Stepping in front of Number 12 Grimauld place, the curly haired brunette sighed. It had been weeks since she had seen one of her best friends, maybe even one of her soulmates.
Hermione was worried that if she did not drag him out of his house, Harry Potter, the ‘great saviour’ and the ‘boy who lived’ would rot alone in his self imposed prison.
Frankly she was feeling guilty. The war had taken so much out of her and Ron she did not check up on him. Oh God, especially Ron. The loss of Fred hit the family so hard. It was heartbreaking.
Though, Ron had people around him. He had family.
Harry James Potter had nothing and no one.
At least, till she decided to correct that.
Hermione walked into the house and the smell of dust and alcohol hit her like a tidal wave. She scrunched up her nose, growing increasingly distraught. She slowly made her way into the living room where he was on the couch.
‘Harry?’ She uttered out, voice a bit hoarse due to unuse.
She heard him shuffling, presumably getting up. Walking up to the front of the couch she looked. She couldn't help the sharp inhale she took from the sight of him.
The ‘Savior’. The ‘Chosen One’. He looked nothing like that. He had dark circles hanging under his eyes. His clothes, messy and disheveled. His glasses were nowhere to be found and he was clutching a bottle of wine like his life depended on it .
‘Harry!’ She breathed out before rushing to him and checking if he was breathing. He was.
Sighing in relief, she slowly started to get him to sit up.
‘’Mione?’ Harry whispered.
‘Yes Harry it’s me, can you sit up? Please?’
He finally started pushing himself up into an upright position. Hermione stared at him as he seemed to be catching his breath and pushing his legs up to curl into a fetal position.
She felt useless standing there so she went inside to brew two cups of tea. The muggle way. It made her focus on the task and not feel so useless. As the water began boiling she lost herself in her thoughts.
Harry was struggling immensely. Clearly. Yet, he reached out to no one. Including her and Ron. He chose to isolate himself. Perhaps, he felt like a burden. From what she heard from Ron, his childhood was not good. His aunt and uncle putting bars on his windows. She was appalled and outraged when she first heard that.
Maybe, he felt as if no one could understand him and his burden. Losing everyone you love in a war where you were the ‘hero’ whether you like it or not will have serious repercussions. After Sirius died, he was never the same.
The beeping of the kettle jolted her out of her thoughts. She quickly finished the tea and went over to the couch. Harry had not moved a single centimeter from the time she went inside.
‘Here, I made some tea. Have some, it will make you feel much better-’ Before she finished her sentence Harry lunged at her, hugged her and started sobbing. Loud, gut wrenching sobs.
Shocked, Hermione started rubbing his back and muttered consoling words. She knew how much she needed it.
‘I’m so tired ‘Mione. I want it to stop. Please just make it stop, I'm begging you.’
‘Harry, look at me’ he looked ‘I cannot take your pain away. I will stand with you. Both me and Ron. I'm sorry I didn't come earlier.’
‘I’ve been so alone and tired. Please stay.’ Harry sobbed.
Do not worry anymore, we will be here with you because we are family.’
Harry continued sobbing into her arms till he fell asleep. She stayed till he woke up.
After that she kept coming over. Both her and Ron.
Slowly, things started becoming better and the ‘Boy who lived’ started looking like the ‘Boy who wanted to live.'