Anxiety, my old friend
Harry is woken by the nightmares. His vision is blurry; tears falling freely for the first time in years, his skin is coated in a thick layer of sweat.
They never really went away, only lessened slightly with time. At least he hope so.
“I can’t– I can’t be sure..”
Harry can’t fault Draco. Him surviving the Manor led to Voldermorts end, but at the same time, he wishes it was different. Bellatrix Lestrange had taken it upon herself to cut a slur, mudblood, into Hermione’s arm. He can hear her pleased cackles as Hermione screams, screams that haunt Harry so much that he can feel them ringing in his ears. He can still feel the overwhelming presence of the Death Eaters, Bellatrix’s sickeningly pleased smile. He sees Ron shaking in the cell they were held in, begging Wormtail to let him out, and him cursing while pounding on the bars when he’s met with silence. He can remember telling Wormtail about his life debt; seeing his metal hand strangle him to death.
He can see Luna, frightful and knowing.
“Dobby is happy to be with his best friend, Harry Potter.”
He can see Dobby, he can see Dobby’s dead body. His round blue eyes are glassy, staring at nothing.
“ We should close his eyes. Don't you think? There. Now he could be sleeping.”
He doesn’t want to be Harry Potter anymore. He doesn’t want to be Harry Potter ever again. The dream made his chest ache for his best friends, but he left them on a particularly sour note, and couldn’t imagine they’d want too much to do with him after that. But still, he sometimes yearns for them, for their comfort and familiarity. He wonders if Ron knew that day that Harry would leave and never come back. He thinks Hermione must have known, the look in her eyes when he left was that of pure heartbreak. Sometimes he hopes it haunts him, other times he just wants an apology and to have his best mate back. Sometimes he wonders if being in limbo had sort of frozen him, stopped him from developing past a certain point of healing. That perhaps he never did get better at all, only suppressed and repressed into a false half peace. Or perhaps it was because Harry wasn’t really living. He’d never grow; his brain would always be that of an 18 year old who had far too much trauma.
“Harry, you should really see a mind healer. They can help you work through this.” Hermione’s voice cracked as she watched her friend heal from crashing his fathers motorbike, again.
Harry scoffs, “What can they heal? What can they help me work through? My immortality I never asked for? The grief of having lost all my family? The fact that all I want to do is die? Tell me Hermione how DO I work through this?” He bit back, anger had rapidly become his coping mechanism. She stared at him, defeat in her eyes.
Hermione had nothing left to say.
He knew he was shaking, he had a splitting headache from drinking the night before, and he knew he should try and sleep some more but decided to force himself up.
His dreams wouldn’t be peaceful anyways.
He glanced at his alarm clock and saw it read 6 am. It could have been worse really, he’d only woken up an hour earlier than his alarm. Sighing, he turned off the alarm and made his way to the shower.
He turns it on, pushing the heat to the maximum limit he could handle before removing his glasses and getting undressed before stepping in. He sighs as the hot water rinses away the lingering dread from his dream. He washes himself before fully, and hops out. He quickly pats himself dry and heads back into his room to get ready for the day.
He slips on a pair of jeans and Radiohead shirt, definitely his new favourite, before pulling on a black and brown knit cardigan. He grabs his school bag and makes his way downstairs for a quick breakfast of cereal and coffee. He casts a quick tempus.
7:30
“Better get a move in then.” He grumbles, suddenly very aware that he was going back to school. A sense of dread blossomed in his stomach, anxious to be surrounded by unfamiliar faces again.
He quickly gave Jade a quick pet before making his way to the side door. He did a quick double check for his keys and put on his new jacket and helmet. Opening the garage door definitely did not make him jumó back, no it wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t known it was going to completely go on its own.
‘Bloody muggles and their love for electricity.’ He mumbled to himself.
Harry puts the keys in the ignition before slowly making his way out. Once in the driveway he locks eyes with Charlie and sends a polite wave his way, he turns back to the driveway and begins his journey to school.
Feeling the air hit his skin so fast reminded him of flying.
He can’t truly remember the last time he felt like this, was it when he was still playing quidditch? Or had the feeling been lost even before his last match. All he knows is that when Hedwig died he felt no need to be in the air when she could not. But time has passed, and this feeling is definitely something he’s missed, he hadn’t felt this alive in a very very long time. He knows Hedwig would want him to fly, he knows she would probably peck him senseless for forcing himself to be grounded for so long. He realizes that he does remember seeing his firebolt and decides he may as well take it out later.
It takes about 20 minutes before he makes it to school, slowly pulling into a free space. The car lot was filled with students, and much to Harry’s dismay, it seemed like every single one of them turned to look at him. Hopping off of his bike and pulling his helmet off, Harry looks up and glances around shyly. He may be the boy-who-conquered but that doesn’t mean he likes having everyone’s eyes on him. If anything the wizarding world had quickly proven he hated it, they always wanted more and more from him, and Harry had nothing left to offer. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure he had anything to offer himself.
He slowly shakes the stares off, casting a few wayward glares into the crowds in hopes that it would deter some of his attractors. Harry has peace of mind, he is going to make a list for people who deserved to be pranked, something to look forward to throughout the school year. He marches forward and makes his way into the school. He saw his first class was history, and made his way confidently down the corridors.
Harry’s first mistake was being confident at doing anything.
8:05 passed and Harry had still not found his classroom. He was growing more and more anxious by the bloody second. He quickly came to the realization that he was running around like a headless chicken trying to figure out the maze that was this school. He shook his head feeling his anxiety spiking when suddenly it washed away with a feeling of calm quickly overtaking the dread.
Harry looked around, he knew that wasn’t natural. He had been near a panic attack but now suddenly it’s gone? It did seem to be a mercy though, as his eyes fixated on the classroom and he rushed in without a second thought.
And of course his Potter luck ran strong as everyone stared at him.
“Ah mister Black how nice of you to grace us with your presence.” His new teacher drawled. The man looked and sounded enough like Snape that it sent shivers down his spine. He was tall, thin and gangly with a big sharp nose and quite frankly, did nothing to elicit warmth in Harry. He had flashbacks to his late Professor,
“Mr. Potter, our newest celebrity..”
“Fame clearly isn't everything.”
He furrows his brow, shaking himself free of his thoughts and faces his new teacher,
“Sorry Sir, I got a bit lost.”
“Tsk Tsk. Very well. Since it’s your first day you won’t face any repercussions. My name is Mr. Hartwell. You will take a seat next to Mr. Hale and see to it you’re not late again.” He said pointing with his chalk to the only available seat.
Harry felt a flash of annoyance at the man’s haughty tone and fought greatly at the urge to scowl. Anxiety quickly overtook the annoyance as he made his way down the aisles to the back of the classroom, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as if it would spare him from the stares from his classmates.
As he took his seat, he noticed his desk mate stiffening slightly from the corner of his eye. He glanced up and saw a truly captivating face staring back at him. Harry gave a small smile, avoiding direct eye contact but still taking note of the blonde's deep amber eyes before forcing his attention back to the front. He tried to force his mind to focus on Mr. Hartwell, to ignore the burning desire to glance at the man sitting next to him.
‘Oh no’ realization dawned on him, ‘he’s hot.’ This time Harry can’t fight the groan that escapes his lips. Leave it to his luck to have him sit next to a distractingly handsome muggle. He can feel his deskmate staring at him, burning holes into the back of his head.
“Mr. Hale, would you care to tell us how many Japanese died from the Hiroshima bombing?”
“Yes sir, it’s estimated to be 140,000 people with an additional 74,000 in Nagasaki.” Oh Merlin, his accent was slightly different than the ones he’s been hearing. As soon as the lesson continues, his mind trails off, taking note of the many history posters littering the walls, how his classmates have their heads hung low, quickly scribbling down notes of today's lesson. He briefly wonders about Hogwarts, if the professors had already included the Second Wizarding War in their lesson plans. Harry doesn’t realize how much time had passed before he suddenly jolted at the sound of the bell rushing through the school. He couldn’t help but feel dismayed that he’d spent his entire first class mulling over the thoughts in his head instead of paying attention in his first class. He stands up, feeling the weight of the morning catching up to him, and slinks away to his next class like the rest of the students.
Oh great, biology is definitely not going to be his best subject. Not by a long shot. In fact he’s already quite certain that he’s going to fail it.
“The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.” Okay, sure, but what the fuck is a mitochondria? Clearly his classmates knew because no one seemed as confused as Harry was. Merlin he’s already going to have to study, but where in the name of all that is good is Harry supposed to start? He thought sure, biology that sounds like herbology it’ll be no big deal right?
Wrong. Harry was so so wrong. And how is he supposed to know how cells interact with their environment, why did Deathy torture Harry by putting him in an AP biology course!? It makes him wonder what maths was going to be like, he remembered doing it in muggle school before Hogwarts but he can’t really remember much from it aside from the basics, and now there's something called calculus and honestly, it all just boggles his mind. He thought Hogwarts could be tough but apparently muggles are on a different level of academic torture.
Making his way to the lunch room, he laments that he’s going to be in for hell during biology class and maths. He slumps as continues on his way, feeling his energy levels rapidly dropping down, he could only pray they had some tea or coffee.
Making his way through the lunch room doors and rapidly sees that it was bustling, students filling up the seats and chattering away to their friends. Anxiety was beginning to creep back in as he felt quite the number of students turn to him, whispering to their friends.
“Blimey, is that Harry Potter?”
“Harry Potter, will you hold my baby?”
“Harry, thanks to you I’m alive!”
“Harry… you’ve saved us all!”
Harry saved so many, but he could never save himself.
He forces himself back to reality. Looking around, Harry felt no real compulsion to join anyone, and so grabbed a sandwich and an apple made a beeline towards an empty table. He was devastated to see no coffee, or tea, but they did have something called an ‘energy drink’, he saw that it contained caffeine so that meant it was basically the same right?
Before he can reach his chosen seat, he’s accosted by a simply horrifying muggle.
“Oh my god hi, you must be the new kid. I’m Jessica Stanley. It’s so nice to meet you!” The girl, Jessica, was twirling her dark brown hair between two fingers, her lips smacked together from the gum in her mouth as she shoved her hand in Harry’s direction.
“Oh uh, yeah hi, my name is Harrison.” He replied curtly, grasping her hand for a small shake. He was positive that the discomfort on his face was obvious.
“So like, do you wanna sit with me and my friends,” she batted her eyelashes at Harry, “ also, your accents sooo cool are you British?”
“Uh yeah, British.” He felt himself grow cold, he did not want to be flirted with by this muggle. Even if he barely knew the girl he found himself completely irritated. He glanced around the room anxiously looking for a way to escape. His eyes briefly lingered on a certain honey blonde, before he quickly forced his eyes away. Before he can even think of a rebuttal to the daunting offer, he feels himself being pulled by the annoying girl towards a table with a small group of students.
“Everyone! This is Harrison, I managed to convince him to sit with us!” She all but shrieks as she shoves Harry towards an empty seat. He can feel their eyes stare up at him, waiting for him to make the first move.
“Uh yeah, I’m hi, I’m Harrison Black.” He says begrudgingly. Jessica is definitely on the list.
“Sup, I’m Mike Newton.” Says a stocky blonde boy, he gives Harry that classic high school jock sort of vibe. Not on the list , but there’s room.
“Hello, I’m Angela Weber.” Said the petite brunette from behind her thin silver frames. She smiled politely if not a bit sympathetically towards Harry. He already liked Angela, she seemed quiet and polite. Definitely not on the list .
“Oh! We sit next to each other in biology, right?” Harry inquires.
“Yes! Wasn’t sure if you recognized me! Let me know if you need any help.” Merlin, her smile was so warm. Harry nods his head and smiles in return.
“I’m Lauren.” She eyes Harry up and down and for a moment and he feels like prey being tracked by a predator. Alarm bells ring in Harry’s ears, he can already feel that this girl will be trouble. She has swiftly earned a spot at the top of the list.
“Hey dude! I’m Eric! Can I take a pic of you for the yearbook?” Ah, he is reminding me of Colin Creevy, a camera strapped around his neck, fingers itching to take a photo. Definitely not on Harry’s list .
Harry felt a pang of regret as he remembered poor Colin Creevy. He died so young, too young , as so many others did. Lavender, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Snape and even Dumbledore. Harry had a difficult relationship with the old headmaster. It had taken Harry a long time to come to terms with the fact that he was set up, his entire life, to sacrifice himself for the greater good. Dumbledore had knowingly put him in an abusive home to help widdle down any confidence he could have as a child, he’d allowed him to be abused by his teacher, he’d allowed Harry to be scared, to be led to slaughter. He knew Dumbledore did care for him, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t wrong, he would have sacrificed anything to be rid of Voldermort. He’s shaken from his thoughts by Lauren.
“So Harrison, why did you move from England to boring old Forks? I bet you’re enjoying the chance to be popular, I mean anyone would kill for that” God, her voice was as grating as Romilda Vanes had been, and that was saying a lot since she’d tried to dose Harry with a love potion.
“Uhm well yeah, I have some family that lives here. I also like rainy and dreary weather so I don’t mind it too much. Englands not much sunnier anyways, plus it’s so bloody busy there nowadays so a smaller town suited my fancy. Also being popular has never been my thing, I’d prefer them ignoring me.” He said pointedly.
“Did you come by yourself? Are you like an orph-.” Jessica is cut off by a glare from Angela,
“Jess shut up, you cannot just ask people that. Sorry Harry, are you liking your classes so far?”
‘Thank you Angela, you damn angel.’
He smiles back at her ruefully, “So far I’ve had history, and Mr. Hartwell does not seem to like me for some reason.”
“Ah, Mr. Hartwell doesn’t really like anyone except for me and the Cullens.” She says with a sigh. He listens as Angela goes on a tangent about how unfair it is to the other students for teachers to play favourites, how everyone comes here to learn and to try his best, and he feels his heart ache at the similarities between her and Hermione. She mentions the Cullens again, and this time his curiosity wins out.
“The Cullens? Who are they?” He says glancing around the room.
“Oooh this is my forté! The Cullens are gorgeous . Every single one of them, they sit over there,” she glances swiftly in the direction of the table filled with beautiful muggles, “they’re all adopted, but like two of them are dating each other. The big burly one, Emmett, is dating the blonde girl Rosalie. She’s like the prettiest girl in school.-- Lauren! Don’t hit me for truth! Ugh sorry Harrison, then the small girl is Alice, she’s got to be the weirdest of them, there’s the blonde boy, Jasper, he’s handsome but always looks like he’s in pain, and then there’s the one with the reddish brown hair, Edward, who thinks he’s too good for anyone.” She mumbles out the last part. Harry’s eyebrow quirks in amusement, clearly Jessica had tried her ‘charms’ on the one he is dubbing as Coiffy, and had failed. Harry recognized him as the boy who looks a bit like Cedric Diggory, from his biology class, he sits at the table next to his and Angela’s but with an extra empty seat.
“Anyways! Enough about them, look I was thinking we should like hang out, maybe get to know each other. I really like your accent and you seem soo cool so like we should go on a date or something.” Her saccharine smile made him feel sick, as she pressed towards him.
His stomach was churning, why did this have to happen on the first fucking day of school. He didn’t mind the others so much, namely Angela and Eric, Mike might be cool but it’s clear as day, even to Harry the king of obliviousness, that he has a thing for Jessica so likely he won’t be calm for much longer. But Jessica, god this girl was so pushy, Harry didn’t hate her but he was becoming irritated.
He cracks open his ‘energy drink’ chugging it down swiftly.
“No thanks, I’m not interested, sorry.” He says bluntly, glancing over to the table where the Cullens are, his look was not nearly sly enough. “I’d be okay with being frien-”
“Interested in the Cullens?” Lauren cuts him off, a smug look on her face. “Hate to break it to you new kid, but they’re not interested in anyone here. Plus as Jess said, Rosalie is dating Emmett, and Alice is too weird.”
Harry ponders for a moment, what is it with muggles and assuming everyone is straight? Besides, it’s not that he is directly interested, they’re just attractive, it can’t help but catch his attention.
“I’m not interested, don’t worry.” He replies coldly. “Besides, they don’t seem too hung up on getting to know me.”
“Hmmph, probably for the best. You won’t get anywhere hanging around them. I don’t mind keeping you.” Oh merlin, she fucking winked at him.
Harry shuddered, he couldn’t explain why but this girl had a very bad ‘aura’ as Luna would say. He chose to ignore her, keeping quiet and listening as their conversation prattled on. H ate his apple but lost his appetite when he saw Lauren had continued to keep her eyes set on him. He felt his anxiety spike, feeling like a caged animal on display for her entertainment. His mind was working on overdrive trying to figure out an escape. Angela seemed to notice his unease as she kept sending him apologetic smiles. The bell rang and Harry scrambled to his feet so hard his chair fell back. He hastily picked it up and plucked his trash onto his tray.
“Sorry, got to dash, it's been lovely meeting you all.” He didn’t wait for their replies as he made a quick beeline for the trash bin, and out the lunch room doors.
He darts down the hallways and into the nearest boys' lavatory. His anxiety has reached a maximum; he feels his chest constrict as his breathing becomes more shallow, more rapid. He hunches over the sink, praying the cool marble will ground him. His vision is going blurry, he hears the door open and he thinks briefly how embarrassing this is. The new kid running out of the lunch room and having an anxiety attack on his first day of school. He simply can’t wait to be stared and whispered at even more.
Joy.
But instead of any judgement or passing remarks, Harry feels a cool hand on his own. He feels a shock come from their hands and opens his eyes slightly to look at it. He feels the burden of his anxiety attack lesson slightly from the sweet gesture
“Try and breathe deeply, I know it’s hard, but I also know you can do it.” Ah, their voice is calm. Calm is good. Harry does his best, he breathes as deeply as possible for a few minutes.
“Good, breathing is good.”
“Yeah I think most people would agree with that.” He manages to croak out. A chuckle rings through the room, soft and reassuring.
“Just keep breathing deeply.” They say firmly.
Time trickles on and Harry keeps breathing, not once daring to look up. He’s positive that he looks horrid and wishes to spare himself from further embarrassment, at least for little while longer. Upon his last deep exhale he feels the same sense of calm from earlier in the day wash over him. The same sweet calm that Harry felt couldn’t possibly come from himself. He turns, starting to lift his head to thank– or apologize to the person next to him for helping, but in that same instant he feels the coolness on his hands retract as a breeze tickles his cheek. He looks over and sees no one there at all.
He blinks his eyes dumbly for a moment before looking into the mirror. Eyes glassy, unshed tears coating them making his killing curse eyes cartoonishly vibrant, his face is blotchy and red likely thanks to a lack of oxygen. He breathes deeply before turning the faucet and splashing water on his face before gently scrubbing it with his fingers. He takes a few moments to collect himself before finally leaving for his next class.
As he walks the halls towards the gymnasium, he can’t help but wonder why that person's voice was so familiar.
Frankly it was the least of his concerns, he just wanted to go home and have a drink.