ronandhermione.

narissashakesherheadfirmly.“no,butitakeityou’veseenadementorbefore?”

harrydoesn’tknowyetifhelikesthatparallel.

harryvisitsthem.

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harryreallswhatitfeelslike.thesinkingfeelingofdreadanddeath,allthewarmthseepingoutfromhisfiips,asifthebloodinhisveinsisslowlyturningtoie.heholdshisbreath,saredtoask.“didthey…”

himand…

hesuumbstosleepbeforeheanfinishverbalizingthatthought.

“heomesandgoes,”narissasayssoftlyfrombesidehim.hergazetowardshersonissad.“it’sepisodi.thehealerssayit’saformofdisassoiation,hismind’swayofgettingthroughthetraumaofazkabanandbeingsonearthedementors.”

thing’smissingwhenshe’snothere.theybothwanttoseeher,butharryknowsthatronwantsthatinawaythat’sdifferent.

after,whenharry’sbakinbedandron’sgoneandkreaher’sleanedalltheptes,harrythinkstohimselfthatmaybewhyronisn’tangryathimforbusyinghimselfwithmalfoysomuhisbeauseheuandswhatit’slikeforallyourthoughtsandattentiontobeonsumedbyoneperson.

malfoy’sgazeisbnkagain,andharryexpetedthat,butthatstilldoesn’tstopthewellofdisappoiinthepitofhisstomah.

it’sbeenthreemonthssheendofthewar,sinewhateverhappenedbetweenronandhermionehappened,butit’sthefirsttimeharryhasasked,mainlybeauseitdidn’tseemtherighttimethentotalkaboutsuhthingswhenfred’sdeadandremus’deadandtheyhadtoarrangeallthosefunerals.

“thenyouknowwhatitfeelslike.andtog

wasalmostkissedbyone,harrythinks,butkeepsittohimself.“yes,ihave.”

heknowsthatsomethinghappenedduring…well,during,andthat’swhattheytalkaboutwhileeatingmolly’sroastbeefandmashedpotatoes.