021.

Friends

“You know he loved you very much, right?”

Harry clutched a pillow against his chest harder, pushing back the tears (screams, despair, anger) that threatened to burst out. “Yes, Remus, I know.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself. There was nothing you could do.”

‘If I hadn’t been so hurt when he called me James, I would’ve seen Bellatrix’s attack and I could’ve warned him.’ Harry bit off the last remaining fingernail on his left hand. “I know.”

He was in the attic now, away from the pitying looks and he statements of sympathy. Harry knew they were worried about him. Whether it was worry that he would harm himself in his grief or worry that he would go off the deep end and kill everyone else he had yet to figure out. He supposed it was a little of both.

Ron and Hermione were the least wary of him, but the growing interest between the two of them kept them busy elsewhere. Harry didn’t mind the solitude and encouraged their relationship.

Dust floated around him, clinging to his skin. The smell of a large bird, long gone know, stuck in his nose. Buckbeak had been moved somewhere else when Siriusdied. Dumbledore had moved him into Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for the summer and Harry wasn’t happy about it. Last summer he would’ve been jumping for joy at the chance to stay here, but now it just served as a reminder of what he had lost.

Footsteps on the stairs broke the silence that had built up heavily in the attic. Harry ignored whoever it was that showed up, not wanting anymore sympathy. Warm, bare arms wrapped around him from behind and a pair of muscled, leather-clad legs pressed against his own. Harry dug his face into his knees.

“You missed dinner again.”

Harry grunted and burrowed back into the hard chest behind him. A chin came to rest on the top of his head.

“Mum set aside a plate for you, in case you came down tonight.” Hands rubbed his torso, feeling the hard edges of ribs and the loss of muscle in his abdomen. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to do this to yourself, Harry. Don’t mourn his death, remember all the good memories you have of him.”

Harry twisted his head around to look into Charlie’s blue eyes. There was no sympathy, no pity in them. Just understanding. “I killed him, you know.”

“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Either way, he shouldn’t be forgotten. Wouldn’t the best way to atone for your sin, real or not, be to never let his memory die?” When Harry didn’t say anything, Charlie stood up and dragged Harry with him. “Come on, we need to fatten you up. There’s no way you’re going to beat Malfoy in quidditch if you’re skin and bones. You’ll be snapped like a twig.”

“I was banned from quidditch by Umbridge.”

Charlie looked back at him, startled. “Oh, I didn’t know that.” He brightened. “Well, then you need to beef up so you can join me at the reserve. You graduate in a couple of years, so we’ll have to work quickly.”

“You’re still going on about me working on the reserve? What makes you think I’m even considering it? I was thinking about becoming an auror.”

“Nonsense! We need all the talent we can get on a broom to wrangle the airborne dragons. They’re hard as hell to hit from the ground. Besides, you‘d be going to waste working for the ministry.”

Harry smiled a bit as he was dragged down to the kitchen. “Charlie?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks.”

Charlie shot him a grin. “No problem, mate.”