he nodded uncertainly.

Snape sighed and looked suddenly exhausted as he stared down at Harry. “Child, are you breathing?”

Harry shook his head.

Snape grabbed Harry’s hand and placed it on his own chest. “In and out now,” he said calmly. He took deep breaths, exaggerating the motion beneath Harry’s hand. “Smell the flowers Harry. Inhale.”

It took longer than it should, but Snape must have eventually been satisfied because he bent down and lifted Harry to his feet. “Come now,” he said. He kept his arm beneath Harry’s and guided him to the doorway. “Luna is going to stay here with Amelia, you are going to return in the morning.”

Harry nodded.

“Are you capable of flooing yourself?” Snape asked as they slowly made their way to a white brick fireplace large enough to fit a dozen people in.

Harry tried to consider it carefully, but he got distracted by the chips in the bricks and Snape finally sighed again.

“With me then, Harry,” he said. He pulled Harry to the fireplace and threw a pinch of floo powder and called out, “Severus Snape’s quarters, Hogwarts!”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut tightly, blocking out the dizzying scenes that flashed before him.

It was too late though.

When he stumbled out of the fireplace he immediately fell on all four and threw up on Snape’s floors.

Snape didn’t even sigh this time. He just cleaned it with a wave of his wand and hauled Harry to his feet.

“You will be the death of me,” he muttered as he pushed Harry towards the washroom. “Shower Harry, I mean it. Soap and water.”

Harry’s legs quit working as soon as Snape let go of him. He stumbled and caught himself on the doorway. He turned around and blinked at Snape, willing him to understand.

Snape needed to understand that Harry didn’t understand.

Harry held his eyes and tried to burr in to his mind.

I don’t understand.

“No,” Snape said immediately. “Absolutely not. You will speak out loud Harry. We will not resort to legillimency. There is nothing physically wrong with you, speak brat.”

Harry waited.

He could out wait Snape.

Snape always caved.

“No,” Snape repeated severely. He reached past Harry to open the washroom door. “Either you will voluntarily shower or I will push you in it. Choose, Harry.”

No, Harry thought at Snape’s black eyes pointedly, calling his bluff. Take me back now.

“As you wish,” Snape said. “You are about to be terribly unhappy and I regret it.”

Harry didn’t reply, sure that Snape would take him back.

It was this certainty that led to him being caught off guard as Snape lifted him off his feet and shoved him in the shower.

Harry found his voice again as the warm water struck his head and Snape’s hands were touching his arms.

“STOP! GET OFF ME! STOP!”

“Wash yourself and I will gladly leave,” Snape said, grunting as Harry struck at him. “WASH YOUR FUCKING HAIR POTTER!”

Harry clawed at Snape, angry at the feeling of his hands on him. “STOP! QUIT! NO! STOP!”

“Harry, wash your hair.” Snape grabbed his hands, gripping them tightly enough that Harry could feel his bones shifting beneath him, and moved them to his own hair. “Scrub. Now.”

Harry sputtered beneath the water, his body was sagging down from the weight his wet clothes were adding to him. He moved his fingers mechanically, mimicking the action of Snape’s hands on top of his.

“Good job,” Snape said soothingly. “Excellent, Harry. I am going to leave, can you remove your clothes and wash? I will not be in here if you can do it yourself, I swear to you.”

“Go away,” Harry hissed. “Get the fuck out.”

“Will you wash?”

“YES!” Harry screamed, his throat protesting the sharp noise all the while. “FUCKING GO!”

Snape squinted at him before nodding, “Five minutes then I am returning,” he said.

Harry waited until the door closed behind Snape. He let out a heavy breath and let the water pour over him. He tilted his face up to the stream and reached behind him, grabbing the nozzle and twisting it to the hottest setting.

He peeled his top off, wincing as it pulled on his skin.

How long had he been wearing this shirt?

He studied the soggy lump of dark fabric in his hands and tried to remember if he had put this shirt on before the battle, before Timmy—

It didn’t matter.

He would burn it all just in case.

Harry threw the shirt on the floor before quickly doing the same with his trousers and socks.

Did he used to have shoes? How long has he been walking around in socks?

He kept his pants on though, in case Snape came back.

Harry stood under the water, ignoring Snape’s order to use soap, and let the heat burn the dirt from his body.

He wished he could turn himself inside out, let the water wash away the filth he knew was inside of him.

It was uncomfortable, willingly scalding himself.

But it brought a sense of clarity to his mind.

The more his skin burned, the more the fog left his head.

“Harry.” Snape knocked on the door. “Are you nearly finished?”

Harry opened his mouth, filling it with the hot water and gurgling it before quickly spitting it out.

“I need clothes,” he called out.

“On the sink.”

Harry looked towards the sink, squinting to see through the water droplets on his glasses.

“Can I get contacts?”

Harry couldn’t be sure, since the running water was loud, but he thought Snape laughed.

It sounded hysterical. Like maybe Snape was the one who finally lost his mind completely.

“You may,” Snape called back to him. “Come now, get dressed and come eat.”

Harry wasn’t hungry, but he was hot.

He turned the shower off and stepped out carefully, gingerly patting down his skin with the towel while he avoided the mirror.

He didn’t want to see himself right now.

In fact, Harry never wanted to see his reflection again.

When Harry stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a pair of his own pajamas, he carried his armful of wet clothes directly to the unlit fireplace and put them in the middle of it.

“Can you burn those?” he asked Snape.

“I can. Come sit.”

Harry turned towards the kitchen and Snape let out a quiet hiss as he saw him.

“Jesus Christ, Harry, did I make the water that hot?”

“No, I did,” Harry said simply as he sat down at the table. “Can I go lay down? I’m tired.”

“Not yet.” Snape summoned a potion, ignoring Harry’s quick jerk of his hand at the flick of his wand.

Stupid.

“Take this,” Snape slid the potion to him. A pain reliever, Harry was certain of it.

“No thank you.” Harry slid it back. “I’m not in pain.”

Snape looked like he didn’t believe him, but he pocketed the potion without an argument. “You need your potion,” he said. “It has to be taken today.”

That... that didn’t sound right. Harry furrowed his brow as he considered it.

“I thought I take it on the tenth?” he said slowly. “Yeah?”

“You do, it is the tenth,” Snape said. “Here.” He pulled the off-white colored potion from his pocket and slid it to Harry across the table. “Drink it, now, please.”

Harry picked up the potion and looked at it, confusion beginning to cloud his thoughts once more. “I take it on the tenth.”

“Harry.” Snape slammed something down on the table, startling Harry and clearing away a bit of the thick fog again. “Look child.”

Harry slowly looked down at what Snape was pointing at.

A newspaper?

It took a moment for it to dawn on him that Snape was pointing at the date printed above the headline his hand was covering.

Harry read it aloud, “June tenth.”

“June tenth,” Snape repeated. “Drink your potion.”

Harry popped the cork out of the vial and swallowed it quickly, the taste making him curl his nose as it always did.

“What day did— did I take my OWLS?” Harry asked while Snape passed him a glass of water.

“A little over two weeks ago,” Snape said. He said it so calmly, like it wasn’t the most outrageous thing Harry ever heard.

“What?” Harry’s jaw dropped as he tried to count the days. “When did Susan wake up?”

“Two days ago,” Snape said.

“I don’t... I don’t remember it,” Harry said, panic squeezing his insides. “Snape, is he still in me?!”

Snape quickly got out of his chair as Harry’s breathing quickened. “No,” he said firmly. He grabbed Harry’s shoulders and shook him gently. “You were suffering from disassociation, not possession. Harry, your eyes are green, just like your mothers. I swear it.”

Like that wasn’t somehow more upsetting.

“Were my eyes ever not green?!” Harry yelped.

“Drink this,” Snape grabbed a lavender potion from his pocket, uncorking it and shoving it in Harry’s face in one smooth motion. “Drink this and we will discuss it.”

Harry drank it quickly, frantic to know when his eyes had changed color against his will at some point.

Probably when Timmy was inside him.

Harry shuddered as the calming drought coursed through him, his stomach revolting at the reminder that Timmy had been in him.

Called him his.

Said Harry belonged to him.

“I belong to no one,” Harry said as his breathing slowed. “Right?”

“Right,” Snape agreed vehemently. He was still kneeling by Harry’s chair and peering at him closely. “You are the same person you have always been. Nobody controls you.”

Harry nodded, letting Snape’s words comfort him.

“May I call for Mavis?” Snape asked him as he used the back of Harry’s chair to get to his feet and return to his own chair. “He would like to see you and I would like you to eat an actual meal.”

“I’ll try,” Harry said, his heart thudding at a normal pace. “Were my eyes red when he was- was inside me?”

“They were.” Snape steepled his hands together as he laid them on the table and inspected his nails. “I had forgotten that possession may affect you in a stronger way than it would someone else. I apologize.”

Harry didn’t understand Snape’s carefully worded apology, but he shrugged his shoulders all the same.

Nobody would want someone forcing their way inside them. Controlling them. Breaking their mind. Claiming them. Dirtying their insides with their presence.

It made Harry want to puke when he remembered it, so he tried very hard to push the memory far, far, away.

“I am going to call for Mavis now,” Snape said when the silence between them thickened and caused Harry to fidget. “Mavis!”

Harry clenched the table tightly to keep from reacting as Mavis popped in the room.

“Master Harry!” Mavis took a step towards Harry before freezing and glancing warily at Snape. “Mavis is being happy to see you,” he squeaked. His large eyes were filling with tears and he pulled on one of his ears nervously. “Mavis was worried Master Harry was hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Harry assured him.

Was he fine?

Yeah.

Probably.

“How are you?”

Mavis gulped loudly, the tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. “Mavis will be better when we are all home, Master Harry. It is being too quiet without you.”

Something about that didn’t sound right. Harry narrowed his eyes at Mavis, thinking through his words carefully.

“Why’s it quiet?” he asked slowly. “Barty hates the quiet.”

Son of a bitch.

Harry’s eyes flew from Mavis’ teary ones to Snape’s suddenly sorrowful ones.

“Did they arrest him?” Harry asked. He didn’t remember much between Timmy controlling his body and Susan opening his eyes.

He must have missed so much.

“Fred!” he suddenly gasped before Snape could answer. “And Theo, Trent, Ron, the others!! Snape, are they okay??”

“They are,” Snape said quickly. His expression shifted away from the sorrow Harry saw for a moment to a more purposefully opaque one. “Harry, I swear to you that your friends are all physically recovered and are at Moon Lodge at this exact moment. If you would like to see them after you eat, I would be glad to take you there.”

“What? Why?”

“Why are they at Moon Lodge? I believe Lupin called it ‘group therapy’,” Snape said after Harry nodded at his clarification. “Apparently they are sitting in a circle and discussing the events that took place in Hogsmeade as they have nearly every evening since they were released from the Hospital Wing.”

“Oh.” Harry relaxed again at that explanation. “Yeah, that sounds like something Lupin would do.”

“Indeed.”

“And Barty?” Harry asked. “Was he arrested?”

Harry could tell from Mavis’ quiet sob and Snape’s expression that he was about to hear something he didn’t want to hear.

He resisted the urge to plug his ears in denial as Snape said the words Harry knew in his gut he was going to say.

“Barty is dead.”

Harry was suddenly grateful for the calming drought keeping him functioning.

Barty.

Barty who flew with Harry, made their games in to constant contests. Barty who was a genius. One of the most genuinely brilliant people Harry had ever met.

Dead.

“How?” Harry asked flatly. He pushed his grief down until he could twist it to anger.

Anger was safe to feel, grief wasn’t.

Anger burned away the other emotions, the emotions that had made him an easy target during the battle. Grief was what he wallowed in. What swallowed him whole and kept him drowning for so long.

Anger was safe.

“Black said it was the Dark Lord himself,” Snape said softly. “Barty fought bravely, Harry.”

“Does that make you feel better?” Harry’s eyes were blazing as he stared in to Snape’s. “Does it make people feel better to think someone died ‘bravely’? THEY’RE STILL DEAD! IT ISN’T BRAVE TO DIE!”

“It does make me feel better actually,” Snape said with a faint sneer. “To know that Barty died in a battle for a cause he believed in? It brings me a great comfort Harry. I will thank you to keep your insolent opinions to yourself.”

Harry opened his mouth then slammed it shut again.

He forgot.

“Barty was your Susan,” Harry said. “I apologize.”

“He was also your friend,” Snape said smoothly, his tone even and his eyes suddenly calm once more. “You are entitled to your beliefs Harry.”

Harry looked over at Mavis and felt a painful twinge in his chest at Mavis’ look of absolute misery. “Mavis, are you alright?” he asked softly. “You... you and Barty hung out a lot.”

“Mavis is mourning,” Mavis sniffed pathetically. “Mavis would actually be liking to return to Master Harry’s house now that he is knowing Master is safe. Mister- Mister Barty is being alone now.”

Harry’s hand twitched on the table at Mavis’ abrupt departure, his quiet sob lingering in the air.

“He’s... he’s in our house?” Harry asked as he stared at the spot Mavis disappeared from.

“Until the funeral, yes,” Snape said. Harry saw him tap the table with his wand from the corner of his eye, bowls of soup and a plate of bread appearing on the table moments later. “Eat please Harry.”

Harry’s stomach curled up at the sight of the food and he just stared at it until Snape sighed.

“Two bites of soup and half a slice of bread,” he said. “I cannot keep spelling nutrition potions in you, you need real food Harry.”

Harry was quiet, while he struggled to force the food down, but he counted his bites of soup and mechanically chewed the bread, and finally pushed it all away.

“Can I go lay down?” he asked again. “I’m tired.”

“You may,” Snape said. “Your quilt is on your sofa. Kindly stay off ‘my’ recliner, as that is where I am sleeping.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Snape said. Which wasn’t really an answer.

“Can...” Harry picked at the skin on the back off his hands as he organized his thoughts. “Can I see everyone else tomorrow? Before we go back to Susan and Luna?”

“Certainly,” Snape agreed easily. “I’ll invite them to breakfast here, shall I?”

Harry nodded gratefully and slowly moved to his couch.

He was asleep before he could even fully cover himself with the quilt that was laying across the back of the sofa.

At some point, Harry thought he heard Snape talking to someone, his words filtering in to Harry’s unconscious;

’Trauma... triggered... counseling...’

Harry rolled over and sunk back in to the blissful void.



’SUSAN! NO!’

‘I love you.’

‘Did I kill your friend? Are you so sad?’

‘You belong to me.’



Someone was screaming.

Susan? Was it Susan?

“Nobody is controlling you, you’re safe. I am here.”

Harry couldn’t see. Everything was dark. Someone was screaming so loudly it was hurting Harry’s throat.

“HARRY!”

Harry jerked so hard he was falling. The screaming stopped as he hit the ground and someone grabbed his arm.

“Don’t touch me,” he snarled, yanking out of their grip.

“Can you hear me?”

Harry squinted upwards and it took his eyes a second to work out that the fuzzy black shape standing over him was Snape.

“Why’m I on the floor?”

Snape sighed and held his hand out for Harry to grab, an offer to help him to his feet.

Unneeded.

Harry carefully grabbed the edge of the sofa and pulled himself back up on it.

“A dreamless sleep, I think.”

Harry was breathing heavily, his heart hammering in his chest, his face sweaty, and he nodded compliantly.

Susan wasn’t here. Timmy wasn’t inside him.

He was at Hogwarts. With Snape.

“Here.”

Harry accepted the potion and sniffed it carefully before he drank it.

“You are going to see Lupin after we check on Susan tomorrow,” Snape murmured.

Harry was asleep before he could argue.



When he woke next, it was to the smell of caramel and to quiet voices.

Harry groaned and rolled over, carefully stretching his aching muscles.

“Why do I feel like I fell off my broom?” he muttered.

“Probably because you’ve been sleeping forever.”

Harry flipped over and absently reached for his knife.

“Where’s my stuff?”

“Here’s your glasses. Your knives are in Snape’s office.”

Harry accepted the glasses someone, Fred apparently, handed him. As his vision came in to focus, so did the sound of multiple other people talking in the room. He sat up and peeked over the back of the sofa and saw that his friends, aside from Luna and Susan, were scattered around Snape’s kitchen, sitting on the floor with plates on their laps.

“Time is it?” Harry asked Fred as rolled back to face him, momentarily ignoring the others now that he knew for sure they were alive.

“Little past eleven,” Fred said. He studied Harry so closely that Harry shifted uneasily. “I’d ask if you were okay, but you aren’t, are you?”

“Course I am,” Harry said. He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. “Where’s Snape?”

“In the corridor, talking to Sirius and Remus. And bullshit.”

Harry rolled his eyes at Fred, but Fred only smiled.

“Come eat,” he said. “We’ve been worried about you.”

Harry hesitated. Which was dumb... right? Because these people were his friends. And he’d been worried about them last night. So why did he get the sudden urge to hide from them in Snape’s room?

“Are my eyes green?” Harry asked Fred quickly.

“Yeah.” Fred frowned at him and stuck his hand out slowly. “Your eyes are green, darlin.”

Harry caught sight of the silver and green glittering on Fred’s hand and grabbed it. He let Fred help haul him to his feet and lead him towards the kitchen.

“Harry!” Draco beamed up at him from his very graceless position on the floor. “You look terrible!”

“Draco!” Hermione smacked him and shook her head. “He’s exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” Harry said. Fred pushed on his shoulder a little so Harry sat on floor beside Neville and Fred quickly grabbed him a plate and a drink.

“We’re eating... treacle tart for breakfast? Er... lunch?” Harry asked, squinting with confusion at the plate Fred offered him. He looked over and was even more confused by the drink. “And hot chocolate?”

“Everyone likes hot chocolate, you moron. It’s supposed to make you happy,” Ron said with a grin and a wink.

“And house-elves keep sending you treacle tart,” Blaise smirked. “Mavis made about fifty sheets of ‘Master Harry’s mini treacle tarts’ until Snape told him you can’t bake away grief.”

“That’s...” Harry shook his head at the food on his plate. “That’s mad.”

“Isn’t it?” Theo murmured. He reached across the lopsided circle of students and nudged Harry’s leg with his foot. “I missed you, prat.”

“We all missed you,” Hermione added quietly. “And we miss Luna and Susan.”

Harry glanced towards the door at that reminder. “When Snape gets back in we’re going back to St Mungo’s, I’ll tell them.”

No one said anything for a minute; Harry was silently staring at the door, trying to will Snape to step back in. Everyone else was either staring at Harry or purposefully trying to not stare at Harry.

It was awkward.

Then Neville dropped his cup, spraying hot chocolate all over himself and Harry, and the mug it was in shattered and went everywhere.

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” Neville said. Harry was alarmed to see his hands were shaking and he looked like he was moments away from bursting in tears.

“It’s fine, Neville,” Hermione said calmly. She murmured a couple spells and repaired his cup and cleaned the hot chocolate off them. “See? It’s fine. Did you take your potion yet?”

Harry clearly missed quite a bit while he was with Susan.

“What potion?” he asked sharply while Neville nodded miserably and shifted his hands beneath his legs. Nobody answered Harry, so he turned directly to Neville. “What potion?”

“Nerve rejuvenation potion,” Neville mumbled. “My hands keep just shaking.”

“Why?”

“Uh... cruciatus curse,” Ron said while he was pat Neville’s leg reassuringly. “Nev’s had a hard time.”

“What the fuck happened?!” Harry demanded.

The awkward tension disappeared and suddenly everyone was talking at once. Blurting out their actions and injuries from the battle. It was like a dam burst and everyone wanted to share their piece.

Harry made a very conscious effort to not become overwhelmed and to listen to them all, but the more he heard the angrier he got.

He was going to blow Azkaban to bits.

Right after he apparently broke out Draco’s dad who was arrested with the others.

“I’m better though,” Neville insisted after Ron explained how he’d been cursed until he was unconscious. “And Rodolphus is back in Azkaban and Bellatrix is dead, isn’t she Harry? They said you killed her?”

“I did,” Harry said, eyeing Neville speculatively. “I know you wanted to, but she tried to kill Sue.”

Neville chuckled and the anxiety in his eyes suddenly melted away and was replaced with cheer. “A Muggle gun killing a pureblooded bigot,” he shook his head. “That’s what you call irony.”

“You aren’t mad?” Harry checked. He would have been mad if Neville had been the one to kill her after she attacked Susan.

“Nope,” Neville was all but beaming. “I’m just glad she’s dead. Plus you wanted to kill Nagini, and Fred did that. So I guess we all got the wrong enemies.”

“Can’t believe you snapped your wand,” Harry shook his head at Fred. “Did anyone’s wands even get checked by the aurors?”

“No,” Theo smirked a little. “Apparently with all the knife wounds all the death eaters had, they figured our wands wouldn’t tell them much.”

Fred laughed and slowly stretched his arm behind Harry, the heat reaching his back without the weight of his arm touching him. “I nearly snapped Trent’s too.”

“Where is Trent?” Harry asked.

“Sirius’ quarters,” Draco said. “He’s been staying there at night, poor kid looks miserable when we meet up at Lupin’s.”

“But Trent’s a hero,” Blaise grinned. “He got his photo on the front page of the paper. Apparently while we were killing death eaters and trying not to die, Trent was putting out fires and saving the lives of little girls and crups.”

Nothing about that was really funny, but the others all started laughing while Harry watched them warily.

“Oh don’t look at us like that,” Theo scoffed with a grin still on his face. “Lupin said if we want to laugh about it, we should.”

“You guys are all seeing Lupin?” Harry asked with his brows high. “In a group?”

“I’m not,” Draco said haughtily. “I don’t want to talk about my feelings in front of everyone.”

Harry was nodding in agreement until he said, “I do it in private sessions.”

“I only go for moral support,” Blaise drawled carelessly.

“Blaise cried in the first meeting,” Fred whispered.

“I can hear you Weasley,” Blaise said. “I am a sympathetic crier, and Granger started it.”

“I’m just a crier,” Hermione said with a quiet laugh. “It’s been good though. Professor McGonagall let’s us go to Moon Lodge for dinner every night so we just talk while we eat. It’s good, right Theo?”

“It is... useful,” Theo said slowly. “I suppose we can’t convince you to join us today?”

“No,” Harry laughed humorlessly. He looked towards the door again, the beginning of panic starting to buzz in his stomach. “I’m gonna find Snape. I wanna get back with Susan and Luna.”

“Will you tell them we miss them?” Neville asked. “We stopped by last week, but...”

“But Susan was unconscious and you and Luna didnt even recognize us,” Ron said bluntly. “So tell the girls we miss them.”

“And tell Luna if she doesn’t come back tonight with you that I’m going to go mad,” Draco said with a faint scowl. “She needs food and a bed and and to be out of that hospital.”

“We’ll see,” Harry said doubtfully. Luna hadn’t left Susan’s side since she opened her eyes, he didn’t think food and a bed was enough to drag her away now. Harry used Fred’s shoulder to push himself to his feet, he put his untouched plate on the table and went to find Snape, Fred following beside him.

“I can walk on my own,” Harry snapped.

“Duh,” Fred grinned. “But why should you?”

Harry didn’t have a good answer, and truthfully he liked having Fred beside him, so he stayed quiet as he approached the door before throwing it open.

“Harry!” Sirius jumped when Harry threw the door open and then immediately smiled at him. “Merlin, pup, I’ve missed you.”

“Ta,” Harry said. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could hear that before he exploded, but he suspected it was a pretty small number. He turned to Snape and raised a brow, “Can we go?”

“Certainly,” Snape said. “You have clothes in my bedroom if you would like to go change.”

“Kay.” Harry nodded at Sirius and Lupin and turned to go change when Lupin stopped him.

“Harry, do you want to come to dinner at our place tonight?”

Harry scowled and flashed his eyes irritably at him. “I’m not sitting around in a circle and talking about my feelings,” he sneered. “Nice try.”

Lupin grinned and shrugged in a sheepish way. “I tried,” he said.

“You will be going to see him tonight,” Snape said in his ‘I am the adult and you are the idiot child’ tone. “Or we will not be going to St Mungo’s tomorrow.”

Harry gaped at him. “That’s not on! What the fuck?”

“Agreed or not, Harry?”

Harry ground his teeth until he thought he felt one chip. “Bastard.”

“We will see you tomorrow then Lupin,” Snape said calmly. “You can collect the others this evening?”

Harry stormed back in Snape’s quarters feeling bitter and betrayed while Snape and Lupin discussed ‘schedules’. Snape couldn’t just dangle seeing his best friend as a reward for talking to fuckin Lupin.

“Snape’s an arse,” Harry muttered darkly to Fred, who followed him back in.

“He’s worried about you.” Fred stopped Harry outside Snape’s room and slowly put his hand lightly on Harry’s cheek. “I am too darlin. You don’t look good.”

“I’m fine,” Harry said. He changed the subject quickly, needing to make sure he had all the important information. “Did I miss anything else?”

Because apparently one of his people died, another was in Azkaban, and his friends were all ‘traumatized’.

“There’s a hearing this summer, deciding if Dumbledore should come back to be headmaster,” Fred said quietly. “I heard Snape and Sirius talking in his office the other night. The board wants him back since everyone knows Timmy’s back. Sirius said Dumbledore’s the only one Timmy was ever afraid of, the board thinks that students are safer with him here.”

Harry scoffed, “Timmy isn’t scared of anyone, is he? The board is fuckin stupid.”

”Yeah,” Fred was quiet, Harry closed his eyes as Fred’s hand stroked down his jaw line. “ Snape said... he said Dumbledore tried to kill you?”

Harry tried to remember Dumbledore trying to kill him, but it was all a bit of a blur that gave him a headache when he tried to pull it up.

“Probably,” Harry shrugged carelessly. “Everyone’s always trying to kill me, aren’t they?”

“I won’t kill you,” Fred said with a small smile, sad and sweet. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Harry told him. “I gotta go though, can you... can you just write down anything else I missed?”

His memory was a bit shit at the moment and everything felt overwhelming.

Barty was dead.

’I can give you freedom.’

Draco’s dad was in Azkaban with the dementors.

’You think I can’t protect my people?’

And now Dumbledore might be coming back.

‘I’m going to kill you.’

And Harry was beginning to itch from how long it’s been since he’s seen Susan.

’Are we best friends or not?’

‘Yeah, but I don’t like it anymore.’

“I will,” Fred said. He bent forward slowly and kissed Harry’s forehead. “Go see Susan, I’ll come back here when I get back from Lupin’s, alright?”

Harry nodded, his mind already at St Mungo’s, and went to get dressed.



When Harry and Snape, finally, made it back to St Mungo’s, Susan was awake and looking miserable. Luna was sitting on the bed by her feet, also looking miserable.

It was a bit of a stark contrast to the optimistically calm friends he’d left behind at Hogwarts.

“Harry, hey.” Susan tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “Where’d you go?”

“Snape made me go back to Hogwarts,” Harry scowled. He sat on the bed and carefully inched closer to Susan’s good side. “I have to go back again tonight.”

“Where is Snape?” Susan asked.

“Talking to Amelia in the waiting room,” Harry said. He tilted his head until it was on her shoulder and breathed in her presence.

Alive.

“Everyone misses you guys,” Harry told them softly.

“I miss them,” Susan said quietly. She pulled on her hair lightly while her eyes filled up with tears. “The healers said I can leave in a couple days, but Auntie said I don’t have to go back if I don’t want to, I can just go home since there’s only a week left.”

Luna made a small sound, like a wounded animal.

“Are you going to?” Harry asked her. He grabbed her hand where she was pulling on her hair and laced their fingers together. He reached out for Luna with his other hand until she grabbed it and repositioned her body to put her head on his lap.

“I don’t know,” Susan said quietly. “I- I want to see everyone, but...”

“But you don’t want them to see you,” Luna whispered knowingly. “You’re perfect Susan, just like this.”

“I’m broken, ruined, disfigured,” Susan said. The tears spilled over so Harry moved his head and instead let her tilt her head on his shoulder. “They keep sending healers that say it’s fine, but... but I’m hideous now.”

“What?” Harry narrowed his eyes and squeezed her hand. “Who said you’re hideous?!”

“I do have eyes,” Susan said with a hint of her old snappish tone. “My arm is gone, I look like... like a f-freak.”

“Hey.” Harry squeezed her hand again while he felt her tears in his shoulder. “You’re not a fucking freak, Susan. You’re beautiful and brave and fuckin perfect.”

Susan shook her head, her cries increasing in tempo. “It’s stupid, I know, but- but I used to be pretty. Now... now I just look freaky and l-lopsided.”

“You look like a warrior,” Luna said softly. “Like a...”

“Like a survivor,” Harry said. “Tough and brave. You fought death eaters and lived...” Harry swallowed as he thought of Barty with his blue eyes and his passion for everything. “Not everyone lived Sue. But you did.”

“Because you’re brilliant,” Luna said. “You survived.”

Susan kept crying, so Harry and Luna just quietly tried to comfort her.

Harry didn’t have the right words to say. Didn’t know how to make someone believe they were the same person they’ve always been.

He couldn’t put Susan back together.

He had no idea how to even start.

But...

“You should talk to Lupin,” he said softly while Susan was mostly sniffling. “Everyone else did. And they seem way happier than we are, yeah?”

“You should talk to Lupin,” Susan snapped. She sat up and wiped her face on her blanket, which was disgusting. “You keep saying you’re fine and you’re not. You’re a hypocrite Harry Potter.”

“I am fine,” Harry scowled. “I just... I’ve just been worried about you.”

“You aren’t fine,” Luna said with a solemn look. “You’re in pieces Harry, you need put back together.”

“Well I was fuckin possessed, wasn’t I?” Harry said hotly. “You’re the one in pieces Luna, you’ve got poor Draco panicking at Hogwarts because he’s so worried about you.”

None of them said anything.

Then Susan giggled. It was quiet and it only lasted a second, but it was a giggle.

“Are we arguing over who needs a mind healer the most?” she asked.

Harry’s lips twitched in a bit of a grin and he relaxed against the back of the bed. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

“We should all go,” Luna said softly. She nuzzled up between Harry and Susan like a cat. “Or we’re going to be broken forever.”

“Cheers Lue, that’s really hopeful,” Harry snorted.

Susan rolled her eyes, but she relaxed her posture as well. “Did it have to be Lupin?” she asked with a little whine. “He’s so... so... cheerful.”

Harry considered all the sessions he’s had with Lupin and Fred and he shrugged. “Lupin’s alright,” he decided. “He helped me and Fred patch things up, didn’t he?”

Susan snorted disbelievingly, and it was such a blessedly normal sound that Harry smiled.



It took a few days.

A few days of glaring silently at Lupin and refusing to speak. Only showing up because Snape made him go after they saw Susan.

A few days of switching between seeing his friends in the mornings while Susan was with Lupin, afternoons with Susan at St Mungo’s as she got closer to being discharged, evenings spent silently in Lupin’s office, and nights waking Snape with his screams.

It wasn’t exactly a fun few days.

But then Harry got to St Mungo’s one day and Susan was dressed in normal clothes, she had her hair curled and her makeup done.

“I’m coming back,” she said firmly as soon as Harry walked in the room. “Fuck an arm, I’m Susan Bones. I’m fierce, that’s better than beautiful.”

Harry’s heart soared and he and Luna beamed while they helped Amelia pack up Susan’s various belongings and her huge pile of sweets and cards.

When they got to Hogwarts that afternoon, Susan froze outside the Great Hall. Her eyes were wide and worried.

So Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak from his pocket and had Luna help him carefully tie it around his right arm.

“You’re an idiot,” Susan laughed as Harry offered her his left arm.

“I’m your idiot,” Harry said pompously. “C’mon, Sue, let’s go eat.”

Luna skipped ahead of them and sang so loudly and so off-key that none of the other students really noticed Harry and Susan slipping in their seats to eat lunch with the others.



Things started to seem more normal after that. During the day any way.

Harry still slept on Snape’s sofa. He still woke up certain that Timmy was inside him, claiming him, trying to own him.

He still woke up in a clammy panic, trying to claw his skin off. Sometimes he took a dreamless sleep, sometimes he took a shower hot enough to clear his mind.

Then one night, after Harry shattered the mirror that was using his appearance to mock him, Snape lost his patience.

“Your entire band of misfits can move in with us this summer and I will not say a word of complaint if you will talk with Lupin tomorrow,” he sighed. “Please, Harry. You need help child.”

“I talk to Lupin every day,” Harry said, his teeth were chattering and he pulled his quilt around him more firmly.

“Do you?” Snape asked. “Or do you sit and blink at him?”

“Did he tell you that?” Harry scowled. “Clearly I can’t fuckin trust him.”

“He did not, I know you Harry.” Snape reached over and gently pushed Harry’s fringe off his forehead. “You are drifting in to true madness and I- I do not know how to help you child.”

And that was scary. Because Snape knew everything.

“Please, Harry, for me?”

Harry breathed in deeply.

He held it for a few seconds.

Then he inhaled and nodded.

“For you,” he said.

He regret it almost immediately when Snape rearranged their schedules so Harry could be the first one at Lupin’s the next morning.

Harry glared down at his hands, silently stewing at his predicament.

“Harry, I want to remind you that everything you say stays between us,” Lupin said quietly. “I will never tell anyone a single word you say to me and I will never bring it up to you outside of a private session between us. Okay?”

Harry nodded, his eyes firmly on his hands.

He’d been here before. He knew the drill.

He just didn’t usually feel... feel, period.

Everything hurt recently.

He was raw, exposed, fragile, and he hated it.

So, if Snape, Susan, and Luna swore this would help, well... Harry could trust them.

He knew that for sure now.

They said Harry wasn’t fine, and he probably wasn’t.

So he’d give this an honest go, and if it didn’t work then... then he’d deal with that when he came to it.

His lips quirked as he thought of something Fred told him once.

“What’s making you smile?” Lupin asked.

“Fred says I don’t cross bridges, I burn them down and leap over the chasm,” Harry told him. “I reckon he’s right.”

Lupin chuckled, “I reckon he is too,” he agreed. “What do you want to talk about today?”

Harry could close up.

He could sneer at Lupin and go back to the castle with his secrets intact.

But Susan would know. And if she could come here and talk about feeling broken and ugly, so could Harry.

Harry inhaled and exhaled very slowly, his eyes glued to his hands.

“Can you look at something else?” he asked Lupin. “Just- just look at the wall or something.”

“Alright,” Lupin agreed easily as Harry suspected he would. He could feel the weight of Lupin’s stare shift upwards and risked a glance to see Lupin was now looking directly at the ceiling.

You can do this.

For Luna.

For Susan.

For Snape.

Maybe for himself.

Harry took another deep breath and clenched his hands tightly.

“When I was nine, I was alone. I didn’t have anyone, or anything. And... And I was cold and hungry. Probably dying, I dunno. And...” Harry closed his eyes and ground his teeth together. “And Snape called it assault, he said I was assaulted.”

It was like his insides had flipped inside out, saying it like that.

But Lupin didn’t move or react at all. Not a single muscle in his face twitched. So Harry went on.

“It was disgusting, it made me feel like dirt, like I wasn’t even a person anymore. But I kept living, Snape says I’m a survivor. And it-it kept happening, but everything was fine. But then... then Timmy was inside me, and I... I broke,” Harry admitted in a whisper. “And I dunno how to put the pieces together this time. I don’t think I can put anyone’s pieces back together.”

Lupin waited to make sure Harry was done speaking before he started, his eyes still firmly trained on the ceiling of his office.

“I will help you,” he said, his voice honest and open. “Severus will help you. Sirius will help you. Your friends will help you. You just have to let us. Nothing and no one is broken past repair Harry, you just have to be ready to accept help.”

Harry examined the scratches on his arms where he’d tried to claw out the reminder of Timmy.

“Alright,” he said softly. “Help me.”

***

On the last night at Hogwarts, Harry’s group was on edge at the Slytherin table.

Well.

Maybe Harry was on edge and it was putting the others on edge.

In the morning he’d be on the train, headed to Spinner’s End, and they’d have to bury Barty. Then they’d be packing up, and headed to Invisibility Way, since Snape said that Harry has to be extra careful now.

Harry wasn’t scared, but he would be glad to be in Invisibility Way. Especially since most of his friends would be staying with him this summer.

Hermione wasn’t going home, she’d already told her parents. They were pissed, but Hermione wouldn’t cave. She told them it was an internship opportunity, and they settled down a bit when she promised to write. Draco and Cissa were staying with them this summer, staying close to the central planning while they waited to decide how to help Lucius. Fred had a loft above his shop, but Harry figured he’d be at his place more often than not. And Ron, Susan, and Neville were going to try and join them as quickly as possible.

Luna said she had to go home, needed to see her dad, but she thought she’d probably join them soon.

Blaise hadn’t decided; he didn’t want to stay apart from the rest of them, but he didn’t want to give up ‘possibly one of the last normal summers of his life’.

Which was fair.

“Here, let me.” Harry grabbed the pumpkin juice Susan was reaching for and hurriedly poured it in her goblet.

“That’s it!” Susan snatched the pitcher from him and carefully sat it back down before turning in her seat to directly face him. “I am fine,” she said hotly. “I do not need you to do things for me. I need you to go back to being Harry, alright?”

“Does... do I not usually help you?” Harry asked.

“Pft,” Susan scoffed and then grinned. “You didn’t used to pour my juice, no.”

“Well that’s all changing,” Harry said stubbornly. “Blaise, toss me the rolls so I can give Susan one.”

“I’ll do it!” Trent grabbed a roll and literally threw it at Harry.

Harry blinked at him, momentarily surprised by the bread that just bounced off his forehead. “What the fuck Trent?”

“You... you said to toss them to you?”

It took a few seconds, but Harry’s lips twitched and then his friends all broke out in to laughter.

“Well, here,” Harry snagged the closest serving spoon to him, sitting inside a bowl of gravy, and flung it at Trent.

Then someone yelled ‘FOOD FIGHT!’

It was Fred.

He told Harry later, when they were laying on Snape’s sofa in front of the fire, that he’d always wanted to start a food fight and figured his last night was the best time for it.

After all four tables finished throwing food at each other, once McGonagall cleaned the four tables, and Sirius was on the ground laughing by the head table, Slytherin lost a hundred points.

Even though Fred is a Gryffindor.

But, since Trent Bailey apparently saved the life of a four year old girl, Alison Kent, Slytherin was awarded five hundred points for ‘acts of altruistic heroism in the face of terrorism’.

And Snape smirked at Harry as he accepted the house cup once again.



“Trent, you’re really a lucky charm,” Ron laughed as he and Trent returned from buying armfuls of sweets from the trolley lady. “The trolley lady doesn’t hate him, apparently.”

“Thanks,” Trent smiled up at Ron before dropping the treats he carried on the floor in front of Harry and Susan.

Susan leaned over and tapped her shoulder to Harry’s. “Are you going to give me one?” she batted her eyelashes at him. “Maybe unwrap it for me, hand feed me?”

“Piss off,” Harry pushed her a little, hiding his internal surprise at having accidentally pushed on the stump where her arm used to be.

“Auntie says I can get hook for a hand if I want,” Susan giggled, guessing at what made Harry’s mouth pinch at the edges. “Or maybe I’ll get a peg arm, like Moody’s leg, and I can just whack everyone with it.”

Harry looked at her face of absolute seriousness and let out the first real laugh he’s had in weeks.

“That would be brill,” he told her. “We could add spikes to it, those would hurt like hell.”

“Gun hand!” Neville suddenly laughed from his seat. “Susan, forget a hook! Attach Harry’s gun to the end of it!”

Harry smirked at Neville, he was much more pro-gun now that it killed Bellatrix. “I’ll buy you one for your birthday Nev.”

“Don’t you dare,” Hermione said while Neville let out a loud cheer. Hermione looked like she was trying to be stern, but her lips were curling up even as she scolded them. “One crazy person with a gun is more than enough for our gang.”

“Muggle guns for everyone!” Ron cried gleefully. “Harry can teach us to shoot, right Harry?”

“Right,” Harry nodded.

Theo looked a little green.

Harry relaxed against Fred’s legs as he looked around the compartment at his friends while they debated the best attachment for Susan’s prosthetic.

Everything felt different; more vivid, more raw, but...

Harry caught Luna’s eyes from her place beside Draco and shared a small smile.

It would be fine.

He just knew it.

Chapter End Notes

Up Next: I titled the chapter ‘angst’ so... so there’s that. Sorry guys. But hey, I didn’t kill Susan. 😅

Ps: “Fuck an arm, I’m Susan Bones,” is truly my favorite line in this entire series.