𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟗𝟑 - 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐬

𝙃𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥, 𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙, 𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡.
Maybe he had been staring at the ceiling all night.
He looked up at the paint, seeing the individual paint strokes on the ceiling, she had been the one to pick the colour out.

It was a dark navy blue, like the night sky before the sun comes over the horizon.

He blinked away the next load of tears that began to fall, today they bury her.
His suit was hung up on the wardrobe, ironed and pressed by Mrs Weasley who had been the one to put it there the night before, alongside an untouched sandwich on his dresser.

He stepped into the shower, turning on the tap he let the water fall over his body, again feeling nothing at all, he couldn't enjoy the pressure of it or its warmth, he manually washed his hair and body like a chore, he felt like someone else was operating his body for him since his movements felt so unnatural and cold.

He wanted to curl up in his bed and disintegrate.

But he couldn't, he had to be there.

Once he was dressed, he went to the mirror and tried to flatten his damp hair, the comb in his hand was forgotten as he closed his eyes.

She ran her hands through it, roughing it up again.
"Oh don't make it neat, I like it like this."

"But I'm supposed to look presentable before the Yule Ball tomorrow."

"You're going with me aren't you? Not some Stepford wife?"

"Well yeah but-"

"Then leave it, you look perfectly fine the way you are, I think you'd look weird having a straight parting anyway." She smiled at him, pulling out a batch of warm brownies she had made in the kitchen not too long before.

Harry bowed his head, he could still feel the imprint that smile had on him, he hadn't felt it since, tossing the comb aggressively to the floor as there was a knock at the door, it opened to reveal James in a smart black three-piece suit, he too had bathed and made himself look smarter.

Stepping into the room, Harry turned to him, stuffing his wand inside his coat pocket he tried to tie his black tie, but failed miserably, James instead reached forward and began to tie it for him.

"You look great Harry."

Harry nodded, unable to look up from his shined and polished black shoes.
"She'd want you to smile Harry, she loved seeing you happy."

"I can't, she's not here." Harry responded hoarsely, he hadn't spoken properly in a few days, not since they got back from Kings Cross, the Weasley's had stopped by, to keep the house warm and familiar yet there was always one seat empty.

Not one person dared to fill it, yet Molly always put an empty plate there, Harry would look at it scornfully. He knew that plate should be piled high as she and Ron would have a competition on who could eat more.

Ron stayed with him in his room, on the single bed by the door, but Ron was also grieving too and took to staring at walls and pushing his food around on his plate, and he wanted to comfort Harry but Harry made it clear he wanted to be alone right now, Hermione on the other hand would burst out crying randomly, she was a walking talking minefield and Ron was careful to comfort her as best he could.

As they went downstairs, they waited in the living room with very few rumblings, the twins had even abandoned their usual bright colours and opted for the black, the only colour being in their socks.