A Moment Of Light.
It was a quiet afternoon at Hogwarts, the kind that came once in a while, where the clouds parted just enough to let the sun peek through. The grounds were peaceful, almost too calm. It had been a few weeks since the staff had uncovered the true extent of Harry’s suffering, and their concern had only grown, reaching a level that weighed heavily on their hearts.
He had withdrawn even more into himself, spending hours wandering the grounds in silence, seeking solace from the one thing that seemed to bring him peace—*animals*.
Today, Harry was outside again, but this time, the staff found themselves drawn to the window, observing him from the distant safety of the castle.
He was sitting cross-legged on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where the magical creatures often roamed. It was a place Harry had always seemed to feel a connection to, despite his coldness toward everything else. In the distance, a few of the unicorns grazed, their white coats gleaming in the sunlight. A hippogriff pecked at the earth, its large head lifting to glance at Harry every now and then. Even the thestrals, normally unseen by most, lingered at the edge of the clearing, drawn to the boy who saw them for what they were.
He wasn’t alone.
Dobby had accompanied him, his large eyes glinting with what could only be described as concern, though Harry seemed unaware of it. The house-elf flitted around, picking at the grass, occasionally glancing up at Harry with a quiet, almost reverent gaze.
The staff stood in the corner of the staffroom, watching with mixed expressions of worry and confusion. They had never seen Harry like this before. He was so... different. So *alive*.
"Is he... smiling?" Pomona Sprout whispered, almost as if speaking too loudly would shatter the moment.
Lupin’s eyes softened as he looked out the window. “I think he is. I’ve never seen him like this.”
Harry sat perfectly still, his posture more relaxed than they had ever seen him. His head tilted just slightly, eyes following a butterfly as it fluttered around him. Then, as if the world had just shifted around him, Harry’s lips curved upwards. It was faint at first, like the beginnings of something unsure. But then, it spread wider—*genuinely wide*, as if the weight of everything had finally lifted, if only for a moment.
The smile was so bright, so *pure*, that it made his face seem younger, softer, like the child he should have been. Like the child he had never truly been allowed to be. For the first time in months, Harry looked... *happy*.
He sat there, surrounded by magical creatures—things that accepted him for who he was—and let his smile grow. It was fleeting, as all moments of peace seemed to be in Harry’s life, but for the briefest second, he wasn’t the detached, predatory figure they had come to know. He was just... *Harry*.
Harry, the child.
The creatures around him seemed to sense this shift, their movements slowing, softening. The unicorns wandered closer, nuzzling his shoulder gently. The hippogriff made its way over, lowering its head to nudge his cheek in greeting. Even the thestrals, normally so distant, seemed to hover just a bit nearer, drawn to the rare calm he exuded.
Dobby, too, seemed to take a moment to revel in this small, beautiful thing—Harry’s smile. He didn’t understand all the reasons behind it, but for now, he was simply *grateful*.
The staff couldn’t tear their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them. Harry was *alive*—*human*. The mask he wore, the predator’s detached demeanor, slipped for just a brief moment. And they saw him—*really* saw him—for the first time in a long while.
“Look at him,” McGonagall murmured. “It’s like he’s finally... breathing.”
“It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile like that,” Lupin added, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid that speaking too loudly would disturb the delicate moment.
“I think... I think he’s healing,” Pomona Sprout said quietly, her tone filled with a gentle hope.
But even as they watched, they couldn’t ignore the gnawing worry that lingered in the back of their minds. This happiness, this childlike joy—it was fragile. And they weren’t sure how long it would last.
Harry stayed there for a while longer, content in his own quiet world, surrounded by creatures who didn’t ask for anything from him, creatures who simply *were*, and creatures that seemed to understand him in a way no one else had. For once, there was no mask. No walls. Just Harry.
And though the staff watched from afar, all they could do was hope. Hope that this moment would last. Hope that Harry would allow himself to feel this peace again. Hope that, one day, the darkness would recede enough for him to *live* again.