Broken, But in Love.

A lost locket

Harry groans as Ron shakes him awake on a Saturday morning, telling him to get ready for Quidditch practice. He didn't want to go. He couldn't be bothered, and it was cold.

"Get up, Harry!" Ron says loudly. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

"Leave me alone," Harry mumbles, snuggling further under his bed sheets into the nice snug warmth. "Let me drown in my misery. Or at least sleep it away."

Ron frowned when hearing that. He had no idea Harry felt like that this morning. He sat by Harry's legs and sighed, intertwining his hands together over his lap. "What would you like, mate?" he asks gently, thinking of things his best friend would like when in this state. "Anything from the Kitchens? Or maybe Draco?"

Harry shook his head and hid his eyes under his blankets. But then he hesitated and slowly sat up. "Maybe one thing," he says, opening his arms up, and Ron smiled and gradually hugged him. They stayed in each other's arms for a minute more, and then Ron leaned away and patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Come on, mate," Ron says, his head slightly tilting to the side, hopeful that the hug made Harry's day a bit better. "We need you. And I believe Draco will be there to watch you too."

"Oh, alright," Harry says, agreeing with Ron only because Draco would be there and because he didn't want to disappoint Ron or anyone on the Team. He let out a long yawn. "I'll get ready. Get me some toast, please? With jam, any kind."

"Yes sir," said Ron with an amused chuckle, and he gave him a low bow. He was hoping he could make Harry feel better with some humour. "Your toast will be ready soon, monsieur. Would you like it on a silver or golden platter?"

Harry snorted at Ron's fake french butler act. "Neither, just go," he says tiredly, flicking his hand in Ron's direction as if to shoo an annoying fly away. "I'll be out soon."

Ron bowed down again. "Of course, monsieur," he says with that fake french accent that he had learnt from Fleur.

Harry grabbed his pillow and threw it at Ron, who laughed and ran out of the dormitory. He lies back down on his bed and stretches out. All he wants to do is stay in bed and hope to fall asleep again, but he's got Quidditch practice soon, but it just feels like work to him, like everything else.

He eventually managed to get up out of bed, get dressed in his Quidditch robes, grabbed his broom from under his bed, and headed down to the common room. He was met by Ron who had stuffed into his hands a plate of toast layered with strawberry jam, and Harry thanked him and ate his breakfast as quickly as he could. Then with Ron, he headed down to the pitch with his broom over his shoulder.

Harry yawns again, and Ron notices it. "Mate, did you get enough sleep last night?" he asks curiously, though he sounded more worried as he knows Harry could fall asleep on his broom and not see a bludger coming his way on the Pitch. "When did you fall asleep?"

"Got a few hours of sleep," Harry answers him, looking over at the stands for Draco but didn't see a familiar head of white-blonde hair. Dam... "Around three or four hours, to be precise. Tried sleeping the same time as you, but I don't think I actually fell asleep until around one or two am this morning."

"Harry, why didn't you wake me up and tell me you couldn't sleep?" Ron had asked at once, a little shocked to hear this. "George had come out with some Sleeping Snickers with Fred a while back, but ever since Fred...passed, he forgot about it until a few months ago. They work really well too."

"Sleeping Snickers?" Harry said, thinking of the Snickers bars found in muggle supermarkets and convenience stores. He's never really had chocolate before until he started going to Hogwarts, besides the rare little few that Dudley would give him if he didn't like the chocolate he got.