Commiserate
Chapter 12: Commiserate
Theo finally let go of Pansy. Her tears had dried up, but the anguish couldn’t be hidden from any of their faces. He leaned into Harry and they embraced each other. Harry clung to him as if he might, too, be stripped away from him at any moment.
Harry couldn’t lose anyone else. He’d never survive it if he lost Ron…or Theo. He’d admittedly grown attached to the happy-go-lucky man in his arms. Theo had a way of burrowing himself into your life, and who was Harry to try and reject something so pure.
“Come back to the flat with me?” Theo begged softly into his ear.
He watched for Ron’s reaction, but the redhead had his eyes glued to Pansy on the ground, hugging her knees. It was reminiscent of the day they’d found the Slytherins locked up in the dungeons and she’d gotten the same news. His heart broke for her all over again.
He wouldn’t say he was friends with Pansy Parkinson, but the witch was becoming an increasingly entwined part of his interest with Theo, and they had definitely surpassed casual enemies and acquaintances.
“Of course,” Harry whispered back.
Pansy made a squeaking sound, drawing their attention. Ron had picked her up bridal style and was carrying her toward the Floo. “Lead the way.”
Theo and Harry ducked into the hearth, landing in the living room of the Slytherin’s flat. Ron followed with Pansy, and Blaise with Luna.
“Put me down, you oaf!” Pansy beat against Ron’s chest, but he held her tighter and her sobs erupted anew as she leaned into his tear-soaked shirt. Ron sat down in one of the singular chairs, cradling her head and knees to him, letting her cry.
Harry stared at them, mouth agape. “What exactly happened while we were gone?”
“The inevitable,” Theo patted his shoulder. “I’ll make tea.”
Luna walked from corner to corner of the room, glancing up at the ceiling, or squatting down at the floor. She looked under the sofa once, before shaking her head in confusion.
“Love?” Blaise called her gently.
“I don’t understand,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “They definitely changed something… ”
She marched up to Harry and circled him, inspecting every inch of his being. The scrutiny made him decidedly uncomfortable, and he fidgeted with anxiety.
“Remarkably ordinary,” she said with disappointment.
Theo had finished with the tea and set the tray on the coffee table between them all. Blaise and Luna sat on the floor, and Theo lounged on the sofa, patting the seat beside him for Harry to sit. He obliged and Theo, ever the wonderful host, began pouring everyone’s tea to their liking. He only paused for Ron, who’s preference he didn’t know.
“Gods, Theo, this tea tastes like literal garbage,” Harry grimaced at the first sip.
His boyfriend chuckled, but pulled out a flask and handed it to him. “Here, drink this instead.”
Harry took a long swig of the firewhisky, letting it burn down his throat. This. This is what he wanted. He could at least numb the pain for tonight.
“Easy, there, Potter,” Blaise chided. “Don’t want to be hungover for the—actually pass that over here.” Harry took another heavy pull but passed the flask to Blaise’s waiting hand.
The flask was empty after about five minutes, and Theo summoned two more bottles that came whizzing out of the kitchen. He handed one over to Blaise and set the other on the table for Harry.
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Nott?” Harry looked accusingly at Theo, jabbing a finger into his chest.
Theo looked affronted, “Since when are we back to ‘Nott’, Potter ?”
“No, I am Potter!” Harry turned his finger toward himself, pouting.
Theo laughed heartily and pulled drunk Harry into his lap and Ron snorted, shaking his head.
“Sorry, mate, it’s still a little weird for me,” he apologized awkwardly.
Harry shrugged, it was still weird to him too, but Theo raised a questioning brow. “And that’s not?” He waved his hand vaguely at Pansy still curled up in Ron’s lap, hugging her tea close to her chest, nursing it.
It was Ron’s turn to shrug.
“We need music,” Luna said, giddily clapping her hands together.
“Over there,” Pansy pointed toward a crate of vinyl records on the bottom shelf of a black iron framed bookshelf.
Harry watched Luna, curiously, as she rummaged through the crate. “Are those Muggle records?”
“Surprised, Potter?” Blaise quipped. “Muggle studies had some decent perks.”
“Oasis?” Luna held up an album, waving it up in the air for them to appraise.
Pansy cheered, “I love Oasis!”
That settled it. Luna dropped the vinyl onto an antique record player and tapped it with her wand. It started spinning and she dropped the needle down. The sound crackled and popped, then the music encircled them.
Some might say that sunshine follows thunder
Go and tell it to the man who cannot shine
Some might say that we should never ponder
On our thoughts today 'cause they hold sway over time
Some might say we will find a brighter day
Some might say we will find a brighter day
The words to “ Some Might Say ” echoed in his brain. Sober, he might’ve seen red. How could there possibly be brighter days? The brightness was gone. Forever. She’d chosen to stay behind. He picked up the bottle of firewhisky and hugged it to his chest, taking the occasional sip. Blaise had laid down with his head in Luna’s lap, doing the same thing.
“Well this is fucking depressing…,” Pansy’s words resonated with each of them, but no one moved to change the record. While the words were in opposition with their souls, at least the riffs were catchy.
Luna sighed dreamily, “When I’m sad, I like to listen to sad songs or read sad stories. It makes me feel less alone.”
None of them could argue with that.
“Remember that time ‘Mione got so mad she sent a flock of birds after me?” Ron giggled.
“Are you giggling?” Pansy mocked, not moving from against his body.
Harry started to giggle too, “Yeah, I abso-fucking-lutely do!” He took a long drink from the bottle and giggled even more. “You deserved it!”
“Yeah,” Ron smiled, “I was a prick that year.”
The next few songs faded to the background as they reminisced. It almost felt like Hermione and Malfoy were in the room with them.
“Oh, I can top that!” Blaise shouted. “Remember that time I walked in on you and Draco—“
Theo launched himself on top of his friend, and Luna casually rolled away, fully anticipating the wrestling match.
“Shut up, Blaise! You said you’d never tell anyone!”
Pansy cackled, clapping her hands together as she snatched Blaise’s bottle off the floor to take a drink for herself. “Blaise keep a secret? Yeah fucking right! Everyone knew you two practiced kissing with each other in third year! Literally. Every. One.”
“ WHAT ?!” Harry’s eyes were round as saucers, picturing Theo and Malfoy kissing. He slapped his hands over his eyes as though that would keep the mental image away.
Ron snorted at Harry’s useless attempt and downed the rest of his tea, confiscating the firewhisky from Pansy.
“Now don’t tell me,” she looked up at Ron under her thick lashes, “you and Potter there—“
Theo looked up, suddenly interested and Blaise kneed him in the groin, attempting to escape.
“ NO! ” They both shouted together. Pansy and Luna laughed even harder, and Blaise and Theo resumed their “fight” rolling around on the floor.
“Pity,” she said with a smirk and Ron spluttered.
Theo coughed a laugh, “Hope you’re up for some experimentation then, Weasley. That one’s kinky as fuck.”
“Oh, I so am not!” Pansy rolled her eyes.
Blaise barked a laugh and even Luna stifled her giggles with a stray throw pillow. “Yeah, and I’m the Queen,” he snorted back.
“If anyone in this room is kinky, it’s you two,” she huffed indignantly. Blaise and Luna grinned devilishly but didn’t refute the claim.
Harry and Ron’s horrified gazes bounced from Slytherin to Slytherin and Theo leaned over toward Harry mercifully. “It’s not as bad as you think…”
And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how
“Everyone shut up! I love this song!” Pansy shouted. “Because maybayyyyy, you’re gonna be the one that saves maayyyyyy. And afterallllllll, you’re my wonderwaaaaallllll!” She crooned, and Theo and Blaise chimed in.
Luna grinned and crawled over to Blaise, humming along with the tune as he turned to sing to her.
Today was gonna be the day, but they'll never throw it back to you
And by now, you should've somehow realized what you're not to do
I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now
And all the roads that lead you there were winding
And all the lights that light the way are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how
Pansy looked up at Ron and he was staring at her lips as they moved. He gulped another drink and leaned in to kiss her. Harry expected her to move away, but she pulled him in closer.
“Yeah, you missed a lot. Honestly? The sexual tension was kind of hot though,” Blaise winked at Harry and Theo as he ran his hand up to the hem of Luna’s skirt and down to her knee in rhythm to the song.
Theo handed Harry his cup of tea. He was completely pissed by now and tea might do him some good, so he sipped it. It still tasted like shite, but he was too drunk to care at that point, and he swallowed the last of it.
“Has everyone finished their tea?” Theo asked innocently.
Pansy rolled her eyes as she broke away from Ron’s lips to say, “Yes, Theo we all drank your awful marijuana tea.”
“Marijuana?” Ron said quizzically.
“We’ve been drugged. You’ll be fine. Enjoy it,” she pulled his face back to hers.
Luna hummed cheerily, “Not my favorite blend, but I thought it was quite lovely, Theo.”
“Marijuana?” Harry watched Theo carefully, but he just laid across the sofa, resting his feet on the coffee table.
Theo had his eyes closed now, grinning dumbly. “Yeah, you know, weeeed ?” To emphasize his words, he pulled out a joint and waved it around.
“I wanna try it,” Harry said sloppily.
Theo sat up just the faintest bit, pulling his wand out to light one end as he inhaled from the other. “You sure, Harry? You’re already pretty fucked up. Crossfades are exquisite in my opinion, but you’ll probably get sick…”
He held it out, leaving it up to Harry. From Harry’s point of view, however, it felt like a dare. He was the one raised in the Muggle world. Shouldn’t he know what weed was? Or what it felt like? How was it that four purebloods knew more about Muggle music and drugs than he did? Did Hermione know what it was? Did she show them? Did Hermione do drugs?
“Granger definitely never touched the stuff,” Theo chuckled.
“Did I say that out loud?” Harry’s eyelids had started to droop, and he nearly missed as he reached for the joint.
He sucked in hard and coughed uncontrollably holding it back out in front of him.
“Fuck, Potter. Jumping in head first, yeah?” Pansy giggled, leaning forward on Ron’s lap to take the joint from him. She took a hit and held her breath, pulling his lips to hers as she sensually released the smoke into his mouth.
Blaise leaned up and snatched it from her hands before she threaded them through Ron’s mussed hair. A slight moan escaped her lips, and Ron slid a hand up the side of her hip, his other went up her back and firmly gripped the base of her neck.
Harry couldn’t pull his eyes away. The way Pansy melded into him, it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. The only definite was the stark contrast between their hair—fire meeting pure darkness. It was strangely beautiful…and as Blaise had pointed out, arousing.
The joint made its way back to Harry but he shook his head, passing. The room had tilted on an axis, and he laid down across the sofa to get his bearings.
There. Now that looks right.
As the final song on the album came on, Harry’s eyes finally drifted shut. He was still awake and would comment every so often, but behind his eyelids, there were bursts of violet and cerulean, dotted with stars that glittered brighter than diamonds.
How many special people change?
How many lives are livin' strange?
Where were you while we were getting high?
Slowly walkin' down the hall
Faster than a cannonball
Where were you while we were getting high?
Harry snickered at the last question. They were most definitely high.
“You alive, Potter?” Blaise asked from the floor. He’d gone back to laying down too, and Luna laid opposite him, their heads lined up perfectly.
He nodded his head, but with his eyes closed he wasn’t entirely sure anyone saw it. He tried to lift his arm to wave at them, but they were filled with wet sand. He had nestled deeper and deeper into the couch, until he’d pushed the bottom cushion out a ways and had become one with the furniture. Theo was teetering on the cusp of flipping off of the end cushion entirely, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m melting into the sofa,” Harry said hopelessly, but not really concerned.
“I’s okay,” Blaise slurred slowly. “It won’t actually eat you.”
Harry tried to move again, but he was unsuccessful. “It already has.”
Wake up the dawn and ask her why
A dreamer dreams she never dies
Wipe that tear away now from your eye
Slowly walkin' down the hall
Faster than a cannonball
Where were you while we were getting high?
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova
A champagne supernova
A tear slipped down Harry’s cheeks and a hand—probably Theo—wiped it away. Hermione should be here. She should be here right now.
The explosions of colors—the galaxies he saw! She would love it. She’d be obsessed with finding out what they were all named or at least which chemical in the brain was responsible for them all…who was he kidding? She knew all of that. She actually paid attention during Astronomy classes and knew way more about Muggle sciences than he ever would. Harry reveled in the images his drug-addled brain brought forth for him.
The lyrics sunk deep into his soul, and he just knew. This was going to be something he remembered for the rest of his life. This sofa. This song. These colors. This feeling. These people. This moment in time would be burned into his brain, so deeply it would never leave. Tonight would be his definition of nostalgia.
How many special people change?
How many lives are livin' strange?
Where were you while we were getting high?
We were getting high
We were getting high
We were getting high
We were getting high
We were getting high
We were getting high
We were getting high
We were getting high
We were getting high
The record ended, but the words swirled on repeat in Harry’s head. We were getting high . Theo’s voice whispered in his ear, “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“Can’t,” Harry mumbled, though he doubted the word actually sounded anything like what he intended.
Theo’s hands grasped his and pulled up, but Harry fell back like a ragdoll, he was dead weight. Couldn’t Theo see he was full of wet sand? Inside the sofa was where he lived now, he’d accepted his fate.
“Up you get,” Theo pulled the cushions the rest of the way out of the couch, wedging his hands under Harry to lift him up. “Here we go.”
The record was still spinning, its pops and clicks filling the room with reminders of its music. Harry blinked his eyes open a few times, catching shuttered images of the flat as Theo carried him, like photographs in time.
Click.
The light in the hallway flicked off, leaving an image of the half shell-like sconce on the wall.
Click.
A bedroom door opened, the walls were a creamy white, with a glue glow coming from a lamp in the corner.
Click.
He was laying on a bed, and a Slytherin house flag was tacked into the wall as a makeshift curtain across the blinds of the window along one of the walls that the bed was pushed up against.
Click.
Theo was casting a cooling charm on the room, and Harry shivered.
Click.
Another body was in the bed, tucking a blanket around him.
“Goodnight, Harry.”
…
Harry woke before the sun rose, his head throbbing at an alarming rate. He fumbled around the bed, feeling for his missing glasses. His hand thumped onto the nightstand, knocking over a glass phial. Thankfully, his seeker reflexes were quick enough to catch it, even as blind as he was, before it rolled off the side.
The bed was warm next to him, empty but warm. When had he gone to sleep? Did Theo bring him in here? He didn’t take Theo for an early riser at all, but maybe he went to the loo?
His hand closed over the wire rimmed glasses, and he pushed them on, hoping to see that the potion left for him was indeed a hangover cure. Once confirmed, Harry downed the sober-up and laid back on the pillows to let it kick in. There was a faint musical humming from down the hall, and it lulled Harry back into a light sleep.
…
A pair of nude sling back kitten heels, covered with black floral appliqués stepped out of the Floo. Elegant black dress robes followed, edged with hand-stitched floral lace, and perfectly coiffed pale blonde hair was the last to enter the flat.
With a flick of her wand, all the lights brightened, and the drapes flung themselves open allowing the morning sun to beam through the windows. Groans of protest rose from the hardly decent couple curled up on the floor as they threw their arms over their eyes.
“My son's funeral is in two hours ,” she snapped, poking the pointed end of her heels into Blaise’s ribs, prompting him to move. “You will all be presentable and sober ,” Narcissa demanded before storming back through the Floo.
Theo was humming in the kitchen, and the melody wafted through the flat. A sleepy Harry emerged from the hallway just as a tray of assorted breakfast foods clattered to the dining table.
“What’s all the racket for?” Ron grumbled, rubbing his eyes from the offending light. The ginger walked out of Pansy’s room in a fluffy purple bathrobe, with the owner close behind, sporting his too-large jumper from the night before over her black knickers.
“Gross!” Blaise groaned, “I could’ve lived a thousand lives without seeing you like that, Weasley.”
Pansy scoffed, “Oh please, like we all haven’t seen more than enough of your ashy arse over the years. Just because he’s on the opposite side of the color spectrum doesn’t make him any less sexy.” She winked and swatted his bum as she marched into the kitchen to take over whatever Theo had started trying to make.
Harry tried not to gag. Of course he’d seen Ron in similar states of dress before—they’d shared a dorm for six years and lived in a tent together for a whole additional year… It was the robe. That fluffy purple robe just was so wrong, and he couldn’t decide between laughing or barfing.
“Opposite—Pansy! The man’s skin is glow-in-the-dark with freckles! It’s not even a color!” Blaise protested.
Laughing. Definitely laughing.
“Breakfast in ten, go get dressed—all of you!” Pansy commanded.
Everyone jumped to attention: Ron marching back to Pansy’s room, his face an embarrassing shade of pink; Blaise and Luna shuffling to the bathroom to ‘shower’; Theo looping his arm through Harry’s and dragging him back to his room.
He tried to slow the pace just a bit, worried what might happen when they finally reached their destination. Did he do something wrong last night? Better yet, did he say something stupid? Declare his undying love or something even more ridiculous?
He wasn’t ready for that level of commitment…of course he knew Theo would never do anything untoward, at least not while he was as smashed as Harry knew he’d been. He trusted Theo. It was himself he didn’t quite trust.
“Listen, Harry,” Theo turned around to ambush him as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, “nothing happened last night. I can tell by your little forehead crinkles you’re trying to work it all out with a fuzzy memory. I swear, I just carried you to the bed—hands to myself all night…although it was quite a feat and I have very little self control so really I wouldn’t expect that much from me again…it was torture! I mean, your arse is so toned— fucking quidditch players—not to mention your neck is basically begging to be sucked on. I bet I could make a lightning bolt shaped hickey to match your scar— oomph! ”
For the umpteenth time in his short life, Harry chose not to think. He let his gut instincts drive him, and gave in to the force that had been pulling at his navel like an overly-forceful portkey; a hook with a fishing line that only led to the tall, lanky, beautiful man in front of him…reeling closer and closer every minute he spent in his presence.
Harry grabbed Theo by the back of the neck and yanked his face down to meet his own. Their lips crashed together, and Theo softened as Harry deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around Theo’s neck, relaxing into him, and Theo’s hands reached down to grab Harry’s hips, digging his fingers in.
When they finally broke apart, both were starving for air, small pants filling the room as the only sound.
“That was…,” a dopey grin unraveled over Theo’s face.
“Yeah,” Harry beamed breathlessly.
…
Narcissa had left instructions on the mantle for them to Floo to Hogwarts via the Headmaster’s office and they were all expected to arrive on time , which Harry and Ron were promptly informed meant early. The six former students exited the Floo, as expected, nearly an hour early.
Professor McGonagall was there to greet them, somber in her own mourning of her favorite student. They waited for Neville and Augusta to appear before she led them all to the Entrance Hall where Narcissa stood waiting uncomfortably with the rest of the Weasleys, the remaining Hogwarts professors, Kingsley, Dean, Seamus, Padma, Parvati, the Greengrass sisters, and Andromeda Tonks holding baby Teddy.
Without a spoken word, Narcissa set the cadence out of the castle and across the grounds, and they all followed in the march. Harry wasn’t certain where they were headed, but he hoped it was somewhere beautiful. He felt for Hermione’s beaded bag in the pocket of his robes for some semblance of comfort. Of course, Mrs. Malfoy wouldn’t bury her son somewhere hideous or dreadful, but still…nothing would ever be good enough for Hermione in his eyes.
The winding path seemed to last forever, and Harry was secretly grateful for time slowing down. He wasn’t ready to let her go. He wasn’t ready for any of this. Of course it was what she had wanted—he’d given her every opportunity to change what was coming—but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
His soul would split. He knew that.
Maybe this was what making a horcrux felt like…or the reverse of one. She was as much a part of him as Ron was—as much as even he was. He would lose a third of himself today with the final nail in the coffin one could say. He chuckled darkly to himself.
How fucked up could he get? He was just snogging another man (who would’ve been considered an enemy only a week or two ago) merely an hour before his best friend’s funeral, which he didn’t even help plan. No. He left that to his childhood nemesis’s mother! He was a pathetic excuse for her only remaining family.
Everything was so upside down. Topsy-turvey. Wibbly-wobbly. He just wanted to go to bed and sleep for a few years, then maybe the pain would recede a bit. Maybe he could forget…
Harry shuddered. He’d never forget her, not a single second of her. Because she was everything and he loved her more than he’d ever told her.
A sturdy hand slipped into his own and squeezed. At least he wasn’t alone.