More Than Existence

More Than Existence

I worry about him. He says he's all right, but I know he's not. I can't help but to feel scared for him.

After Sirius died, things just went downhill. He stopped eating, his temper became horrid, and from what Ron tells me, he doesn't sleep. And when he does, he cries out from the nightmares that haunt him.

He would yell and scream at people over the smallest things. He would throw and break items, when all seemed fine, but apparently to him, wasn't. He would make everyone around him always feel as if they've done something wrong, as if they should feel guilty for him being unhappy.

For a while, that was the worst of it, but then it became even more so.

He has withdrawn from everyone. Even from Ron and myself. He hardly speaks to anybody. He's getting failing marks in school. Even in subjects that he once excelled in. Now, none of it matters to him.

He has completely dropped quidditch. Quidditch used to mean so much to him, but now...now I can't even remember the last time that I've seen him touch a broom. His Firebolt sits under his bed untouched and unwanted, collecting dust.

He doesn't come with us to Hogsmeade anymore. While we go out, he stays in the common room. He just sits in his chair by the fireplace and stares into the flames. When we greet him upon our return, it's as if he doesn't hear us. He retreats into his own world.

Now that I think about it, I believe that it wasn't after Sirius died that he stopped talking. It was shortly after his defeat of Lord Voldemort that his condition went from bad to worse. He no longer cared about anything.

Last spring he vanished for a week. When he came back, news had spread fast that Voldemort was finally gone, all thanks to Harry. When he was questioned as to how he did it, his eyes would glaze over and he would get this distant expression on his face. Eventually we all learned it was best to never mention it.

I must say that it hurts. To not even be acknowledged by one of my best friends. We used to talk and laugh. I miss those days. When we were still young and innocent. Nothing but naive children. Those days are long gone.

It's been two years since Sirius was murdered. It's been that long since I've seen Harry laugh and just be carefree. Well, as carefree as he ever could be. After that, there was just tears. Even that didn't last. I haven't seen him cry in about a year and a half. It's almost as if he just shut down. Like he had become a robot, void of emotion and unable to feel.

I think I would actually feel better if I just saw him cry or yell. It would assure me that he still feels. That somewhere in there, Harry is still there. But he's not.

He just lost his will to live.

And I wish more than anything, that he doesn't gain the will to die.

I'm hoping that if Ron and myself don't give up on him, then he wont give up on us. That eventually he will see that there's more to life than just existence.

And maybe, just maybe...

I'll get my best friend back.