Where The Sun Drops | drarry post-war

ten | crash

"Useful session?" Ginny asked as Harry got in the car. She leant over for a kiss on the cheek, which he accepted stiffly.

"Sort of," he said tiredly. "Don't really want to talk about it."

"Oh. Ok, sweetheart."

Harry could tell Ginny was trying not to sound hurt, and he hated himself for that. Hated Malfoy more, but he found he had enough hate for the two of them.

His hands shook as he clicked in his seatbelt and pulled it tight over his chest. I might really fucking need this in a minute, he thought with a flash of panic.

The roads were empty, the sky cloudless and starry, but they still hadn't managed a mile before Harry pulled over, his hands forming trembling fists against the wheel and his face screwed up with distress.

"I can't do it, Gin," he croaked out, "I can't even drive us home."

Her big eyes were full of concern and confusion. "Are you hurt? Or... can you see something?"

"Headache, just a bad headache," Harry lied quickly. "And I feel so drained from therapy, and I can't focus, and I'm really scared I'll crash and kill us both-"

He felt like throwing up, so rested his head against the cool solidity of the steering wheel. It didn't help much.

"What do you want me to do?" Ginny asked, taking one of his hands cautiously in hers. "Have you got your phone to call anyone? Mine's dead but if you have yours we could call a taxi, or get one of my brothers to come down and drive us home?"

Harry rummaged in his pockets, then swore quietly. "Must've left it at home. God, fucking hell."

They were several miles from the house; each of them knew there was no chance of walking - and besides, how could they leave the car in the country lane, abandoned?

Harry looked at Ginny. He couldn't believe he was about to suggest what he was about to suggest.

"You could take over," he said quietly. "You do technically know how, and I could help-"

"Harry, no!" she said, shocked. "I've had about ten lessons, I can't possibly drive-"

"Please, Ginny," he said. His voice was pleading, desperate.

Take control away from me, he mentally willed her. You can't see him all over the dashboard, all over the front of your brain, behind your eyelids every time you shut your eyes for some peace-

"Harry, I love you, but I truly don't understand you right now. Why can't you drive?"

"I'm telling you, Gin, it isn't safe. I'm not safe. Trust me," Harry told her. "And it's because I love you that I'm asking you to stop me."

His girlfriend chewed anxiously at her lip. "You really can't do it?"

"I really can't. It's more dangerous than you know."

She exhaled shakily. "Ok. God. Swap places with me, then. Shit, Harry."

"I know, I'm sorry. I am."

"Don't ever mention this to my fucking mum."

"You've really done it now, haven't you, Pisshead?" Malfoy smirked, craning his head eerily through the glass of the driver's side window. "Not sure if you've actually reduced your odds of a crash here, but we'll see, won't we?"

"Get a fucking grip, Malfoy," Harry hissed, hurrying out and then slamming the door harder than he intended when he got into the passenger seat. He made sure to fasten his seatbelt extra tightly again.