Post-peace Chaos (Drarry)

Chapter 22

[Harry]

"Harry!"

He felt two pairs of strong arms enveloping him into a tight hug as the sobs continued to burst out of his lungs.

He knew no shame. He let the tears pour as his two best friends nearly squeezed him out of breath.

"How- did you- know-" Harry managed through fits of hiccups.

The couple drew back, sinking back to the floor with Harry.

"You only wrote a word but we can't even read it. 'Mione knew you were in trouble right away."

Harry picked up the piece of parchment Hermione passed to him. Indeed, in his shaking fits of fury, he wrote something remotely close to 'fnuhlcz.'

He sighed in defeat, silent tears still streaming out of the corners of his eyes. Ron gingerly passed him a piece of tissue.

"Do you know who?" Hermione asked anxiously as Harry blew his nose.

He felt as if Godric Gryffindor's sword were plunged into the depths of his heart. He winced and more tears came running down his cheeks.

"M-Malfoy."

The couple looked as if they were cast petrificus totalus.

"Draco Malfoy?"

Harry wailed. He felt like the biggest baby throwing the biggest tantrum on Earth. The sound shook the already petrified couple.

"I- I told him," he whispered. "I told him..."

He told them the full story, crying until he literally dried out.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione threw her arms around him and looped him into an embrace extremely similar to Mrs. Weasley's. After all, she was, indeed, Mrs. Granger-Weasley. It was Hermione's turn to shed an incredible fit of tears.

Ron, however, looked like a human version of beets. "I'm going to bloody strangle him to his bloody end," he seethed.

"Ron!" Hermione shot at him, still gripping Harry tightly.

"How could he?" Harry asked to particularly no one, his voice sore and dry, no longer sobs.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione said, rubbing his shoulder.

"We made truce! We bloody UNDERSTOOD him! Hell, even I understood! I can't believe that git!" Ron bellowed.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Hermione unattached himself from Harry. "Now. Is. Not. The. Time."

"I thought he was different, 'Mione!" Ron protested. I did too, Harry thought.

"That still doesn't waver any facts of the war and his innocence," Hermione said firmly. "This is about personality. We made a truce, and we're not questioning it. This is not linked to the war."

Ron let out a breath. "Still can't believe that git though," he said to Hermione.

Hermione's face was tear-stained and somber. "I know," she said.

They watched Harry for a moment. Harry's head was drooped.

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"You even have to ask?"

"That includes your mother, Ron."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Especially my mother, you moron."

Harry allowed himself to smile. It was his first that day.

---

He watched as the couple disapparated since Harry was out of floo powder. They didn't stay for long. Mainly because Harry didn't want them to. It was near lunchtime, and he didn't really have much appetite. He knew if they stayed Hermione would be force-feeding him.

Nevertheless, he felt a tiny bit better. He still had his best friends who had his back. Harry felt grateful that they called in sick too, though every time news like this came up, they all had to because if Harry didn't show up, the Prophet's target would easily aim at them.

Harry sighed. They were all chained together. He hated that he had to drag them down the muddy trail of unwanted fame and paparazzi craziness.

It was a good few hours past noon, the heat drifting away. Harry didn't bother to move from the fetal laying position on his couch. Even in the worst arguments with Ginny, nothing hurt worse than this. And Ginny could be extremely fierce.

He let a single teardrop dissolve into the mattress. It had merely been a week. A week. He was pining over someone he barely knew-

A fresh string of tears escaped him. Harry knew that wasn't true. Even if it had only been a week, he got a glimpse of what was under the veil of the obnoxious brat for seven years. And he longed for more.