Faith .|. H. J. POTTER ✔

Chapter eighty-one

Dumbledore's office had been repaired since the last time Faith and Harry saw it. The table was back in its place and the silver instruments on them were back as if they had never been broken.

Faith did feel broken. She felt the same empty hole in her chest as she had felt the day Cedric passed. It felt horrible, it was gut-wrenching. But seeing the others around her break down was much worse than how she felt herself. 

She remembered how her father had screamed for Cedric to come back, screamed his name over and over again. And that night, she had heard Harry scream. Scream for Sirius to come back from behind the veil where he thought he'd be hiding. Faith would always remember those screams because now she was convinced that death happens to the people around them, not to those who lost their lives. Because people live in others. 

Faith's body ached all over. She wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep. Wake up from the nightmare. She eyed Harry who stood by Dumbledore's desk. She had never seen him like this, so broken. 

Faith quickly walked over to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. He looked back at her. She wanted to tell him it was going to be OK, but she didn't know when it was going to be OK, or if it was even going to be OK someday. 

She didn't need to say anything, though. Harry nodded at her as if he understood what she thought and Faith wasted no more seconds before slowly wrapping her arms around him. He let himself get engulfed in her embrace because he knew he needed it, as did she. The warmth of each other's bodies comforted them, it was unexplainable but after everything that had happened that night, this embrace might just be the closest they'd get to peace and safety. It was like they were refugees in the other's presence, wanting to be saved and feel safe again. 

A noise from one of the portraits made them aware that they were in Dumbledore's office and not in some painless-land of comfort and peace. 

"Ah ... Harry Potter ..." Phineas Nigellus yawned loudly, as he examined the two students. "And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning? This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful Headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? What happened to your faces? It's all bloodied and stuff ..." Phineas asked but the two didn't answer, they just wanted to stay in each other's arms. "Oh, don't tell me ... Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"

Faith sighed and let go of Harry's waist for a second to pick up an ink bottle. She threw it up once and then sent it flying at the portrait. A splatter of ink covered the middle of Phineas Nigulles portrait, Phineas sat just high enough to still be able to see. 

"Hey!" Phineas yelled but Faith had already buried her head in Harry's neck again so she didn't answer. 

They just wanted to stay like that for a while. Together. And they did, for about thirty minutes before they heard the fire light up. They turned just in time to see Dumbledore appear amidst the green flames. He walked out of it and put the small, featherless Fawkes in the tray of grey ashes. 

"Well, Harry, Faith," Dumbledore said, "you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events,"

No words came from their throats, they were too tired and felt too guilty.

"Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up and I think it is a wise idea to sent you there too, Miss Diggory," Dumbledore continued. "You have a great deal of injuries that Madam Pomfrey can heal for you, after which you can return here so I can explain something to the two of you. Something I should've told long ago,"

Faith looked at Harry. She didn't want to leave his side yet. Not after all that happened and how she knew he was feeling. Harry had the same injuries as her, the cuts to their faces, the long one Bellatrix made, and a lasting headache. Why didn't he have to see Madam Pomfrey?