iris | drarry

chapter 7

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The large clock in the room was the only thing keeping Harry grounded, his leg bouncing up and down as his finger tapped anxiously on his knee. He glanced around the room quickly, the office so familiar yet different, somehow. Fawkes's cage hung empty from the ceiling, and most of the paintings he had come to know had been rearranged or moved from the room. 

Dumbledore's office had always been a safe space for him, even though he was almost always there because of a bad reason. Dumbledore's presence had always soothed him, and even the messiness of his office had given him comfort. Now, the office was much more organized, papers stacked neatly on the desk or filed away in cabinets, not a speck of dust or out of place quill to be seen. 

The door behind him opened, Professor McGonagall strolling through, her face stern with a twinge of concern. Behind her, Malfoy followed, along with Hermione and Ron, all with a neutral expressions. This was surprising to Harry, as he knew they had all been out there talking amongst each other for quite some time, and he hadn't heard any shouting. 

McGonagall sat down in the large chair, Harry wincing softly as a flashback of Dumbledore doing the same thing flashed through his head. 

"Professor- If I could just-" he started, his voice shaking as he tried to plead his case. He stopped talking, however, as she held up a hand to silence him, closing her eyes for a moment. He shut his mouth, glancing over at Ron and Hermione, who had taken a seat next him, Malfoy on the opposite side of him. 

Hermione just gave him a pitying look, Ron still looking angry. He looked back at McGonagall as she started speaking. "Mr. Potter. It has come to my attention that since you have been released from the hospital wing, your actions have been... worrying."

Look what you did, you idiot.

She glanced between all of them, her eyes landing on Harry. "I have noticed this behavior as well, when you have bothered to show up to class. I will give you a chance to explain this," she said tersely, looking at him expectantly. 

Maybe they don't know. Just lie. Lie. Lie. 

He gulped a bit, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, professor, I- I'm not quite sure-" he stuttered. "I'm fine, just been uh- been a bit sick is all."

She seemed to sink a bit, glancing over at Malfoy, exchanging knowing looks between them. "Is that your final word, Mr. Potter?"

Malfoy. He knows. He told her. He told her, didn't he? What a fucking prick. Lie. Lie anyway. Don't admit weakness. Lie. 

Harry hesitated, then nodded. He couldn't bring himself to say the words, to tell them how much he was struggling, even in just this moment. 

"Well, alright then. I'll tell you what I know," McGonagall started, clearing her throat a bit and sitting up straight, crossing her fingers in front on her on the desk. "I know you had a panic attack when you were on the train here, and were given calming potions in the hospital wing to help them, as without them you would have more. I know you were extremely agitated when you were forcibly discharged from the hospital wing, and were told you couldn't have any more potions. I know you attempted to have Ms. Granger make more for you, then cut off both her and Mr. Weasley after she refused."

She looked over at Ron and Hermione, Harry following her gaze to find them both looking guiltily at him. 

Look what you did to them. You're a horrible friend. A horrible person. Their loved ones died for you. This is how you repay them?

"I know that you have been in bed all hours of the day, and look like a walking corpse the rest of it. You are irritable and easily agitated, and have been cutting off ties with all of your friends. And, most recently, when Mr. Malfoy decided to come to me with the situation," her eyes flicked to Malfoy then back to Harry. "I found you on the floor of the common room, high out of your mind."