Through Shadows Falling

Through Shadows Falling

You are scolding yourself. How could you say something that insensitive, that rude? Your best friend had been looking for help, and you failed him. How could you lose your grip on you that completely, a grip you have been proud of maintaining no matter the circumstances? And realising that you've been misjudging the level of your self-control, that all this unexpected spite and anger, caused by incidents so long ago, could flare up inside you like that, like a cork finally popping from a shaken bottle - realising this hurts and worries and frightens you even more than having let down your oldest friend. And you're ashamed of that, too.

***

Harry was raging, blaming himself, was devastated: the full set of emotions, as usual. "He left me! He simply grabbed his suitcase, threw some things into it - he didn't even bother to shrink them, he-" Really, you could write a book on it by now.

"Harry," you said, always the voice of reason. "He will come back. You know him, you've been through this many ti- oh, come on, calm down, no need to- He's just throwing a tantrum." Spoilt little brat that he still is, always will be, you refrained from adding.

It hadn't been of any consolation to Harry. He insisted on the this-time-it's-different argument; as if he didn't use it any time this git decided to- you had to muster all your inner strength to interrupt this train of thoughts. No use telling Harry that the one he had decided to cling to would never change, that, if he were honest, he wouldn't even want him to change. No use telling him that he might - if he really were that unhappy - consider trying to see someone else: it wasn't for the lack of other choices that he had been staying with Draco Malfoy of all people for almost three years now.

"But I am happy," he had protested every time you had suggested this so far, during one of the rather frequent occasions, "and I don't want him to change. It's only- why does he have to be so demanding, so complex, so-"

"Harry." You knew that he once again wouldn't listen, yet your rational mind was not being so easily distracted. "You're not the easiest person to live with, either, you do know that? Maybe the two of you- have you ever considered-" The sadness in his eyes when he nodded silently almost broke your heart, but hesitatingly, you proceeded in this vein. "He's so very different, only consider his background, I don't think he will ever-". But it was already one step to far.

"You don't understand him, you never really liked him," Harry retorted, casting you a reproachful glare, and at this point, you felt the familiar urge to shout at him... because he keeps looking down on me, treats me no different than he has done back in school, because he behaves as if the world were revolving around him, because he thinks you've got to be grateful that he even looks at you, and he will expect you to simply accept his inescapable return, no explanation granted, no apology, of course not.

"Harry-"

"You don't know him as I do - there's more to him than meets the eye," and Harry began to rattle off all those old stories again, about how brave Malfoy had been during the war, how much he had risked, that his true loyalty was not to be doubted, that he had left behind all that had been dear to him just to be with him, how unable he was of showing his true feelings; all of what Harry so obviously wants to believe, and what you can't. You try, really, you do, but you can't.

But telling him that wasn't the appropriate thing to do. Sighing, you gave him the pep-up talk he was waiting for, and it worked, as it always did.

And then - it was almost over, Harry had calmed down and was already looking forward to welcoming Malfoy back, this unassertive smile playing around his lips which never failed to make your heart ache, and your wit rebel. But all he needed, wanted now was a little bit of reassurance, and you were willing to-

"He once said that he can't fall asleep without a kiss from me," Harry whispered, a slightly wistful yet longing tone to his voice, eyes still brimming with tears but already shining with hope...

***

You shiver and pull the blanket over your shoulders. Time to go to sleep, you think, encouraging yourself to get up from the armchair you've been sitting in for the entire evening. It's going to be a busy day tomorrow, you tell yourself, you need your sleep. Harry'll be okay, and he'll forgive you your shouting. Go to bed.

Arming yourself against the wave of emotion which seems to hit you with growing force every time you enter your bedroom, you finally rise from your chair. What a terrible evening...

Go to sleep now.

..."How dare you sit here and whine and tell me - me! - what a mess your life is? Simply because this little shit has left you - again? He will come back, he will... because he can!"...

Sleep...

"Oh, Ron," you whisper, pressing your hot cheek against the cool frame of his photo, the last one. "Help me to rest, I can't, can't-"