CHAPTER 62 - HARRY'S LAST FIGHT

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TW: PTSD; anorexia; suicidal ideation

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You can't control him. Manage yourself, manage your reactions.

He tried his best, he really did, to control his emotions. Every time he saw Draco in the halls, it was a different reaction every time. At one point, Draco nodded at him, another, he sneered. The worst was when he saw him, and their eyes met, but Draco didn't see him. As if he was just another person whom he'd never met or cared about.

It ripped him to shreds, and Harry thought to himself, am I balancing out Karma? Because Draco was tortured so much and so brutally because of his love for Harry, maybe it was fair for him to have to go through this. 

But, even in his demented, disordered state, that sounded strange and wrong and why does he have to go through this?

He had a small shred of hope for Dr. Valerie, but that would take more time than Harry was patient for.

Meanwhile, Harry was tempted to just fucking tell Draco. In fact, one day after class, Harry tried to flag him down, but at that moment, Draco only remembered the bad things, told him to fuck off, and rushed away.

His brain is deteriorating and he doesn't even know it.

Manage yourself, manage your emotions.

But how the fuck could Harry? When your family is hurt, nothing matters, you're stuck in a sickening, freezing anxiety. No advice anyone can break the wall of fear that is consuming you.

He did his best to keep his mind off of it for the sake of his own relief. According to Dr. Valerie, the body isn't meant to stay in such a prolonged state, and Harry wanted to say, well, no shit.

But she did convince him to give himself permission to take a break from that feeling. That it was okay if he didn't feel that way all the time, and that he shouldn't feel guilty for bringing other things to his attention and letting grief rest.

It took a bit to get used to, but he started to get the hang of it. He even let himself be excited about their Hogsmeade trip the next weekend, looking forward to enjoying something so small like their Halloween decorations.

The night before it, Ron turned to him.

"Mate, I need your help, but we need to distract Hermione. I have an engagement ring that I need to pick up."

Harry smiled and ignored the pang in his chest and memory of Draco proposing to him in Sixth Year; the split second before he saw his Dark Mark and believed that Draco wanted him forever. "That's awesome."

"It's just... I know we've been dating for only nine months but--"

"Nine months? The war was in May?"

Ron blushed. "Well we... we kind of started dating after I came back during our fight..." Harry smirked. "We're sorry we didn't tell you, but we know how stressed you were about the Horcruxes, and we didn't want it to go too far either so we just... We kissed one time and the rest was talking. I feel so bad for not telling you."

"Coming from someone who hid their relationship from you for over three years, trust me, I get it. Really, no hard feelings. All that matters is that we made it out of the war. It's cruel you two couldn't have dated like normal teenagers, you know." Harry patted his shoulder. 

 Ron shared a warm smile with him. "I don't want to rush or pressure her or anything, but I've known her for eight years now. And maybe it's the grief taking, because I'm no where near healed from Fred, but it just feels really right. We work well together, you know?"

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