Emerald Shadows

Harry, contrary to what he had wished for, did not wake up from his depression spell the next day. Or the next day. Or even for the entirety of the next week. Every day he got worse. Every day his mind worked against him to try to convince him that it would be better if he just had a little something to take the edge off. He questioned if he should be helping the Ministry. He was worried about the book. He felt trapped. He felt guilty for feeling the way that he did.

      The only bright spots were his lessons of intention and his dinners with Remus. When Teddy was there, the house was so full of life that he was truly happy and relaxed. Remus was safe. Blaise was safe. He felt better when he was with Blaise at home too, but he always had the secrets that he was keeping in the back of his mind, making him feel horrible.

      He started spending a few nights a week at Hogwarts. He technically had a bed in his office. Sometimes he just couldn't bear to go home to lie to Blaise about how he felt. Blaise didn't love it, but accepted it. Sometimes in the past year, Harry had stayed during busy times. He'd have to stay so late, he'd just be too tired to go home. Blaise bought the excuse that with the upcoming fall break, Harry didn't have time, especially without all of his free periods and the extra class. Afterwards, things would die down and Harry would go back home like he normally did every night.

      He got another letter from the Ministry a few days before All Hallow's Eve. There was even more guilt tripping in this one. Even more implications that if he didn't help, the Ministry would question his loyalty. He burned it, and smashed a glass. He cleaned it up quickly, ashamed of his inability to control himself. He'd started skipping lunch too, claiming that he was eating in his office to have more time to plan due to his lack of a free period. In reality, he just needed those minutes to go into his magic and calm down. He was always on edge.

      His magic was normally a blessed escape for him, but it was starting to become less helpful. His magic was so connected to his mood and mental state, and the longer that it went on, the less comforting it was. It was unsettled. It needed calm and stability that Harry did not possess to give it. The more he relied on it to calm himself, the less calm it was. Harry knew he couldn't maintain living this way for much longer, but he didn't have any idea what to do about it. And he only had until after Fall break to figure it out. Or at least figure out a cover story for Blaise.

      On All Hallow's Eve, he woke to a pounding headache. He'd had the worst dreams of his parents being murdered and his time with Bellatrix all being twisted into the same event. He'd been unable to wake up, paralyzed watching the horrors that he had faced over and over. He sat up in his office bed, alone and cold. He felt surrounded by the self-imposed isolation that had grown so prominently over the past few weeks. It was still dark. He checked the clock to see that it was only midnight. He'd gone to bed early, exhausted, as he always was. He climbed out of bed, hands shaking.

      He knew what he wanted. He knew what would make it better. He knew that he could go, and no one would even know. He didn't have to hurt anyone. The students had off tomorrow, which was Friday. School didn't begin again for a whole week. He didn't have any responsibilities. He'd planned to go home, but he could still do that.

      Before he could second guess himself, he changed, and flooed to his old flat. Blaise and he had decided to keep it, simply as a place for the extra mail that he got to go. Now he was grateful. He found his old bracelets in the bathroom cabinet that they'd kept for emergencies. He trudged downstairs, and flinched at the cold air on the street. He made his way to one of his old favorite places where he knew there would be a couple familiar faces from several years ago.

      He went to the back entrance to skip the line. The bouncer took one look at his face and let him in immediately. He took a deep breath before he entered the main room. No one had to know. It was fine.

He went to the bar and order a drink with a triple shot in it. He searched the back tables for anyone that he recognized. He found one of his old buddies. He slid in the booth to cheers and greetings from the old people who used to try to get in with him and his group. Thankfully, Tyler wasn’t there, and obviously Molly and Rob weren’t either. Harry didn’t think Kristine even went out anymore. 

Someone laid him out a line. 

It’s fine. He thought, forcing himself not to think about all of the reasons he shouldn’t. I just need this. It’s fine. 

Later, when someone gave him a pill he thought, It’s fine. No one will know. 

Then when he bought a bag of a mixture of several drugs he thought, It’s fine, just to take the edge off sometimes.

It’s fine. 

      Blaise looked at the newspaper in front of him in shock. It was a trashy celebrity magazine. Pansy stood in front of him, waiting for him to speak. Blaise didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to feel. He was angry, hurt, confused, and so beyond worried.

      In front of him was a picture of Harry with the caption "Harry Potter returns to the club scene with old friends, looking as sexy as ever!"

      Harry was pictured sitting at a table in a club, smiling at a girl across from him. They appeared to be oblivious to the picture being taken. There were drinks littering the table. The man next to Harry was smoking something and Blaise spotted a rolled dollar bill near Harry as well. Harry's face may have looked normal to everyone else, but Blaise knew better. Those eyes were not sober, or drunk either. There was so much more in his system, that was clear. He also spotted those bracelets that he hated so very much.

      "Well?" Pansy asked, "Did you know about this?"

      "No," Blaise said, mind racing. He knew Harry had been stressed lately. He had guessed that there was more to it than Harry was saying, but he thought it just had to do with his increased workload and pressure from the Ministry. He had no idea that Harry had been close to a relapse. He'd straight out asked him. Had Harry lied?

      Pansy read his face. “Okay, it’s going to be okay, you just need to go find him and talk to him.”

“Yeah I do,” Blaise said, standing. He was suddenly angry. Harry had claimed he was too busy at work to come home, and had gone out clubbing instead. It stung. And Harry had lied. 

He flooed to Harry’s office, but the person there was not Harry. It was Remus. 

“Blaise, what are you doing here? Where’s Harry?” Remus asked. 

“I don’t know where he is, did you need something?” Blaise asked. 

“I was just coming to check on him, I know last night was probably hard for him, with it being the anniversary of his parent’s death and all,” Remus said. 

“Well, it seems like he didn’t handle it too well,” Blaise said, showing Remus the picture on the magazine that he had taken with him. Remus went pale. 

“No,” he murmured, “He didn’t.”

“He did, and now I have no idea where he is,” Blaise said, panic rising, “He could be in some other bloke's bed, too out of it to know what’s going on. He could be alone somewhere. He could be dead in an alley, overdosing on some shit like last time.”

“Okay, let’s not panic,” Remus said, “Have you checked his old flat?”

“That’s where I’m going next,” Blaise said. 

“Good, I’ll stay here in case he comes back,” Remus said, “Send a Patronus if you find him, I’ll do the same.”

“Thank you,” Blaise said and made to leave. 

“Wait,” Remus said, “Do you know what you’re going to say to him if you find him?”

“No, it depends what state he’s in,” Blaise sighed, feeling in over his head. He didn’t know what he wanted to say to his husband. 

“Just make sure you’re calm, we don’t want to make things worse,” Remus advised, “You can be angry later, but let’s make sure he’s safe first.”

Blaise nodded and then flooed away. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Harry in the kitchen, pouring himself some tea. He looked absolutely dreadful. His hair was a mess, he was pale, his hands were shaking a bit. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were dry. He looked at Blaise in surprise, as if he didn’t expect to see him. 

“Good morning love,” Blaise said, “Have a good night last night?” 

He set the magazine down on the counter in front of Harry. Harry looked at it and swallowed. 

“Care to explain?” Blaise asked. He kept any anger or frustration out of his voice. He wanted to give Harry a chance to explain himself without feeling judged. 

“Um,” Harry floundered, “I didn’t know there were pictures.”

“So you were going to keep it a secret then?” Blaise asked, anger rising. Harry didn’t say anything. “Has this happened before?”

“No!” Harry exclaimed, “No, I swear.”

“How can I believe you? You told me you weren’t having cravings,” Blaise said. Harry turned away and didn’t say anything. “You have to give me something here Harry. I want to help but I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I don’t need help,” Harry bit out. Blaise was surprised by his hard tone. 

“Like hell you don’t,” Blaise spat, “Where did this all come from?”

Harry spun back around, “I’m fine!” 

Blaise noticed his hands had stopped shaking and his eyes were starting to glaze over. His fear and anger doubled. 

“Are you high right now?” he demanded, “Did you take something this morning?”

Harry’s eyes shifted guiltily over to something on the counter beside them. Blaise looked over and saw a bag of pills. 

“Merlin Harry,” he said. He was speechless. Not only did Harry go and get high last night, but he’d bought what looked like enough to start his consistent drug use up all over again. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Blaise admitted. In the past, he’d help Harry get out of an abusive situation. He’d been controlled and manipulated. This time, it was completely Harry’s own doing and Harry didn’t seem to have any interest in getting help. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Harry’s words were coming slower now as the drugs kicked in. 

“What do you want?” Blaise asked. Harry shrugged, “Why are you doing this?”

“I just, it feels better I suppose,” Harry said in a monotone. Blaise’s stomach clenched. 

“Better?” Blaise asked, “Do you remember all of the downsides to this?” 

Harry only shrugged again and trudged over to lay on the couch. Blaise followed him. 

“Are you just going to throw everything away?” Blaise asked. Harry’s nonchalance was scaring him so much. 

“No, it’ll be fine,” Harry soothed him, closing his eyes. 

“No Harry, it won’t,” Blaise said angrily, “None of this is fine. And you don’t even care.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, opening his eyes to look at Blaise. Blaise saw no emotion in them. 

“No you aren’t,” Blaise seethed, he stood and paced. He went over to Harry’s drugs on the counter to confiscate them. They whizzed out of his reach before he could touch them. 

“Don’t take those, I need them,” Harry said. Blaise was shocked before he noticed Harry wasn’t wearing his bracelets. He was both calmed and frightened by that. 

“Fuck Harry,” Blaise said, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Just come lay here with me,” Harry said, reaching for him. Rage came up inside of Blaise then. 

“No, I will not encourage this, if you don’t want help, you’re not getting me,” he said firmly. 

“You’re leaving me?” Harry said, looking concerned for the first time since Blaise had gotten there. 

“No, I’m not leaving you. You’re my husband. Maybe you should remember that,” Blaise said, stalking to the fireplace, “I’ll come back in a few hours, I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. Try to sober up. Come home if you want to. When you want help, we’ll talk.”

It physically pained Blaise to walk away like that. As he flooed home, he prayed he wasn’t making a huge mistake. He sent Remus a Patronus telling him he had found Harry but that it hadn’t gone well. 

Remus flooed to their house a few moments later. 

“What happened?” 

“He was high. He was clearly hungover and he had a bag of pills on the counter. He’d just taken one,” Blaise said, letting out the anger he’d been keeping so bottled up, “He wouldn’t tell me why he was doing it or what had happened. He just said that it was fine! He didn’t want help. He was just… content to be a fucking junkie!” 

“So you left?” Remus checked, “He didn’t kick you out right?”

“No, I left, I couldn’t stand to talk to him like that any more. He tried to get me to come lay with him,” Blaise recalled, “I won’t. I will not make him feel like this is okay, or that things can stay the same. I told him I would come back when he was sobered up, or he could come here if he wanted help.”

“I understand,” Remus nodded, “You did the right thing.”

“I don’t know what’s right this time,” Blaise told him. “Last time, it wasn’t easy, but I at least knew what to do. There’s no one to rescue him from this time. Just himself. I can’t- I can’t make these choices for him. But I also know that he’d only do this if he was hurting a lot and that makes me so upset and I just want to go to him and take care of him. But I don’t want to enable.”

“It’s a really hard situation,” Remus agreed, “Our instinct is to just wrap him up in a blanket and tell him that everything’s okay. But it isn’t. And we cannot pretend that it is.”

“I should call Rob,” Blaise suddenly realized, “This is like his whole job, maybe he could help.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Rob’s number. 

“What’s up Blaise?” Rob picked up right away.

“Harry relapsed,” Blaise said, cutting straight to the point. 

“I heard rumors, I had hoped they weren’t true,” Rob said, “I was going to call you soon.”

“What do I do?” Blaise asked. He put the phone on speaker for Remus to hear it. 

“Well, where is he?” Rob said. 

“His old flat,” Blaise answered, “I went over there and he’s high on some pills and doesn’t seem too concerned about getting sober.”

Rob gave a frustrated sigh on the other end of the line, “You left him there I’m guessing?”

“Yes, I- I got so angry, I couldn’t talk to him anymore,” Blaise admitted. 

“I get it mate,” Rob said, “It’s hard, was he trying to tell you everything was fine or was he getting mad?”

“He seemed frustrated with me for being concerned, but not angry. He just wanted me to act like everything was normal,” Blaise answered. 

“It’s good that you left then, reinforce that it's’ not okay, he should be able to pick up on that even if he is high,” Rob said, “Make sure he knows it’s okay to come home though.”

“I did, I told him when he wanted help he could come home,” Blaise said, “Should I be nicer? Or should I be harsher?”

“There’s no right answer,” Rob said, “This could get really sticky, and it’s not your fault. It’s maybe not even Harry’s, but it’s definitely on him the most.”

“Do you think it’s going to be bad?” Blaise asked worriedly. Remus was listening intently. 

Rob didn’t answer right away. When he did, he sounded grave, “It’s hard to say. On one hand, this is his first relapse. Maybe it will be okay.  On the other, this is the first time that he’s actively sought this out on his own, completely disregarding everything that he already knows. Just the other day, he told Molly all of the reasons we normally give people to stay sober. He convinced her. And yet… here we are.”

“Do you think that might have triggered him?” Blaise asked. 

“Possibly, but if it was the only factor, I think it would’ve happened right away,” Rob theorized. There was silence for a few minutes. 

“So if this is not super serious, he’ll get sober in a few hours, come home and we’ll talk and get him back in therapy and all of that,” Blaise said, “If it is… what does that look like? What do we do?”

“It depends on him. If it’s really bad, that could look like him becoming angry and aggressive. He might run away. He might just lie and make us think everything’s okay. He might not try at all to hide it or do anything,” Rob said, “We will need to watch him closely. There might not be a lot we can do. We can try to convince him, but at the end of the day, it’s up to him.”

“You can’t force him into rehab under the guise of being mentally incapable of making good decisions can you?” Remus asked. “Or being a danger to himself?”

“You could, Blaise probably could, but it would be a stretch,” Rob said, “And that’s only temporary, especially if Harry doesn’t want it. And you’d probably create a very hostile relationship.”
Blaise sat down and put his head in his hands. Remus sat next to him and rubbed his back. 

“We’re going to figure this out,” he soothed. 

Rob’s voice came over the phone, “I do have hope, I don’t think it will be easy, but Harry is a very good person at heart. I have faith that at some point, he’ll see reason. I just hope it’s not too late.”

With that, their conversation died. Rob said goodbye and hung up the phone. 

“I’ll go with you to check on him,” Remus offered. Blaise thanked him. A few hours later, when Harry had still not returned, they made their way back to the floo. 

   Harry was no longer on the couch. He wasn't in the kitchen, and he wasn't in his bedroom when Blaise checked. He wasn't in any of the guestrooms or the bathroom. He wasn't anywhere. Blaise cursed under his breath.

      "I didn't think he would leave," he told Remus, who was looking very concerned. Blaise sent a quick text to Rob that Harry was now missing.

      "I wonder what's going on in his head," Remus muttered, running a hand through his hair. Blaise knew that Remus was the closest thing to a father figure that Harry had. At least he was still alive. "I knew he was stressed, but he never indicated that something like this might happen."

      "I feel the same way, and he's my husband," Blaise said.

      "You can't blame yourself," Remus said quickly.

      "I do a bit, but I also know this is on him too," Blaise said, "I just hope he's okay."

      The pair headed back to Blaise's house, putting a monitoring charm on the flat like they had done with his office to let them know if he had returned.

      Blaise sank onto their couch.

      "I'm going to go tell my wife and get an overnight bag, I'll stay here with you until we find him," Remus told him. The floo flared up and Rob stepped through, also holding an overnight bag.

      "I thought I'd come stay with you while we look for Harry, Molly's in rehab inpatient anyway," Rob said. Blaise was warmed by both of their offers to stay and help.

      "Thanks, both of you, I don't know what I'd do without you," he said honestly.

      "He's like my son, I need to help him," Remus said.

      "I always look out for Harry," Rob said.

      "I'll be right back," Remus promised. Blaise stood to make them all food. He understood that they still needed to take care of themselves even though he wasn't hungry at all. He was so worried. Harry could be anywhere, with anyone, on anything. He might not even know. Blaise knew how fast Harry could get into trouble when he wasn't sober. He just didn't protest anything. He would do whatever anyone told him to do, or take whatever anyone told him to take. The initial decision was definitely on Harry, but now, Blaise knew there could be things happening that a sober Harry would never dream of doing.

      Several hours later, Blaise was pacing the room. Rob was on his phone constantly, checking every source he could think of for possible updates on Harry. They'd sent letters to all of Harry's friends in case he reached out to them. So far, no one had heard anything.

      "Any time now, the clubs are opening, someone will see him," Rob assured Blaise for the fifth time. Rob was just as stressed as Blaise. Remus was the calmest, but his concern was evident in the crease between his eyebrows.

      Sure enough, within the next hour, Rob's phone rang.

      "Hey man," the voice said. Rob had it on speaker.

      "Hey Dan, any news for me?" Rob asked.

      "Yeah, he's here. He's with a big group," Dan said. Blaise was already getting his shoes on to go get his husband.

      "Okay, we'll be right over, you can let us in the back?" Rob checked.

      "Yeah, I would hurry, they're really on something tonight, I don't know how long they're staying," Dan said.

      "We'll be right over," Rob hung up, "It's a magical club, so things get a little bit wilder."

      Rob told them where to apparate to and the three of them made their way over. They were let inside and Blaise got deja vu as he remembered doing the same thing for Molly just a few weeks ago.

      They searched and searched for him. Blaise waded through the dancing bodies and scanned every table. Rob checked all of the backrooms, and the upstairs balcony. Remus stayed close to Blaise. No luck. They couldn't find him. Blaise felt growing panic.

      The music quieted ever so slightly and a booming voice came over the room.

      "How are we doing tonight everybody?" an announcer yelled. The crowd cheered. Blasie almost tuned him out.

      "We have a very special guest here tonight," he continued. "The Boy-Who-Lived, the Golden Boy, the Saviour, Harryyyyyy Potterrrr!"

      The crowd went wild and Blaise whipped his head around to the stage. There he was. On the stage with a large group of people all laughing and cheering and patting him on the back. He was smiling, looking completely relaxed, eyes hazy and cheeks flushed.

      "Welcome welcome back," The announcer said into his microphone, "We've missed you. Let's get him a-"

      The announcer was drowned out as the crowd cheered loudly. Blaise watched in dread as they pulled him out a tray of shots and he took them with his friends, one by one. He started pushing his way through the crowd to try to get to the front. He caught a glimpse of Rob trying to do the same.

      "Quiet quiet quiet," the announcer commanded the crowd. "Harry is going on a very special trip, and he's going to take three of you lucky people with him."

      Blaise's head snapped up at Harry. Harry wasn't even paying attention to the announcer. The announcer started pulling girls up on stage. Blaise's sense of urgency increased.

      "Alright, on three, put your hands in," the man said, producing a bottle of champagne. It glowed in the telltale way that told Blaise it was a portkey, "Off to Ibiza in three... two... one..."

      Blaise's heart dropped to his stomach as he reached the stage just as Harry whipped away. The music resumed and the crowd turned their attention away from the stage.

      "We need to go," Remus yelled over the music. Blaise nodded. He found Rob and they headed out the back door. Blaise was shaking he realized. He was numb.

      They apparated back.

      "We almost had him," he whispered to himself as they entered the house. He stood in the doorway and stared into space.

      "Blaise," Remus said, like he'd said his name more than once.

      "What?" Blaise looked up.

      "Go to bed," Remus said kindly, "We'll find him, there's nothing you can do right now. We just have to wait for him to come back."

      "And if he doesn't?"

      "Let's not worry about that yet," Remus said, looking very worried about it, "We have a week to find him before his absence is noticed."

      Blaise nodded tiredly and trudged up to bed, praying that Harry would make a good choice and come home soon.