Refilled

Christmas Day, 1996

Perfectly formed snowflakes fell to the grass of the Hogwarts grounds. At Hogwarts, every single last snowflake was the same, and the snowfall was always the most beautiful on Christmas. The view from the Gryffindor common room was fantastic; the lovely evergreens with their tips frosted with snow, the frost on the lake, how you could see the shadow of the giant squid moving beneath it, even the Forbidden Forrest looked like an inviting winter wonderland. Hagrid's hut was picturesque and cozy, the lights from his windows visible, smoke was pouring from the chimney. Hogwarts truly led a charmed, quaint life.

Every single Gryffindor that had stayed for the holidays, (Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Dean, Seamus, some odd assortment of younger students and seventh years Harry had no desire to learn the names of) was crowding up against the giant window to try to catch a glimpse of the Christmas splendor. In fact, they were all glowing, cheeks pink and eyes bright, caught up in the spirit of the holiday. All of them except for Harry.

How could he be fucking happy, even if it was Christmas? Sirius was dead. There'd be no letter from him, no gifts. No nothing. Why? Because he was dead, that's why. Gone. Didn't anyone else care?

"Hey, Harry, you ought have a look at this! There's two people having a terrific snowball fight!" Ron yelled excitedly pointing and laughing when one of them apparently took quite a hit.

He shook his head. How could a snowball fight ever be more important than Sirius?

"Is something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, turning away from, by all the amused shouting, a great throw.

Is there something wrong? How could she ever ask that? He shook his head once more.

"Please, talk to us. It's Christmas. Don't make us worry anymore," she implored, looking the little child who wanted to got to the circus but couldn't.

He glared. Using his wand he wrote 'Fine. I wont obligate you any longer' in the air and stalked away, Hermione staring helplessly after him.

God, why couldn't they understand? Besides Lupin, Sirius had been all he had, and for all he knew, Lupin wasn't holding on very well. Then again, he couldn't say anything against Lupin, considering the fact that as soon as he had been released from the Dursely's to the Order of the Phoenix Head Quarters, he, quite literally, couldn't say anything.

That house just had too many memories. It smelled of Sirius, Black hairs from Snuffles were often found on pillows and all of his things were still in that room. Every room, every corner he turned held a fond, painful memory.

Sometimes, he was glad he could just walk away from the questions people asked; simply implying that he had not heard or did not have an answer. He was an exceptional liar, and this was no special case. He had a silent answer for every fucking question he'd been asked this year.

Are you okay? What's wrong? Why are you being like this? Lighten up, will you? Please, why are you not talking to us?

They might claim to be his best friends...but it did not seem like they knew anything. He could not give them the answers they wanted to hear. How could he? He could not answer these things for himself, let alone anyone else.

***

Hermione and Ron gave him those worried looks that he utterly could not stand.

"Where'd you go last night?" they asked, holding hands and looking ever so worried.

If he had had a knife, he would have cut both their throats in a heartbeat.

He shrugged, turning back to his breakfast, which did not seem appetizing anymore. Then again, nothing really did these days. He ate only to sustain life and often wondered why he would not let himself die.

It'd be so easy...God, why do people die so easily? Shouldn't human life be a little harder to lose?

He pushed the eggs, toast and tea away, walking away from the Gryffindors with no explanation. They sighed heavily, used to this moodiness but not liking it all the same. Their concerns were easily forgotten when yet another Gryffindor food fight broke out.

Life was just too fun to sit around moping because Harry was moping. If he couldn't see that....then Christmas joy surely awaited them away from his gloom.

From a staircase that overlooked the Great Hall, Harry watched Hermione's shocked face as she was hit by a fried egg and almost smiled when she slid under the table in a huff to hide. Turning his attention to the other side of the room, he noticed Draco Malfoy staring out the window, seemingly frozen. Of course, he'd always noticed him as an enemy...but now he noticed that Malfoy wasn't sneering or cruel looking...in fact, he looked rather miserable. Harry understood the feeling all too well. Harry found it sickening that he could identify with Malfoy more than with his best friend. Head in his hands, he turned away and wept bitterly.