In Your Mind's Eye.

Chapter Thirteen.

(Disclaimer: this story and its characters belong to J.K.Rowling.)

Song: Fairytale of New York by The Pogues.

MANY ANNOUNCEMENTS.

FIRSTLY, I knowww, it's nearer to Halloween than Christmas right now, but if I was going to post according to literal festivities, you'd all have to wait a while!

SECONDLY, can I quicklyyyy adress some of the comments directed to Ronald Weasley's seemingly 'rude' character... I didn't mean to make him seem too much of an asshole! I love Ron! But war changes people. It's natural for him to be angry, he's lost so many people. Just like Harry. Ron as I wrote him, shows his grief in a different way however.

THIRDLY, ahhhhhh 9k I'm dying and I don't deserve it. Thank.

FOURTHLY:

Special thanks to redvelvetrocker and WeAllShipIt14 for being such awesome readers, and commenting so much.

Anddd to AlexWhatever because you keep giving me inspiration. Here have some flowers: ❀ ✿ ❁ ✾ ✽ ❃ ❋

I would go on with a long list about all the people who've been reading and commenting and liking it, but we'd be here for quite a bit. So, you're all awesome, and I do read every single thing you say, and giggle and smile a lot like a loser.

WOW SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG. THE STORY IS COMING, AND TO MAKE UP FOR LONG INTRO, IT IS A BIT MORE THAN USUAL.

- R xx

Harry definitely didn't feel any Christmas vibes. He felt tired, he felt hollow- and he definitely wasn't in the mood for celebration. More than anything, he wanted to curl up, and rest for the next twelve days until the next Hogwarts term.

It was only the noise downstairs that dragged him out of bed. His throat felt scratchy and sore, most likely from when he emptied his stomach into the toilet last night- after Malfoy had left. Harry was doing his best not to feel embarrassed about his encounter with him last night. Malfoy was the last person possible he would have wanted seeing him in a nightmare.

"Do you always get up this early?" Harry muttered as he trudged into the kitchen, eyeing the blonde haired boy distastefully as he sat at a counter. "It's fucking unnatural."

"It's not early." Malfoy said flatly, not looking up as he prodded his toast in a dispirited fashion, "It's nearly midday, actually."

"So, what?" Harry mumbled, but fell silent quickly, realising that they were bickering, and instead turned out of the kitchen, and walked into the front room.

After slamming the door pointedly behind him, he rested his elbows on the small window, and watched the street in silence. The glass was frosted over, jarring the sparkling Christmas lights that hung from the trees outside until they were blurs of colour. The day felt heavy with the promise of snow, as if everyone was just waiting with baited breath for the first white speck to drift down from the heavens.

Despite the festivities, Harry felt nothing.

He wondered which part of him he had lost in order for him not to enjoy this. When had he lost all this happiness, when had he got so...empty? Nothing was inside him anymore.

I told you, whispered Voldermort in his mind's ear, you lost everything when you destroyed me. Your soul will eventually became part of mine, just as it's supposed to be. You are full of evil, full of poison.