Emerald Shadows

Harry woke up and groaned. He was so sore. Whatever he was laying on was hard and cold. He opened his eyes. He was laying on a floor. In a hallway. There was light coming through a window at the end of the hall. Harry stumbled to his feet, fighting back waves of nausea. His hands were shaking. He made his way down the hall to see a large room. The bed was untouched. It had white sheets, matching the white billowing curtains.

      He must have tried to get to this room last night, and not quite made it. He opened the sliding doors to step out onto the balcony. He looked around trying to figure out where he was. He genuinely had no idea. He was overlooking an ocean. The buildings and landscape were distinct, he'd been here before.

      How in the world did I get to Ibiza? Harry asked himself. Darla must have taken me here.

      The sun was high in the middle of the sky. One glance at the clock on the wall inside told him that it was already three in the afternoon. He groaned again and went back in the room to fall on the bed. His head was pounding. He dug into his pockets. He felt a pill, and didn't even open his eyes to look at what it was before he swallowed it.

      His head cleared, the drugs sharpening his focus.

      Wait, Darla doesn't work for me anymore, Harry remembered, That was a long time ago.

      Harry sat up, more confused than ever. How did he get here?

      He had to think quickly, he could already feel the chemicals beginning to cloud his judgment. He decided to look around the house for some answers. He found a staircase, and walked down slowly. He found people passed out all over the huge living room. He stepped over them quietly and found the kitchen. There was one girl there who he didn't recognize drinking some water, looking dreadfully hungover.

      They looked at each other, acknowledging how horrible they both felt. He made his way outside again to a lower level balcony and sat down on one of the chairs that laid back. He knew he had to do something, or talk to someone about something important. He could remember. It felt less important, the longer he sat there. He was really tired. He found himself drifting to sleep.

      He woke up several hours later. The sun was setting, and there was music playing in the kitchen. He went inside, to see it packed with people, pregaming to go out again. There were some chips on the counter, so he took a handful. He wasn't very hungry so he avoided the platter of sandwiches. He went to the fridge and pulled himself out a drink.

      The music hurt his head so he downed the first drink quickly and motioned for the quiet guy in the corner to lay him out a line. Those guys all had the same look. Once Harry took it, he felt much better, and eager to join the party. He still didn't recognize anyone, but he didn't care.

      There were games and more drinks. More lines and more smoking. There was a car and then a club. Then a private room. Another car, another club. More drinks and more lines. More pills and more music. More people and more pictures. More clubs and more cars. There might have been a break, Harry didn't know. Sometimes the sun was up, sometimes it was down. It didn't matter to him.

      He snapped into awareness when a familiar body sat down next to him at a table that he had found himself sitting at.

      "Well hey baby," Tyler said, "Didn't think I'd see you out ever again. Husband let you out for a bit?"

      Husband? Harry wracked his brains. He had a husband?

      Blaise. Oh no. Blaise. This was so bad. Reality crashed through the foggy haze of Harry's mind.

      "What are you doing here?" Harry asked, hating how slurred his words slurred.

      "The word spread that you were having a grand old time here, thought I'd check it out," Tyler said, swinging an arm around him, "Marriage problems?"

      "No," Harry said, trying to focus, he regretted the last line he'd taken.

      "Not what it looks like to me," Tyler said, putting his hand on Harry's thigh. "Seems to me like he wouldn't approve of all of this."

      No, he wouldn't. How could Harry have done this? How many days had it been?

      "Sounds like the marriage might be over, and I wouldn't want you to be lonely," Tyler cooed in his ear.

      "No," Harry said again, head spinning. He couldn't think.

      "Harry, you've got to let me in. Otherwise you're all alone," Tyler said, "You messed up your other life this time. There's no one else for you."

      Was that true? Had he messed everything up? Would Blaise leave him? Or did he leave Blaise? He couldn't remember. He felt his thoughts spiraling out of control. The drugs enhanced them, confusing him. He needed to go somewhere quiet, to think. He needed to go home and talk to Blaise and see if it was true.

      If it was, would Blaise even want to see him? What if Harry had said something horrible? Blaise probably wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Harry couldn't believe he had somehow forgotten all of this. He really was a terrible person. Maybe it was better off. This was going to happen sooner or later, it was best that he showed them who he really was early. He was sure he'd lost his job as well, his friends. Surely Ron and Hermione wouldn't want him around. Remus was probably regretting making Harry Teddy's godfather. Rob for sure wouldn't want Molly anywhere around him. And Blaise... Harry couldn't even say the words in his head.

      Tyler kept talking to him, but Harry wasn't listening any longer. Thoughts of what he had left and all that he had certainly hurt were circling like a tornado. His life was crumbling apart, leaving him with nothing, no one, and no reason to continue. And it was all his fault. He deserved it. He noticed Tyler's hand crawling up his leg. He very much noticed when Tyler pulled him into a forceful kiss. He also noticed the way his wrists were suddenly restrained and how he couldn't get away. Fear boiled up inside of him. It skyrocketed when he felt Tyler touching him between his legs, harshly. He didn't know what to do.

      He did know he had to leave. His magic was pulsing at his wrists painfully, driven by his emotions. He didn't want Tyler anywhere near him. He violently shoved Tyler off of him. Tyler just pulled him onto his lap. He'd like to consider the worth of his own life in peace. He'd also like to be sober, but he was beyond that now. He wouldn't be anywhere close to sober for several hours. So, Harry decided to try to make himself feel a little better, and did one more line that was laid out in front of him.

      He stood abruptly, and almost crashed over from his absolute lack of balance. Tyler snickered at him, but thankfully didn't follow him as he left. He didn't know where he was going, but he just had to get out. He found himself at a back door, and the bouncer allowed him to stumble out. He was in the back alley's of Ibiza. It was an island. How did he get home? Or at least to the flat?

      He walked a few feet before realizing he was lost already. He was soaring instead of floating. Instead of the gentle, bubbly, and pleasant haze that had been filling his mind for the last few days, the drugs were making the his mind feel like it was hurtling at a million miles per hour, but also like he was stuck in slow motion, like quicksand was on the verge of suffocating him. The two feelings were jarring and confusing, making him feel scared and disoriented. He needed it to stop. He needed all of the scary thoughts to end. He needed everything to end.

      He made a very questionable decision, and released his bracelets. It was beyond dangerous to use magic in this state, but Harry was terrified and anguished. He apparated, not caring if he was splinched or killed. He didn't even have a destination in mind.

      CRACK!

      Normally his apparations were silent, but this one sounded like a thunderclap. He fell to his knees immediately. He thought he might be sick, but held it together enough to look around. Pain radiated up his arms and legs from the harsh impact. It felt odd and distorted, and Harry couldn't tell if he had actually injured something, or what it was. It was dark where he was. He was looking out over a familiar lake. His lake. Their lake. He was home.

      He couldn't go inside. Blaise might be sleeping, or gone. Maybe he had left, not wanting to see Harry if he came home. Harry stumbled to his feet, falling twice, before managing to walk to the edge of the water. It felt like it took forever, the ground was moving up and down and his legs weren't working correctly. They felt disconnected from him. Once he was there, he felt like no time had passed. He looked down into the dark waters.

      They scared him, just the same as always. He took a step in, feeling his terror, but feeling also like he needed to go in. The water was freezing, and the sensations sent shivers over his whole body. There was weird heat under his eyes and down his cheeks. Again, the feelings were disconnected. Like they were happening to someone else. Like he wasn't real.

      Suddenly, he realized the water was up to his waist. When had that happened?

      Maybe the water was nice, Harry thought.

      It was helping him stand. Maybe he could just lay down. Go deeper. Fall asleep. That would be nice. It wasn't safe, but it didn't matter. It was only fitting if the water would be what would take him out, after all that he had done.

      "Harry!"

      Suddenly, something was touching his arm. Harry looked down, confused. There was a hand there. A hand with a ring. Had he grown a third arm? That would be wild. Harry looked at his hands.

      "Harry, look at me."

      There was that voice again. Harry looked at the hand, and saw it attached to an arm. He looked up the arm and saw a familiar body and face. Blaise. Blaise was here. Seeing Blaise snapped him slightly out of the trance he had been falling into. He concentrated, willing the slow motion and the high speed duel sensations to stop. He wasn't very successful, but he could focus on Blaise's face.

      "What are you doing out here?" Blaise asked him, sounding a million miles away. Harry looked around him to see what he was talking about. Oh right, the water. Why was he in the water? Because he was tired and upset, and he needed a break. A long one. Maybe a permanent one. Why? Because he was a horrible person, and he had done horrible things to Blaise.

      "I'm sorry."

      CRACK!

      Blaise jolted out of bed as a loud noise shook the house. He ran to the window. At first, he couldn't see anything that would have caused such a noise. Then he saw a small figure down by the lake. He peered closer, trying to determine if it was Harry. The figure stumbled, fell, and then fell again. Probably Harry.

      Blaise turned around and raced out of his room, meeting Remus and Rob along the way. Rob grabbed his arm.

      "Wait," he said, "What are you going to say to him?"

      "What do you mean?" Blaise said, anxious to simply check and see if Harry was okay.

      "He's probably not sober, not at this hour, and not with how loud that was, you have to be careful," Rob told him, "We'll wait in the porch to try not to scare him away. If he's using magic while he's high, he could go away at any moment."

      Blaise nodded, "I'll be careful."

He ran down the stairs and out of the front door. He saw Harry facing away from him, walking into the lake. Fear gripped his heart. Harry never went in the lake. What did that mean?

      Blaise didn't think twice about going in after him. The water was freezing. Harry was up to waist level. He called his name, Harry didn't turn around. Blaise splashed through the water to get to him before Harry could get any deeper. Blaise was so thankful for the moonlight. It was almost a full moon. Days had passed since Harry had left. Remus was going to have to leave tomorrow. Blaise had been beyond stressed as the days had gone by with no word from him. There had been no pictures released either, and Rob didn't know anyone in Spain.

      "Harry!" he cried, grabbing hold of his arm. Harry startled and looked down at his hand. Blaise could see tears on his face. Harry looked at his own hands, seemingly not even noticing Blaise's presence.

      "Harry look at me."

      Harry very slowly turned and looked at Blaise. For a second there was no recognition, and then Harry jolted.

      "What are you doing out here?" Blaise tried to ask calmly. His heart was racing. Harry didn't respond. He looked around like he was confused as to what Blaise meant. This level of incomprehension made Blaise worried about a possible second overdose. Harry finally looked back at Blaise, who was trying to be patient. His eyes drifted off to the side, like he was trying to come up with an answer.

      "I'm sorry."

      The words were mumbled and quiet.

      "Let's go inside," Blaise suggested. Harry didn't move.

      "I'm tired," Harry slurred.

      "We can go to bed," Blaise told him, "We can talk in the morning."

      Harry looked devastated and Blaise didn't know why.

      "I'm tired," he said again, looking out over the water. Almost longingly. Blaise had a sudden dawning of understanding.       

      "No Harry, you can't go out there, it's not your time yet," Blaise told him, voice trembling, "I love you okay? I need you to stay with me."

      He was very aware of Harry's lack of bracelets and his possible ability to blast him away if this went badly. He could see the outline of them in his pocket, but he couldn't just reach for them. He was terrified. He just needed to get Harry inside, and get those bracelets on, even though he hated them. He hoped they were the ones that Harry had charmed to allow Blaise to put on him in case of a medical emergency where Harry might not be in his right mind. Blaise felt that this qualified.

      Harry looked at him with hope and disbelief, fresh tears falling from those glossy eyes, "I'm sorry."

      "I know love, let's go inside," Blaise said again. He gently tugged Harry towards him, and Harry didn't protest. They slowly made their way out of the water. The more shallow it got, the more Harry stumbled. Blaise wrapped an arm around his waist and discreetly reached in his pockets. Harry didn't even notice Blaise clipping on the bracelets. Once they were on, Blaise let out a big sigh of relief.

      Harry was shivering violently, and gripping hard onto Blaise's shirt. His eyes were now wild and filling with a growing panic. Blaise didn't know what was in his system but clearly it wasn't a good experience.

      "Hey, you're alright," Blaise soothed, "What's going on?"

      "I can't-" Harry gasped and looked around, "It's moving."

      Blaise had no idea what he was talking about.

      "Hurts," Harry said. Blaise flashed back to the first time he'd ever seen Harry high. Harry said that it had hurt when he had a bad high. Clearly, Harry was in a bad place, and the drugs were playing on that.

      "I know," he said, catching Harry as he tripped and fell. "I've got you."

      He quickly carried Harry to the house. Harry held onto him tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. He started murmuring "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again. Blaise brought him into the living room to set him on the couch. He turned on a lamp. Harry wouldn't let go of him. He wouldn't stop mumbling.     

      "I know," Blaise said. It didn't mean much coming from Harry in this state, but the intensity of which he was repeating it made Blaise feel like Harry was clearly quite upset about what he had done.

      "Rob?" he asked quietly, "Can you check what he's on?"

      Rob nodded and performed a diagnostic. Blaise cast a drying spell on both Harry and himself. Remus sat beside them supportively.

      "Merlin," Rob said. Blaise tensed in fear. "He's got... a lot. And by a lot I mean like eight different things plus alcohol, in varying amounts. I'm surprised he can speak."

      "Is he going to be okay? Do we need to do what we did last time?" Blaise fretted.

      "No we can't, that wouldn't help. That's only for narcotics. He barely has any of that in him. I think it's probably residual from a few days ago," Rob said, "Otherwise, I don't know. This mixture is unpredictable. Luckily, I know all of the spells paramedics would use. So I'll just watch him for a long while."

      "Should he eat? Have water? Would that help?" Remus asked, clearly concerned about the panicked and disoriented man next to him. Harry had stopped muttering, but was shaking violently and looking at the coffee table in terror. He wasn't paying attention to them at all.

      "If he can, but we should be ready for it to come right back up," Rob said, "He's probably hallucinating a little bit. Extreme stress can trigger that with what he's consumed. It's probably reflective of whatever emotions he's feeling right now too."

      "Which are probably not good," Blaise muttered, trying to calm himself, "Considering he was about to drown himself."

      "On purpose?" Remus asked gravely.

      "I don't know how much he was aware of, but it definitely wouldn't have been an accident. And with his history with water, he would have only gotten in very intentionally," Blaise said, feeling tears in his eyes. He blinked them away. They wouldn't help right now.

      "Let's get him in better clothes, and wrapped in a blanket," Rob suggested, "We can't make him sober. He'd probably have a stroke, but we can try to turn what he's seeing into something a little more pleasant."

      Blaise summoned a pair of clothes with intention, without thinking twice about it.

      "We'll give you some privacy," Remus said, standing with Rob. They left so that Blaise could change Harry. Harry was compliant. When Blaise tugged off his shirt, he swore Harry had lost weight. It was only a few days, but a little change showed a lot on Harry's already lean body. He dressed him in the sweatpants and sweatshirt, and then wrapped one of their couch blankets around him. He tried to lay him down on the couch, but Harry protested. He grabbed at the air, clearly trying for Blaise but missed. He whimpered.

      "You're okay sweetheart," Blaise murmured, "I'm right here."

      He settled in next to him.

      "Why do you do this to yourself?" Blaise whispered once Harry was calm in his arms. Calm might have been a strong word. He wasn't squirming, but he was looking at the ceiling, horrified.

      Remus entered with a plate of crackers and cheese. He also had a glass of water. He set it down on the coffee table, and then sat on the other end of the couch.

      "Hey love?" Blaise addressed Harry. Harry took several minutes to look at him. "Do you think you can eat?"

      Harry didn't respond, but took a cracker when Blaise handed it to him. He nibbled on it slowly. He only ate about half of it before he dropped it. He didn't take it back when Blaise tried to hand it to him again.

      Rob entered, "Can you get him talking? Sometimes this is the best time to get him to explain what he's feeling."

      "Is that a violation of his privacy?" Remus asked.

      "Normally yes, but he potentially just tried to end his life, we need to know what he's thinking," Rob said, leaving no room for arguments.

       "What do we ask him? Can he even understand us?" Blaise asked.

      "If we can get his attention then yes," Rob said. He went to sit in front of Harry, kneeling on the floor.

      "Harry, how're you feeling?" he asked. Harry looked at him but didn't say anything. His eyes kept flicking up to the corner of the room, like he was worried about something there, "What's up there?"

      Harry paled, and shrank back into Blaise.

      "You can see it?" he asked.

      "No, there's nothing there," Rob said, "How are you feeling?"

      "Hurts," Harry repeated from earlier. Rob nodded like he knew exactly what Harry was talking about.

      "Your chest? Or your stomach?"

      "Both," Harry told him.

      "That's because you're anxious, and you're upset, can you take a deep breath?" Rob coached. Harry did, his breathing a bit choppy. Blaise brushed a hand through his hair.

      "Can you tell me why you're nervous?" Rob asked calmly after guiding Harry through a few more breaths.

      "I shouldn't be here," Harry whispered, "Everyone hates me. They don't want to see me."

      "No Harry," Blaise murmured, squeezing him a little tighter, "I'm happy you're home."

      Harry trembled for a second.

      "I made you angry," Harry said, words slurring together a little bit.

      "No, worried, but that's okay," Blaise said. He omitted that he had been angry. That was long gone, and if it was going to be an issue, they could talk about it later, "Relax love, no one is mad. We love you."

      "Why are you upset?" Rob asked. Harry squeezed his fists tight a few times, digging his nails in and shaking his head. Blaise took his hands and smoothed them out.

      "I messed up," Harry said, "I'm a bad person."

      "Good people mess up," Remus said, "You're a very good person."

      Harry looked at him intensely, focusing for the first time.

      "Remus?"

      "Yes," Remus said patiently. Harry's brow creased in confusion. He looked around like he was back to reality again. Blaise knew it came in waves. Harry would be more lucid for a few minutes, and then go back into his mind.

      "I don't know what's going on," Harry said in a small voice. He turned and looked at Blaise. Tears filled his eyes again.

      "I'm sorry," he repeated. Blaise stroked his hair.

      "I know, we'll talk about it later," Blaise told him, "I love you."

      "Tyler said you hated me," Harry whispered.

      "You saw Tyler?" Blaise stiffened. His mind began racing with a billion possibilities of what that meant.

      Harry's tears fell.

      "What did he do Harry?" Blaise asked in an unnaturally even voice.  

      "He told me you were leaving me," Harry said, "He- he kissed me, touched me- and I didn't- I left."

      Blaise blew out a breath of anger and relief.

      "Good job for getting away," he said, brushing the tears from Harry's face. He could see Remus turn red with anger. Rob cursed and stood up to pace. "I'm not leaving you."

      "You should," Harry said, "I'm horrible."

      "No love," Blaise's heart was breaking again. Harry started looking at something over Blaise's head, and Blaise figured he was hallucinating again. He didn't seem as afraid this time. He shifted Harry so that he was laying on his chest. Harry didn't protest this time. He laid his head down and closed his eyes.

      "I'm going to scan him again," Rob said.  

      "Why?" Remus asked.

      "He might have just taken something when he left, it might have grown," Rob explained. He read the results of the scan, "Yep, he must have taken a bit right before he left. He's going to go even farther off the deep end before he gets sober."

      "Can we believe him when he says he's sorry?" Blaise asked.

      "It's hard to say. With some people, I would say no. For Harry... he's always been genuine with me, even when he's high," Rob said, "We'll only know when we can ask him when he's sober."

      The trio fell into silence after that. Harry kept watching the ceiling, but peacefully. A few times he grabbed at Blaise's arms in fear, but a few soothing words later he would be calm again.

      Any attempts to try to get information from him failed after that. It was hard to get him to focus, and if he did, any words that he said were completely not understandable. Remus dozed off, so Blaise sent him up to bed. The full moon was coming and he needed rest. Rob hardly looked away from Harry, watching him and his behavior closely. It was good that he was, because without warning he stood and summoned a bucket. Moments later, Harry was gagging.

      Blaise quickly sat him up and positioned him over the bucket, just in time.

      "How did you know?" Blaise asked, rubbing Harry’s back and smoothing down his hair. 

“It’s a look, I’ve been around a lot of people like this,” Rob said tiredly. Not much came out of Harry’s stomach but he gagged and dry-heaved for a long time.

 By the time Harry was done, he was sweating and shaking like a leaf again. His eyes were completely glossed over and there were tears on his face. He didn't seem to recognize either Blaise or Rob.

      "Best to take him up to bed now," Rob said after he did another scan, "This is the worst of it, he'll be fine now."

      "Okay," Blaise nodded and stood. Harry whimpered at the loss of the body beside him. "It's alright love, come here."

      Blaise scooped him into his arms and carried him swiftly up the stairs. He placed him gently down in bed and wrapped him tightly in a blanket. He went to their bathroom to get a glass of water. When he returned, Harry was sobbing silently. Blaise sighed and slid into bed after flicking off the lights.

      "No tears sweetheart," Blaise said, pulling Harry back into his arms, "You're not alone. I'm right here. You're safe."

      Harry burrowed his face into Blaise's chest. His trembling died down and he laid calmly in Blaise's hold. Blaise ran a hand through Harry's hair. He was exhausted too. There were too many worrisome thoughts spinning around inside of his head. But he also felt extremely relieved. Harry was here now, and he couldn't leave. They would talk, and they would get things back on track.

      He fell into sleep quickly, still holding Harry as tightly as ever.