It's OK Not To Be OK (But I Promise, I'm Trying)

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: not mine

Ginny folded up the letter she had received from Harry, thinking hard. So much had changed recently, and it all seemed to stem from one particular instant: her decision to walk back up to Gryffindor tower with Harry before leaving Hogwarts. Making that effort had shown her the boy behind the hero, and she was so thankful she had made it.

She hated to remember her actions from the summer before her first year, when she couldn't even be in the same room as him, and she was very sorry that she had gone two years without really ever speaking to the older boy. Harry was a great guy, and she felt so much sorrow for the hand life had dealt him. Reading his latest letter sent threads of alarm and fear coursing through her.Hasn't broken anything. As all right as I can be. Those were not the words of someone enjoying their holiday. She hoped McGonagall was really working on helping him. It sounded like he needed it.

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Darkness.

That was the first thing Harry noticed when he came around. That didn't mean much to him, since it had been evening when he had lost consciousness.

Groaning as he turned his head to the side, Harry tried to find some indicator of the time or day. Nothing was readily visible from his place on the floor, but he did notice that his door was still broken; the door was shut haphazardly, but the broken locks had splintered the frame. That would be useful, if he could manage to get himself up.

He had promised Ginny that he would get out if things got worse, and this definitely counted. Harry hadn't lost consciousness in a beating since he was nine years old, and he had forgotten how much he hated it. Especially waking up and not knowing how much time he had lost.

The house was silent, indicating the time to be in the very late evening, or perhaps early morning. Harry steeled himself, taking a deep breath and holding it as he prepared to try and stand up.

He made it into a sitting position, though it took a few minutes. His left wrist appeared to be at least fractured, perhaps broken. His left shoulder was aching horribly, and he felt that might have been the snap he had heard from his collarbone. His chest was throbbing, from at least one broken rib, and his head was pounding, the room going in and out of focus as he caught his breath.

Harry knew he needed to leave, but he wasn't sure how he would be able to carry his trunk.

Using his uninjured right arm, Harry carefully pulled himself up to a standing position, using the bed for support. The only things he had in his room that he wanted were his wand and his Arithmancy and Ancient Runes books. He grabbed the wand from its location under his pillow, and glanced around to find the books. They were sitting on his dresser, next to a hairpin, given to him by the Weasley twins with a wink and a grin last year, and his repaired alarm clock, showing the time to be shortly after two o'clock in the morning.

Harry grabbed the books, and the hairpin to use on the lock on the cupboard, and, as quietly as he was able, made his way out of the room.

The stairs were an unpleasant experience, and he had to stop every few steps, just to keep from crying out in pain.

Eventually, he made it to the ground floor, and paused for a few minutes, listening for any sign that the Dursleys had awoken.

The house was silent, fortunately, and Harry wasted no more time in picking the lock on the cupboard that used to be his bedroom. He quietly opened his trunk and placed his books on top of the rather messy pile, before closing the lid once more. He looked at Hedwig's cage for a moment, before deciding that he really couldn't carry it and his trunk, considering he only really had one good hand. He was just glad that she was still out hunting or delivering letters, so he didn't have to worry about freeing her from this prison as well.