The nightmares had gotten worse but Harry made sure to cast a charm around his bed every night to hide his whimpers.
He called in sick to both Quidditch training sessions that were held since his trip down memory lane. He had lost interest in everything really. He was back to not eating and even after a week he could see his ribs in the mirror and he berated himself about how disgusting he looked but still did not have any will to eat a morsel.
He didn't care that everyone was beginning to notice how sleepy he was in class. He didn't care that Draco and Ron had already caught him from falling twice while he walked down the stairs from the dorms to the common room. He didn't care that he was waiting in McGonagall's office for her to dissect him and tell him what to do. He didn't care.
"Potter?"
"Yes?"
"Mr's Malfoy and Weasley and well and Miss's Granger and Weasley, as well as a number of other students, have informed me of your current state. We're worried about you."
"I'm sorry," Harry couldn't meet the headmistress' eye.
"This is nothing to be sorry about, I understand that your accident opened wounds that were not yet fully healed and all that progress we've made has been wiped away."
She could be in an important meeting right now but here you are taking up her time with your stupid problems.
"Potter, I have no choice but to present you with options and you have to choose one of them," McGonagall sighed, twirling her wand between her fingers. "You can either help me to help you in aiding your recovery. You are an adult now and I can not force you to do anything, I can only advise."
"And what's the other option?"
"You don't help me and I am forced to organise daily meetings with Madame Pomfrey where she can reveal exactly what you've eaten that day and the revoking of your captaincy over the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
Harry squirmed uncomfortably. "The first one."
"Good. Now, how do you think I can help you?"
"I don't know," Harry shrugged.
"Sit up straight. Mr Potter, I strongly advise you start thinking."
"Let me play Quidditch, that's all I ask," Harry adjusted his position on McGonagall's orders. "And I guess Ron, Hermione and Draco can help me."
"Thank you, Potter. I'll see you again this time next week and no sooner I hope."
"You're here!" Ron beamed as Harry made his way onto the Quidditch pitch for training. Yesterday morning was his meeting with McGonagall and that morning at breakfast both Ron and Hermione were watching him closely.
"Well, captaincy isn't an excuse for laziness," Harry forced a smile, Hermione said that forcing a smile will help you feel more positive. Something about chemicals.
"That's good because loverboy came to watch," Ron winked at Harry and pointed up to the stands where Draco indeed sat next to Hermione doing school work presumably.
"He's not my lover boy," Harry frowned, not looking away from him.
"Okay mate," Ron laughed. "Focus."
That was easier said than done, however. The fast motion of kicking himself off the ground and into the air made Harry extremely dizzy. He took a second to regain his composure.
"Coote, Peakes, you're with me. Us three versus the chasers, whichever team gets the goals past Ron gets, I don't know, a chocolate frog each," Harry called out. Just a simple drill for today while he didn't feel quite right.
The darting around after the quaffle did not help. He found himself having to pause quite a lot, claiming he was watching the other players for a moment.
"Harry!" Coote yelled as he passed the ball to him. Harry's reflexes did not respond and the ball hit him square in the face.
He had not been holding onto his broom and felt himself topple backward, unable to hinder his fall.
Here we are again.
Harry didn't have to open his eyes to know where he was. The uncomfortable bed, whispering voices.
He sat up slowly, he didn't feel hurt, he hadn't even been placed under the covers.
"Harry James Potter, you stupid idiot!" Having Professor McGonagall use his full name as well as call him a stupid idiot definitely made his list of top ten most terrifying experiences. "And a day after our meeting at that!"
Harry hung his head and didn't bother replying. There was some truth in her words.
"You need to stop this reckless behaviour right now! You could have been hurt if it weren't for Miss Weasley's expert flying. She caught you out of mid-air by the way. Potter, I will not allow you to compete in the upcoming Quidditch match unless you gain back the weight you have lost."
"What?!" Harry cried.
"No, this is for your own safety Potter," said McGonagall firmly, she picked a package off the table next to his bed and gave it to him. "While you were unconscious you missed dinner. You can return to your dorm when you've finished it. Goodnight, Potter."
And with that McGonagall left Harry alone with a buttered bread roll with a few pieces of chicken inside as well as a banana.
A gourmet meal.
The common room doors swung open and Harry began his way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
"Potter." Harry stopped in his tracks and saw Draco get up out of one of the many armchairs.
"You waited up for me?" Harry felt a little relieved that he did, Ron or Hermione would have berated him as soon as he entered the room. "I supposed you're going to tell me off for avoiding you again."
"Of course not," Draco cautiously wrapped his fingers around Harry's hands. "I can imagine the sort of stuff that has been on your mind the past week, plus, my declaration of my love to you was a tad dramatic."
"So you didn't mean it?" Harry nodded, pulling away from Draco and heading the bathroom to get ready for bed.
"No, no, no," Draco grabbed Harry again, making sure he was listening to him. "I meant every word, I just can't imagine that it helped you in any way." He guided Harry over to a two-seater couch and motioned for him to sit with him.
Harry fell into the seat next to Draco. Harry was sure that something Madame Pomfrey gave him was messing with his head because Draco reached over and slowly threaded his fingers through his own. He looked down at the phenomenon that was resting on his thigh with wild eyes.
"Try not to look so disgusted, Potter," Draco laughed.
"No, I just never thought," Harry trailed off. He wiggles his fingers a little in Malfoy's hold. "Do you moisturize?"
"I can tell you don't," Draco rolled his eyes. Silence fell between them and Draco took a calming breath and laid his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry smiled a little. "What did McGonagall say when you woke up?"
"More like shouted," Harry corrected. "She says I can't play Quidditch unless I gain some weight."
"You have to understand, that's probably for the best," Draco's voice was very quiet. He yawned. "It's for your safety, after what I saw yesterday it was probably everyone else's too. You dropped like a stone."
"Thanks," Harry muttered. "It's just, nobody understands. I have caused so much pain for not just myself but so many other people. I gave up after the war, I really did. It's like, my brain couldn't function."
"Harry." The use of Harry's first name in Draco's tongue made his heart skip a beat. "You seem to forget who you're talking to," he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm. "I've hurt so many people, and I hurt myself because of it. Everyone grieves in different ways. As much as I hate to admit it, you and I are very similar."
Harry nodded slowly. "But why do I feel like this. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the food thing. It's not like I don't want to eat, it's that I can't."
"Your whole life has been traumatic, now that all of that has stopped its, how can I explain it? It's like you've been playing an intense game of Quidditch, yes it hurts when you get a bludger to the arm, yes you're out of breath, yes your hands are raw from gripping your broom but the pain sets in when your feet hit the ground doesn't it. That's the adrenaline wearing off. Your whole life you have been running on adrenaline and now that you've stopped, it's all catching up to you."
Harry couldn't find any words. He lay his cheek atop Draco's head delicately.
"I think you need a break. We're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow, come with me."
"Okay," Harry replied.
"Can I ask you something?" Draco asked.
"Sure."
"Did you tell anyone? About our kiss that is."
"No," said Harry. "Can we talk about you now?"
"I love talking about me," Draco chuckled.
"How did you know you were gay?"
"Well, I was thirteen and like a lot of thirteen-year-old boys I was, starting to realise things about myself," Draco sighed. "While the rest of my dorm was discussing the women of our year, I was less than interested. It was around February when I found my first, to put it simply, crush."
"Who was it?" Harry asked.
Draco let out a high laugh. "I'm not telling you for anything."
"That's not fair!" Protested Harry.
"Shhh!" Draco scolded. "You're gonna wake people up."
"Then maybe we should go to bed," Harry suggested.
"Okay, but you need to shower," Draco shoved Harry off him and stood up, offering his hands for Harry to pull himself up. They both walked in the direction of the eighth year bathrooms.
"Hey, you're not watching me shower, pervert!"
"I'll be outside the door," Draco assured. Harry turned the handle and went inside before poking his head back out again.
"You called me Harry," he said.
"Yeah? And no one will ever believe you, Potter," Draco teased.
Harry sat down for breakfast in the Great Hall next to Ron.
"I don't want to lecture you, but McGonagall promised me that she'd make my life hell if I didn't," he said.
"I know," Harry huffed. He leant over to grab some toast but as soon as he picked it up it disappeared from his hands. He frowned. He tried to grab an apple from the fruit basket but that too vanished from his grasp.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione tried a supportive smile. "McGonagall mention something like this might happen."
"What is going on?" Harry was deeply confused. Everyone was forcing him to eat but yet he wasn't allowed to.
"We've just got to find it," Hermione mumbled to herself. "Ron, could you put a pause on your bacon and help me?"
"What are you looking for?" Harry rested his forehead in his hands on the table. It was really too early for this.
"This!" Ron exclaimed. Harry glanced up, it was a wooden box. "Sit up."
Harry pulled himself off the table and Ron triumphantly placed it in front of him.
For Harry Potter was engraved in beautiful cursive writing on the top. Harry lifted the lid back and saw a perfectly balanced meal laid out inside.
"She said she didn't want to treat you like a child," Hermione rested a hand on his forearm. "But you gave her no choice."
Harry groaned and reached his fingers into the box. This time the toast didn't disappear from his fingertips.
He looked up to the staff table where Professor McGonagall was already staring back at him, looking quite pleased with herself.
"On the bright side Harry, we're going to Hogsmeade today, she can't curse all the food in a town can she?" Ron tries to cheer him up. "We can go to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks and-"
"Actually, Malfoy asked me if I wanted to go with him," Harry said guiltily.
"Like a date?" Asked Hermione excitedly, still making sure to keep her voice low.
"I didn't think about it like that," Harry pondered this for a minute. Did Draco really ask him out o a date?
"Wait, so Malfoy has gay feelings for you as well?" Ron whispered, his voice sounded thoroughly terrified.
"He made that quite clear," Harry smiled to himself.
"Did he? Wait, I don't want to know," Ron shook his head. "But just know that I'm still annoyed you're ditching us for him."
"Well, think of it this way; you two get to hang out together without your favourite third wheel hindering you," Harry smiled sweetly at Ron who seemed to consider his statement before nodding.
"Fine. Speak of the devil," He tapped Harry on the shoulder and pointed behind him.