Emerald Shadows

Harry closed the door after the last kids filed out and dropped his smile. He hurried to rearrange the desks into the more informal circle that he preferred for his intentions class. He was a few months into it, and he found that his students were more comfortable when they all sat on the floor in cushions. He only had six. One from each house and then an additional one from Hufflepuff and Slytherin. There were four seventh years and two sixth years. Each of them had shown promise last year when he tried to get all of the students to connect to his magic.

      He had given up his free period two times a week to do this class, but it was worth it to him. He had spent all of his first year plotting the curriculum and carefully studying his students. McGonagall had approved it, with the conditions that only sixth and seventh years who passed all of their core O.W.Ls could participate. She didn't want people skiving off their other courses to be in his special class.

      He did really enjoy teaching defense. He took a lot of advice from Remus on how to go about it. He was taking a very practical approach. His students seemed to enjoy his class, and they had all scored well on their tests the previous year. Harry loved being back at Hogwarts as well.

      The routine of it helped his mindset. Being around children made him happy. Their youthful joy was infectious. He spent the day at Hogwarts, and then headed home, enjoying his evenings with his husband.

      He and Blaise had gotten married when they had finished traveling, the summer before Harry had started teaching. It had been a small and private ceremony, just their closest friends in their meadow. It was beautiful and perfect and simple. Since then, they'd live peacefully in their house. They were beginning to talk more and more about having children. They would have to adopt, of course. Harry wasn't sure he was quite ready, but they'd gotten an application and were starting to fill it out.

      Other than that, their lives were completely normal and peaceful. And Harry did truly love it. Which is why he was so frustrated with himself for feeling the way that he did over the past few weeks. He was stressed. He was tired. And he was falling back into that depressed mindset that he hadn't felt for almost three years.

      His students filed into the classroom. They took their places on their mats. Harry sat on the center mat, at the front of the semi circle. He started leading their daily stretches. It helped to warm muscles and promote body awareness.

      "How are we feeling today?" he asked, pushing his own worries out of his mind. He completely dedicated himself to his students. He was so invested in their success. He started each class with somewhat of a therapy session. He asked them how they were, and gave them a chance to unload their worries. That way, they could more easily focus on learning in a positive mindset. It had taken them all a little while to become comfortable sharing, but now, they trusted each other, and it felt natural.

      "I'm upset," the Ravenclaw said, Jenny.

      "Why is that?" Harry asked kindly.

      "I think I failed my potions test," she said, "I studied really hard but I didn't know the answers."

      "Did you answer all of the questions?" Jacob, one of the Slytherins, asked. Jenny nodded. "Then what's done is done. I'm sure you did okay, but it doesn't help to stress about it now."

      Harry smiled. The rest of the students took turns sharing. Most of them were feeling good today. Those that weren't were soothed by their peers. Harry barely had to speak. He only prompted the conversations on occasion. Once they were all done, he led their meditation session. He was encouraging them to sink deep into their magic, pushing them much further than any of his other classes.

      In his other classes, he only spent one day a month meditating and connecting them to their magic, but he encouraged them to practice on their own, and to come to him if they wanted any help or advice. They never went very far, and a lot of his students just thought it was a waste of time. Still, he always found some students who excelled and felt exhilarated by it. Especially in some of the younger years. They were more open minded.

      Harry never went too far down himself, always wanting to observe his students. He watched them. Jenny came up first. She always did. He smiled at her and she waited patiently for her peers. Then the sixth years opened their eyes. The older Hufflepuff was always last. She opened her eyes.

      "Alright, with the rest of class today I want to work on intentional transfiguration," Harry said. They had covered moving objects. It was the easiest thing to start with. Simply moving objects around with pure willpower. Next, they needed to work on changing things. From there, they could move to charming and shields and elementals. It was only the end of October, they had a lot of time and a long way to go.

      At the end of the class, none of his students had found success but that was okay. They were used to that, and it no longer dissuaded them. His students were incredibly motivated and he knew that they would each be furiously practicing on their own every night. He wouldn't be surprised if a few of them were successful even by the next class.

      It was Harry's lunch then. His worries returned to him. He couldn't hold onto the relaxed feeling that he normally had after that class. It was the numerous letters still sitting on his desk that were bringing him down. The Ministry kept sending him letters. Kingsley had retired, and the head auror position had gone to someone that Ron didn't think very highly of. Cormac Mclaggen. Harry had never met him, he had been older than Harry by a few years in school, but the auror kept sending him requests to join the aurors. Harry had said no, so the man had then requested that he become a trainer for their new aurors.

      Harry already had a job, so he didn't want to. He didn't want to be involved with the Ministry and he had tried to politely make that clear to the man. The man was persistent though, and now had sent him another letter, requesting him to do seminars for the auror department once a month. Harry was beyond frustrated.

      After the debacle with the Death Eaters a few years ago, he had made it clear he was done. He was not going to be on call for the Ministry to use. He wasn't a weapon or a tool. This is what he had been afraid of all of those years ago when he had first come back to Wizarding society. He was still young. He wanted to have a family. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to have these obligations.

      He'd been so frustrated that he'd even sent the new Minister a letter, Rufus Scrimegour. He'd never met that man either, but he'd requested that the letters from the auror office be stopped. Scrimegour was not on his side. He'd expressed his wish for Harry to continue to do his duty to the people of Britain. Harry had not been pleased.

      Ron and Hermione were on his side though, which was nice. Remus and all of his other friends were as well. Still, it was making Harry question himself. Was he being selfish? He could really help people. Maybe he just needed to grow up. But already, he was feeling trapped, and he hadn't even agreed to help. He wasn't planning on it, but the offers were looming over his head, dredging up feelings from when he was seventeen.

      On top of that, the Ministry was also extremely interested in his new class. They wanted to observe, and make him submit his curriculum. His class was technically a private tutoring, as long as he kept it under ten students, so he wasn't required to. He wasn't planning on it. If they knew what he was teaching, the heat on him to teach the aurors would only grow. Because of his refusal to comply, he'd seen some implications from Scrimgeour about his true intentions. It bordered on questioning his motivations and if he was a dark wizard. The headmistress was standing up for him, so Harry wasn't worried about it, but it was just another thing worrying him.

      Finally, he'd received a letter from an author requesting a detailed account of his life for a biography he was writing. Harry was obviously going to refuse, but the author could go ahead with it. Harry had immediately contacted his lawyer to try to stop the book. Technically, the author could write it, as long as he only used public information. If he interviewed anyone, he would need their permission to use their statements. And, depending on the way he licensed it, he wouldn't need to pay Harry. He wouldn't need Harry's permission. He wouldn't make a lot of money, but it was more about the recognition than the money for the author.

      This author was not like Luna. Luna had respected his privacy. She didn't ask questions about obviously traumatizing subjects. She allowed him a rough draft and let him know who she had talked to. Also, Harry had never really agreed to her interview in the first place. He'd been lucky. If he had been sober, he probably would have said no.

      This author had interned under Rita Skeeter, which did not make Harry feel good. In the initial letter, he'd asked directly about getting graphic descriptions of Harry's torture and drug use. He wanted to know all about his childhood and every encounter that Harry had ever had with Voldemort or the Death Eaters. He wanted to know what mental problems Harry still had. Harry had been ready to throw up even from just reading the first letter.

      He'd let all of his friends know, and they'd all assured him that they wouldn't speak to him. Still, he couldn't stop Darla or Tyler from talking to him if he knew about them. He could even venture to Azkaban if he wanted to talk to Dumbledore badly enough.

      His legal team had assured him that they were working around the clock to try to find a way to stop this, or find something incriminating in this author's history. They'd told him not to reply. For now, all they had to do was wait.

      All of these things were combining to make Harry feel like he was trapped. These were making him feel familiar feelings that had been long gone. He felt exposed, and vulnerable. People were preying on his power and his past, just like he'd been worried about all of those years ago. He just wanted to scream at them that he was a person. They were messing with his mind and his feelings about himself. He already had such a hard time defining how he felt and how he should feel.

      He would be lying if he said that he wasn't having dark thoughts that he itched to soothe with his old methods. He hadn't told Blaise. He had stopped seeing his therapist last year, so no one really knew what was going on. He didn't want to worry anyone. His dreams had come back too, but he didn't wake up screaming anymore. He woke up, paralyzed in fear and memories. It normally took him hours to go back to sleep, but he laid still, so as not to wake Blaise.

      The rest of the day passed quickly. He had third years and fifth years that afternoon, and they were his long classes. He was exhausted by the time he was done. He sat down in his office and leaned back, closing his eyes. He had some papers to grade before he went home. He didn't assign a lot, mostly because he didn't like taking them home and interrupting his time with Blaise.

      He opened his eyes at a slight knock on his door. Remus was standing in the doorway.

      "Tough day?" he asked. Harry sighed. He shoved down how he felt.

      "No, just tired," he lied. Remus came and sat down in one of his chairs.

      "Are you sure? I know there's a lot on your plate," Remus said, gesturing at the pile of letters Harry had shoved off to the side. He'd talked to Remus about them, but he'd tried to avoid mentioning the trainwreck that they were making him turn into. He was a fully capable adult who should be able to handle a few unpleasant letters.

      Harry nodded, "I'm dealing with it."

      "Harry, you don't have to pretend that it doesn't bother you," Remus said. The warmth and concern in his eyes almost made Harry's walls crumble. Almost.

      "It does bother me a bit, I'll admit," Harry said, choosing his words very carefully, "But there's not much I can do about it." He shrugged. He leaned forward and pulled out the papers that he needed to grade. "Did you need something?"

      "Yes actually," Remus said, "First of all, my wife wants to know if you and Blaise like Chinese food, for this week's dinner."

      "That's fine," Harry said with a small but genuine smile.

      "Okay, good," Remus said, "Secondly, I have a Gryffindor who has expressed interest in possibly joining your class in the second semester. Is that possible?"

      "Who is it?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

      "Lily Montegomery," Remus said. Harry sat thoughtfully. Remus was the Gryffindor head of house. Lily was a sixth year student who had initially turned down his offer to join the class because she was worried about course load. Several students had done that, and Harry had understood.

      "I think maybe she could, but it might be better for her to wait until next year," Harry stood and grabbed a clean sheet of parchment. He wrote down the topics they'd covered already, and what they would cover by the time the semester ended. "If she can show me proficiency in these, I'll let her in."

      "Okay, she'll be thrilled," Remus nodded and stood.

      "Tell her I'm perfectly willing to do some sessions with her. I don't have time for weekly tutoring but I can meet with her to help at least a few times," Harry said.

      "Okay, and Harry, let me know if you ever need to talk okay?" Remus said before he left. Harry nodded but didn't say anything. Remus left. Harry finished grading his papers. It was almost nine before he got done. He'd skipped dinner to finish and he was starving. Before he flooed home he took a deep breath and fixed his face. He didn't want Blaise to be worried. He was sure he was just in a little bit of a funk. He'd wake up tomorrow or the next day and feel perfectly normal.

      When he flooed to the living room, he was startled to see Rob and Blaise sitting on the couch looking solemn.

      "What's going on?" Harry asked immediately, his heart rate speeding up already. Blaise looked weirdly relieved to see him.

      "Molly is missing," Rob said. Harry cursed under his breath. Molly had relapsed once or twice in the past few years. She had a really hard time dealing with everything. Rob stood by her every time and sobered her up. She always felt horrible afterwards. Harry had talked her through it several times. When she was happy and healthy, her and Rob would come around to their house a lot and hang out. Harry felt grateful for them, they really brightened his life. Molly was so positive and kind. It hurt Harry's heart that she battled her internal demons so intensely. Rob was serious and strong. It awed Harry in the way he loved Molly. They were so different. But so perfect. He stood by her through her issues, and she made his life full of light and happiness. He was so gentle with her, and she blossomed with his love.

      "What happened?" Harry asked, setting down his bag and sitting with them, "Start from the beginning."

      "She was doing really well, and then she got a call from one of her old friends to go out," Rob said, "I was really proud of her because she said no. But I know it was on her mind. I was trying to keep an eye on her. I got home from work earlier and she was gone. No note. But I know the clothes that are missing are her clubbing clothes. She won't answer my calls."

      "Do you know which one she would be at?" Harry asked.

      Rob shook his head, "I came here wondering if she had told you."

      There had been one time that Molly had tried to encourage Harry to relapse with her while she was high. She'd even brought some stuff directly to Harry. He'd refused, though it was difficult and kicked her out of his house. She'd been torn up with guilt afterwards. Blaise had been furious. He'd never quite trusted her the same. Harry had struggled for weeks, dealing with the reawakened cravings and thoughts. Eventually, Harry had forgiven her and things went back to normal. Molly had been lonely. It had been wrong of her, but Harry knew she had been in a really bad place. He could never stay mad at her.

      Now, he knew Rob had been almost hoping she'd come to Harry again, simply so that he knew where she was. Molly hadn't contacted Harry though. It also explained why Blaise was so relieved. It slightly annoyed Harry that Blaise had thought he would have agreed to go with Molly. He pushed it down because it didn't matter right now.

      "She hasn't," Harry said. Rob nodded.

      "I've called all of the places I know," Rob said, "They're going to let me know if they see her."

      Rob still had a lot of connections, especially to bouncers and other dealers.

      "Good idea," Harry nodded and then sighed, "I hope she's okay. I thought this time she really had it."

      She'd been sober for almost a year. Rob nodded, "Me too."

      "We'll find her, and she'll get better," Blaise said determinedly. Even though he didn't necessarily trust her when it came to Harry, Blaise did care about her a lot. Over the last two years, they'd all grown close.

      Then Rob's phone rang.

      "She's there?" he asked, "Get her to the back room if you can, I'll be right there."

      He hung up and stood. Harry stood as well.

      "I'm coming," he said. Blaise stood too.

      "Then I'm coming," he said. Harry both appreciated it and was annoyed by it. Did Blaise think he couldn't handle being there? Harry was fine. But he also wasn't fine at all, and he did like that Blaise was looking out for him. Harry hated this inner turmoil.

      They went outside and apparated to a nearby location. A bouncer let them in the back door. Molly wasn't there yet, so they'd have to go into the main part to look for her. Harry hadn't been in a club since he'd broken things off with Darla and that team. He took a breath at the familiar pounding music and flashing lights. They waded through bodies dancing. Harry kept his eyes away from the tables that he knew were filled with his personal temptations. Still, he saw enough people smoking or putting their heads down with a little rolled up dollar bill. It made his skin itch. He reached out for Blaise's hand, suddenly so grateful for his presence. Blaise took it, and squeezed his hand supportively.

      They found Molly in the crowd, sipping from a drink. Her eyes were wild. She looked so excited to see all of them. Rob took her arm and Harry took her drink. They led her back to the back room. She didn't protest at all, too drunk to see their concerned faces. Rob sat her down on the couch in the back which had been cleared out for them at Rob's request. Harry did a diagnostic. He raised his eyebrows. It was actually clean besides the alcohol.

      "Well this could be a lot worse," Rob muttered. He clearly wasn't happy, but it was good that she hadn't gotten back onto the hard stuff yet. Unlike Harry, alcohol was a direct gateway for Molly. Harry drank occasionally, never alone, or without Rob or Blaise, but he'd never had an issue with it.

      Harry sat down next to Molly. He cast a slight sobering charm that he'd learned on her. It wouldn't fully work, as that might cause her to throw up or worse, but it would allow them to talk a little bit. She blinked. Her eyes immediately filled with tears when she comprehended the situation.

      "I'm sorry," she said. Rob pulled her into a tight hug.

      "Why?" he asked.

      "I just, I wanted to have fun, and I missed them, I told myself I wouldn't drink," she said, "I couldn't resist. I shouldn't have come."

      Rob nodded. "I know you had good intentions, but there's a reason we avoid triggers like this."

      Molly nodded, "I think I should go in-patient for a few days."

      "I think so too," Rob agreed. Then he looked at Harry and Blaise, "Can you take her to yours? I'll be there shortly but I need to go talk to some people here before I go."

      Harry nodded. He helped Molly up and they walked out. They apparated to their front yard. They settled Molly into the living room.

      "Blaise, can you make tea?" Harry asked quietly. He nodded.

      "Do you want to talk?" Harry asked Molly. She nodded. Molly sometimes liked to confide in Harry because she knew he understood in a way that neither of the others could.

      "I just get so upset," she started, "I just want to be normal. Everytime I think I have a handle on it, I get too confident. And then I mess up. And then I have to start over. And it's just so tiring. I'm so tired of working so hard. Sometimes..."

      "What?" Harry prompted gently.

      "Sometimes I just wonder why I'm fighting so hard," Molly whispered, "I know I should keep fighting, but what if I just stopped? I could just give in."

      Harry swallowed, Molly's words hit a chord in him that he wasn't proud to admit that he had. Sometimes he wondered the same thing. A lot more lately. It did sound easy. He recited to her the same thing he'd been told so many times before. He tried to make himself believe it, "You know how that ends Mols. You know how bad it gets. It seems easy at first, but it will tear your life apart. You like being sober. You like being able to experience life to the fullest."

      "But how do I bear it?" Molly asked. Harry spoke firmly, though he felt hollow.

      "You take it one day at a time. Appreciate the little things about being sober. Find the good," he told her, "You can do this. You've done it before."

      "I know," Molly sounded like she believed it more than Harry did at the moment. Anxiety knotted up in his chest, "I love my life like this. I want to live. I don't want it to overtake me the way that it did before. I want to stay sober. Thanks Harry."

      "Of course," He said, his voice catching. Blaise walked into the room with tea which distracted Molly from his weird voice waver. Blaise handed her the tea. Harry avoided looking at him, too worried that Blaise would be able to see the losing battle in his mind. It was such an odd thing, to know something well enough to convince someone else of it, but not to actually believe it himself.

      He didn't know how he could bear it. He didn't know if it was worth it. Wouldn't it be better to just get high, and forget everything? No one would expect anything of him anymore.

      But he had Blaise who he loved. And a job who that he loved. And so many friends that he loved so much that he almost considered them family.

      Instead of that making him feel better, he felt worse. He was trapped. He couldn't seek relief. He would hurt people. He had to grit his teeth and deal with it, just so that he didn't cause anyone else pain. It made him angry, and frustrated, and even more inclined to forget it all and find a dealer. He just didn't want to figure it all out. He'd had enough.

      Rob came through the front door.

      "Alright sweetheart," he said, "We can go home."

      Molly stood, much steadier now. Rob wrapped his arm around her waist and led her out after bidding them goodbye. Harry sat back on the couch and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, upset, hungry, and confused. It had been an extremely long day.

      He felt Blaise move and sit next to him. Harry leaned his head on his shoulder and Blaise wrapped an arm around him. They didn't speak for a few moments.

      "What's going on in that head of yours?" Blaise asked. Harry wanted to cry. He didn't. He wanted to tell Blaise everything. He knew Blaise knew something was wrong. He just didn't have the words to describe it. His mind raced to figure out something to say.

      "I worry about her," he settled on. He knew it wouldn't be enough to convince Blaise he was telling the truth. "And... I don't know."

      Blaise waited patiently for him to gather his words.

      "I just wonder what the point is sometimes. Like I got out. She got out. But she still struggles with it, will it ever end?" Harry mused. He held back a lot of his much darker thoughts.

      "The point is to keep trying," Blaise said, "We always keep trying for something better."

      Harry nodded, and shifted closer to Blaise.

      "Do you feel like you're in a good place with it?" Blaise asked very carefully. Harry forced himself not to tense up. "Do you feel tempted at all?"

      "I always do," Harry said, "But, it's not any harder right now."

      Blaise nodded and relaxed a bit, "Let me know if you need anything okay?"

      Harry nodded.

      Wow, he thought, two offers of help in one day.

      He must need to do a better job of keeping his emotions off of his face. He didn't want people walking around him like he was about to break.

      Harry's stomach growled a little bit.

      "Hungry?" Blaise said, "I can make a snack. What did you have for dinner?"

      "Er," Harry said, "I forgot to get some, I had a lot of papers to grade."

      "Harry," Blaise scolded gently, immediately standing to make him some, "I'll get you something."

      Harry followed him to the kitchen, trying not to get lost in his thoughts again.