"Haaaaarryyyy, time to wakey wakey."
Harry groaned and rubbed his forehead.
Was death supposed to hurt so much?
Aah.
Yeah, hell probably would, wouldn't it?
Wait.
"I was supposed to live!" Harry sat up and looked around.
There was nothing. Harry was staring around at a discomforting amount of nothing. It seemed a bit like Harry was lying on a floor made of white mist in a black robe made of mist as well.
And mist would be embarrassing to wear, as he felt rather exposed, if it weren't for the fact that he was alone.
All alone.
Just as he'd worked so hard to avoid.
Harry bit his lip to keep it from trembling and closed his eyes.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Everything he did.
Every single bit of work he did—
All for nothing.
Wait!
Then who woke him up?
Harry's eyes snapped open again and he was suddenly staring at a little boy.
No…
Harry stared hard and realized that it was him- a much younger, much thinner, more feral looking him.
That Harry had dirty clothes on covered in patches, clothes Harry knew he'd gotten from trash bins, and his greasy fringe was long enough to cover a bit of the bright red scar that decorated the side of his face.
"Me? Or… you? What?" Harry blinked slowly at Little Harry. "Who are you?"
Little Harry sat cross legged in front of him with his chin propped up in one hand. "I'm you, stupid," he drawled. "We're two halves of the same soul, ain't we?"
Harry cocked his head curiously at himself.
Little Harry cocked his head right back.
"You're… you're the bit of my soul I put in the knife?" Harry asked. "Why are you so little? I only just did that a few months ago?"
"'Why are you so little?'" Little Harry laughed meanly. "Why are you so damn pathetic?"
Harry narrowed his eyes irritably at Little Harry. "You're what- evil Harry?"
"No," Little Harry smiled meanly with all his teeth visible. "I'm the strong Harry. I'm the Harry that wants to live at all cost. I'm the Harry that took care of our enemies and protected you when you were too weak to do it yourself."
"I'm not weak." Harry got to his feet and frowned down at himself. "So… what? Is this my hell? The ritual failed and I'm stuck here with you forever?"
"We didn't get very tall," Little Harry sneered, ignoring Harry's question. "Suppose it's from all that time not eatin' enough, huh?"
"Suppose so," Harry agreed lightly. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see an environment take shape from the nothing it had been before. He wanted to look around, see where he was, but he instinctually knew taking his eyes off Little Harry would be a mistake. "Where are we?"
"Like you said… seems a bit like hell if you're here."
Harry let out a confused laugh. "What the fuck?"
"'What the fuck?'" Little Harry mimicked him. He jumped to his feet, his movements weren't just graceful- they were lethal. He began slowly pacing around Harry while Harry's head twisted to keep him in his line of sight. "I can see why you think I'd kick your arse," he scoffed. "You really are pathetic."
"I'm pathetic?" Harry laughed coolly and sneered at the smirking little kid. "I've done things you couldn't imagine in your worst nightmares or wildest daydreams."
"You're so fuckin' stupid," Little Harry said with a cruel smile twisting the scars on his face. "I know what we've done. And I know you've ruined everything that once made you great. We used to be strong, now we're pathetic, because of you."
"Because of me?" Harry scowled at Little Harry as he stopped in front of him. "Fuck you. How can you see all the brill shit I've done and say I'm pathetic and weak? I blew up a prison. I created the most powerful gang. I did everything. What the fuck have you done?"
"I killed that boy in the park," Little Harry said in a mocking tone. "I killed Lockhart and Quirrell and Theo's scumbag dad. I killed Avery and Pettigrew and I shot Bellatrix. I helped brew the poison for Umbridge and I killed Dumbledore in a cave. I've killed more death eaters than I can track. And then…" Little Harry leaned forward and smiled cruelly, "And then I made the horcrux, didn't I? And now I'm going to kill you so I can live forever."
What the fuck?
"Make a horcrux of your own," Theo whispered, his brown eyes piercing and intense as he stared in to Harry's. It was a week after Azkaban, a week spent of Harry trying to sort his thoughts and plan how to finish the war. "Store a piece of your soul somewhere so that the other soul can be removed and you can live, Harry."
Harry raised a brow as he read over the research Theo handed him. It was written in a cramped hand, making it hard to decipher, but Harry snorted at what he could read.
"I have to kill someone to make a horcrux."
"And?"
Harry pointed at a sentence Theo wrote. "And besides the ritual being fucking disgusting, I'd also have to either feel remorse for the murder later to reabsorb that bit of my soul or I'd have to outlive all you guys, even Rosie."
"So?" Theo said. "Kill someone you can feel bad for later, after you get Timmy's soul out of you."
"Theo." Harry sighed and shook his head at his brother before handing him back his research notes. "If it's someone I'd feel bad for killing, then I don't want to kill them. I don't…" Harry tried to even think of a single person that he would kill and feel regret for later. "I don't even know how I'd choose someone for something like that."
"Ginny Weasley," Theo said so quickly that Harry knew that he'd thought about it already. "She's fucking annoying, so you could kill her and then once it's done and Timmy's soul is out of you, then you could probably see Molly and Fred be sad about it and feel remorse, right?"
Harry let out a startled laugh and ran a hand through his hair. "You want me to kill Fred's sister? You think he'll be okay with it?"
"Maybe don't tell him?"
Harry shook his head again. "I don't keep secrets from Fred, not anymore."
Theo squinted at Harry. "Does he know about the horcrux and your mad fucking plan to die?"
"Yup."
"Does he know that you're planning on doing it soon?"
"Yup."
"Did you tell him that you've asked Snape to do it?"
Harry froze and his jaw dropped for a moment. "How… how did you know that?"
Theo ground his teeth together so hard that it made Harry's teeth ache in sympathy. "I guessed," he spat. "You're a dick for asking Sev to do that."
"Call me a dick again and I'll use you for a horcrux," Harry snarled. "It's my business, Theo. Piss off."
"Wait!" Theo grabbed Harry's wrist as he turned to leave. "Harry, please. Please think about it. This could be the answer."
"I can't," Harry scowled. "I can't kill Ginny. Fred would never forgive me."
"Lucius."
"What?" Harry blinked at Theo before laughing sharply. "You're mad, Theo. I'm not killing Draco's dad either."
"A random muggle then!" Theo said quickly. "Anyone! Hell, you can kill Neville for all I care! Just live, Harry! Please?"
"Theo…" Harry gently pulled his wrist from Theo's grip and shook his head. "You sound mad. It sucks, this whole thing sucks, doesn't it? But I'm not killing some random muggle. I probably wouldn't even feel bad later and then I'd just be stuck at seventeen forever while you all grow up and die one day and I'd be alone."
He wasn't even going to comment on Theo's suggestion that he kill Neville.
He would never.
Theo's face crumpled and Harry patted him on the back gently before dispelling Theo's privacy shields and heading out to the hall. He had nearly pulled the door shut behind him when he heard a tiny wail.
Not Theo, but Rosie.
Harry's little Rosie.
Harry hesitated and looked at the doorknob in his hand…
He turned back around and shut the door behind him before throwing up every ward he could.
"Tell me more."
"You should have just died," Little Harry cackled madly as he dodged Harry's attack as soon as Harry thought to make the attack. "'Member that comic book? That one we read in the loo at the muggle library? 'Member what it said? 'You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.' You're the villain now, Harry, you're the joker now."
"I don't feel bad about this, necessarily," Harry told his cousin as he traced his neck with his red pocketknife. "I will later, I have to. Later I'll think about your baby, and I'll think about how much you changed and how much good you could do for kids stuck in shitty homes like I was, but not now."
"Quit playing with him and kill him," Theo whispered harshly. "We have to do the ritual."
"This is the gross part," Harry told Dudley cheerfully, ignoring his terrified sobs just as Dudley always ignored his. "See- step one is killing you." Harry smiled and dug the tip of the knife in the side of Dudley's neck hard enough to release a stream of blood that Theo leaned forward to catch in a vial.
"Step two is to drink your blood," Harry told him. "Which is disgusting, isn't it? But I'd rather drink your blood than do step three. Because step three is to cause myself 'unimaginable pain', but here's the problem, Dudders… I've got a high pain tolerance, don't I?"
Dudley didn't say anything, so Harry used the grip on his hair to slam his head against the brick wall.
"I don't know! I'm sorry- Harry- I'm sorry- please!"
"I do," Harry said calmly, ignoring his begging just as he used to ignore Harry's. "And whose fault is that, huh? Yours, and your mum- crack! —and your dad-crack! -yeah?" Harry was panting a little while his blood boiled beneath his skin with anger.
"That's why we're here," Harry hissed to Dudley, "in this dirty fuckin alley. We're here so I can drop my barriers, force myself to feel all those fucked up things I always avoid, because for step four I'm going to say one of those scary magic spells and tear a piece of my soul out to save it for later."
"You're- you're mad," Dudley cried. "Please- I can help you- I know- I know I can!"
Harry and Theo both laughed at him.
"You are going to help him," Theo said softly, mockingly, "by dying."
Harry leaned his head close to Dudley's so he could whisper quietly directly in his ear. "I'll regret this later, but I want you to know that I really enjoy it right now."
"Do you regret it now, Harry?" Little Harry cackled. "Do you regret killing Dudley?"
"I thought you did that," Harry snarled. His fist swung in the empty air when Little Harry dodged it. It was madness to fight himself. Harry was bigger, he should have had the upper hand, but Little Harry was feral and had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
"Are you ashamed?" Little Harry cooed. He swung a knife out at Harry, nearly catching him in the knee. "Going to blame me for the baby without a dad? What was her name? Bella?"
"Annabelle," Harry said. He feigned to the left and swung out to grab Little Harry's right wrist. Little Harry was expecting it and he flipped the knife quickly to stab Harry in the palm, drawing the first blood.
"That's sad, innit?" Little Harry cackled and looked gleeful at the drops of Harry's blood on the ground. "What's her mum gonna say when Bella-Boo starts showing magic? Reckon she'll drown 'er and be done with it?"
Harry froze for just a second as horror filled him at the thought. If Dudley married some woman like his mother…
"FREAK!"
Harry's moment of weakness was all Little Harry needed to lunge forward with the knife in a nearly successful attempt to stab Harry in the stomach.
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" Harry screamed at him after dodging the attack. "WE'RE THE SAME PERSON!"
Little Harry curled his lip up and looked at Harry with genuine dislike coating his face.
"You ain't nothin' like me," Little Harry sneered. "I made us great. I made us powerful and strong. You made us BLOODY WEAK AND PATHETIC!"
"WE'VE ALWAYS BEEN PATHETIC!" Harry lunged at Little Harry and caught him by the shoulders. Harry knocked him on his back and raised a fist back to smash in his face.
And then Little Harry twitched. Harry knew he didn't mean to - never show fear - but there was still a spasm across his face that froze Harry's fist in midair.
"What are you afraid of?" Harry asked quietly, curious over the reaction. Harry had never been afraid to take a hit, never. Harry preferred the pain of a brawl or duel over any other pain.
A bruise lasted for a week then it was gone. A bruise didn't leave memories that interrupted sleep or made Harry want to fly directly in the sun.
Little Harry didn't answer and Harry got the sense that he was about to be stabbed just before he rolled off Little Harry and crouched in a defensive pose while Little Harry jumped to his feet.
Harry took a quick moment to realize it was pavement he was crouched on. Harry straightened slowly and looked around them to try and figure out where he was.
"An alley?" Harry murmured, mostly to himself. Harry looked at Little Harry and tilted his head to the side. "Why would you bring us here?"
Because Harry might have been older, but it was clearly Little Harry who was in charge.
Little Harry narrowed his eyes at Harry and twirled the open pocketknife between his fingers when he answered.
"I fuckin' live here, don't I?"
Harry stared unblinkingly at Little Harry and had a horrifying realization. Little Harry stood straight, but with his shoulders curled in. He had the knife moving quickly between his fingers, hiding the tremble in his fingers. There was a sneer twisting his face, distracting Harry from noticing the thinness of his cheeks, the hollowed out eyes, and the scar over the right side of his face.
Little Harry didn't look intimidating. He looked… he looked pathetic.
Little Harry tried to make himself look strong to make up for the fact that he knew he was weak, vulnerable, pathetic.
"You don't get to fuckin' pity me," Little Harry snapped when Harry stared silently. "I could kill ya, I'm goin' to."
Harry smiled blandly and held his arms out at his side.
"Go ahead," Harry taunted him in a soft voice full of malice. "You'll have to walk toward me though, won't you?"
When Little Harry didn't move, Harry laughed.
"I'm the weak one?" Harry asked him. "You're so terrified of me that you won't even come near me! What do you want, huh? Want me to swear I won't touch you?"
Little Harry tilted his face down to hide the heat in his cheeks while he glared hatefully through his fringe.
"You used ta know we couldn't trust anyone," Little Harry said roughly. "You used ta know we were better on our own."
"We trusted Snape," Harry said. "He never hurt us."
"HE CALLED US BROKEN!" Little Harry screamed. "HE SAID WE'RE SICK AND BROKEN!"
"WE ARE SICK AND BROKEN!" Harry laughed mirthlessly. "WE TRIED TO JUMP OUT A WINDOW!"
"WE COULD HAVE BEEN AN OWL!"
"WE WERE MANIC!" Harry yelled at him. "BECAUSE WE ARE SICK, HARRY! HE TRIED TO HELP US!"
"WE DON'T NEED HELP! WE DON'T NEED ANYONE!"
"You're so naive," Harry said pityingly. He shook his head at Little Harry with disgust. "You don't want us to be alone because it makes us better, you're just afraid of being close to anyone."
It was a rational fear, in Harry's opinion. By eleven, all Harry knew of other people were that they would use him, hurt him, or ignore him.
Harry used to only trust himself, only count on himself. If he needed food or an injury patched up, he had to get those things done himself. It wasn't that Harry never wanted anyone - like the boys at the shelter who worked together to eat and sleep, or the gangs that shared work and rewards - it was that Harry couldn't trust any of them.
Being alone wasn't better, it just seemed safer.
"We trusted Snape and Susan," Harry told Little Harry. "Then Luna and Fred. We trusted Theo and Blaise and Draco. We sort of trusted Ron—"
Both Harry's snorted, both thinking of the time that Ron tried to kick Harry's arse after his dad died.
"We've trusted Remus and we've trusted Sirius," Harry went on. "We trusted Neville and Hermione."
"We used to trust Johnny," Little Harry countered.
Harry curled his lips in a smirk. "We knew there was something wrong with Johnny, did we ever fully trust him?"
The first time Harry met Johnny, he knew there was something off about him. There was something cold in his eyes that reminded Harry of himself. Harry could trust himself, Harry couldn't trust someone who reminded him of himself.
"Fred hurt us," Little Harry said, so desperate to prove his point that he didn't seem to realize how insecure and weak he sounded. "'Member? In fifth year?"
"When he kissed that ugly prat?" Harry asked. "We hurt him first," Harry reminded him when Little Harry nodded. "He was stupid, but so were we."
Harry had been so painfully stupid. He'd seen himself as someone too broken to ever be normal in a relationship and so he ended it. Ending it had been more comfortable than working through the pain until Harry realized it wasn't.
If Fred never snogged that bloke in front of Harry, Harry might never have realized what Fred gave him that Harry craved.
"Fred loves us," Harry said. "And so does Sev and Susan and Luna. Rosie loves us. I know how it feels to be loved, do you?"
He didn't. Harry knew that. What scared him more than love? Love made them vulnerable because it meant they had more people to defend.
But it meant they had more people to defend them too.
It meant they didn't have to do everything alone.
"I don't need love." Little Harry raised his chin and his eyes flashed with danger and arrogance. "I have magic."
"Magic didn't do a damn thing for us when we were hurt," Harry said as he realized it. "Remember Azkaban? Remember how horrible and messed up we were?"
They were so broken after that. Everything had been clouded and fuzzy in their mind and no amount of magic helped.
"Tonks saved us and Fred and Sev fixed us," Harry went on when Little Harry didn't seem to have anything to say suddenly. "What good was magic then?"
"They helped us because they needed us," Little Harry scoffed. "We couldn't kill Timmy if we were fuckin' crazy."
"We didn't kill Timmy at all," Harry said. "For all we know, he's alive and killing everyone."
He could be, Harry had no idea. And that realization did scare Harry.
What if Susan hadn't been strong enough to Kim him? What if she fell apart like she did when she lost her arm? What if Sev ignored his promise to not kill himself after killing Harry and he was gone too?
Harry needed to get back and there was only one way to do it.
Harry tilted his face up to the sky and hoped that it worked.
"I regret killing Dudley," he said. Harry tried up put emotion in it when nothing changed. "I really regret it!"
The only thing that changed was that Little Harry started cackling.
"You don't regret shit," Little Harry said between his mad laughter. "All you cared about was not dyin' and ya didn't care who had to die for you ta live!"
"That's not true," Harry said when a sense of panic filled him. "I wouldn't kill Ginny."
"No, you killed someone who did less mean shite at eight than we did at eleven," Little Harry said with a cold smirk. "Ya killed Dudley for somethin' he did as a little boy. Shouldn't you die for what you did?"
"What the fuck did I do?" Harry asked, mystified. Harry had never been a bully, ever.
"Ya broke Pansy's wand and ya cut Draco."
"Pansy was a bitch and Draco called Mione a mudblood," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. "It was different."
"Was it?" Little Harry tilted his head and took a few slow and measured steps toward Harry while the knife continued to twirl. "Pansy humiliated you and Draco stepped outta line."
"Exactly," Harry agreed. "I wasn't bullying them—"
"They needed ta be taught a lesson, yeah?"
Harry felt uneasy at the way Little Harry was obviously mocking him. Dudley had beat up on Harry for no reason other than he could, Harry…
"It was different," Harry whispered to himself. "It was."
Except Harry knew that he'd win any fight when he used magic. The other students could barely light a wand at eleven, Harry had already killed a man with magic.
"Were we bullies?" Harry asked Little Harry abruptly.
Little Harry shrugged, though the smirk on his face became more pronounced.
"We did what we had to," he said. "It wasn't our fault that they kept fuckin' with us."
It sounded reasonable except for when Little Harry said it, it sounded cold.
"So we've been cruel," Harry said. "But Draco clearly forgave us and who cares about Pansy anyway?"
Draco had been one of Harry's best mates for years after that incident. And it wasn't as if Harry didn't occasionally go off on the others. They all knew Harry had a short temper but they stuck with him anyway.
"I ain't sayin' we were wrong, I think we shoulda killed him," Little Harry said carelessly.
Harry squinted at him in disbelief.
"You think we should have killed Draco?" Harry repeated incredulously. "He was our cousin and our best mate!"
Draco helped them get on the quidditch team and he supported Harry when Harry tried out for professional teams. Draco bought Harry his first broomstick and fought by Harry's side through all the battles. If Harry had killed him for something stupid he said at eleven, then all the brilliant times they shared wouldn't have happened.
"Who cares?" Little Harry was only steps away from Harry and they were surely sizing each other up even while they talked.
"Who cares who Draco became?" Little Harry asked. "He's dead now, ain't he? He's dead and gone forever cause you were scared."
"Bull," Harry said. He kept his hands loose at his side, ready to defend himself whenever Little Harry struck. "I wasn't scared, I had to find the other horcruxes first."
"The others coulda done it," Little Harry said softly while his eyes glittered with spite. "You coulda had Snape kill ya in that graveyard after Trent's funeral. But you were scared and waited 'til ya had a backup plan."
"I wasn't scared," Harry said again. "I had other things to do first. I wanted to find the horcruxes, and marry—"
"You were scared."
"I was not scared!"
"You were scared of dying."
"WHO WOULDN'T BE?!" Harry screamed in Little Harry's face. "Sorry I wasn't thrilled to die! But I didn't cower away and cry about it either!"
Harry did what he had to do, like always.
"We did what we had to do," Little Harry said, eerily echoing Harry's precise thoughts. "I killed Dudley so we could live and now I'm gonna kill you so I can keep livin'." Little Harry grinned widely and it did nothing to ease Harry's muscles that were tensed for a fight.
"Is that irony or karma?" Little Harry asked.
Harry kicked out first, aiming for Little Harry's ankle and missing.
"Never understood the difference, did I?" Harry sneered.
Little Harry charged at Harry with the knife tip aimed at his shoulder. Harry turned and just barely got nicked by the blade.
There was no give or take between them. They were too perfectly matched. Little Harry had a knife, but Harry had years more practice than he did. They mirrored each others moves and continued to swing, miss; kick, miss; only ever occasionally getting lucky.
"I KILLED DUDLEY SO WE COULD LIVE AND YOU'RE NOT GONNA RUIN THAT NOW!" Little Harry screamed. "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING ELSE, BUT I WANT TO LIVE TOO!"
"YOU DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE!" Harry yelled back. He caught Little Harry by surprise when he ducked from a fist and grabbed Little Harry by one of his red trainers. "YOU'RE BLOODY INSANE!"
Little Harry hit the ground flat on his back and the sky began darkening, casting shadows over them both. Harry quickly placed his boot on Little Harry's neck and curled his lip up.
"If I kill you, I can go back," Harry hissed at him.
Little Harry spat upward at Harry and smiled meanly when the first drop of rain fell from the sky.
"I don't deserve to live?" Little Harry asked quietly in a choked voice when Harry applied more pressure to his throat. "Cause I killed Dudley?"
"Because you're happy that you killed him," Harry said. Harry was filled with righteous anger. Little Harry was dangerous and he was selfish. He didn't care about anything other than living.
Little Harry would kill Harry and then burn the world if the fancy struck him. He was a threat to everyone and everything because he was only looking out for himself.
"Guess what?" Little Harry slapped his hand up and stuck the knife in Harry's left ankle before twisting it and driving a gasp of pain from Harry. "I'm you, ya fuckin' idiot. If I don't deserve to live, neither do you."
Harry tripped backwards when Little Harry pulled the knife out with another twist. The rain was pouring down on them and Harry could barely see the eleven year old image of himself through the sheets of rain.
"How do you feel?" Theo asked after they finished the ritual.
Harry inspected his bloodied hands with an odd sense of detachment before looking down and studying Dudley's dead body.
"Cold," Harry said. He took a step away from Dudley and flicked his fingers at the body, lighting it up in flames.
There was a woman that would never know where her partner went. A little girl would grow up wondering why she wasn't worth her father sticking around for.
And Harry didn't give a damn about either of them.
"Let's go home," Harry told Theo when Dudley Dursley was nothing but ashes.
Harry pocketed the knife that held a piece of his soul and he could feel it burning against his thigh with approval.
"You're right," Harry said thickly. He had been holding his bloody ankle and he let go of it so the blood poured freely as it mixed with the rain and soaked the alley they were in.
Harry took a parent from a child because he didn't want to die.
Harry had been so scared to lose all that he worked so hard to build, to face judgement for the things he had done, that he created Little Harry to escape it.
"I was scared," Harry admitted. He held his arms out at his side and his heart raced in his chest as Little Harry approached him. "I don't deserve to live."
Little Harry cocked his head to the side and a flash of lightning exposed the curious expression on his young face.
"You're ready to die?" Little Harry asked. Harry barely heard him over the storm that had his hair plastered to his face and soaked him to the bone.
Harry took a final deep breath and knew that he wasn't ready to die, but he was ready to face the punishment that was surely waiting for him.
"I am."
Little Harry struck out immediately with no hesitation. He took the knife in his hand and drove it directly in Harry's chest, causing Harry to scream from the most unimaginable pain.
It was agony and it drove Harry to his knees while he gasped and his mouth filled with his own blood.
Little Harry stood above Harry and watched with a cold air of complete detachment. Little Harry didn't care who he killed, what lives he destroyed, not if it meant he could live.
"You showed fear," Little Harry said as Harry felt his life bleeding out on the ground. "It made you weak."
Harry closed his eyes and his mind was assaulted with memories…
Sev and Harry chatting in his office; discussing magic and friendships and sharing their regrets with each other.
Susan holding Harry's hand and telling him she loved him.
Harry and Hermione fishing together and giggling over the idea of catching a mermaid.
Luna explaining nargles and wrackspurts to Harry when he couldn't sleep.
Fred smiling like he won a grand prize when Harry said he'd marry him.
The week Harry spent in London with his friends flashed by quickly—
Singing with Neville, smoking with Ron, dancing with Draco, jumping off a bridge with Blaise.
There was Theo, begging Harry to live, and Rosie, staring at Harry with warm love in her eyes.
Harry saw Trent on a jet ski and Sirius on his wedding day.
Every memory that filtered through Harry's mind was coated in laughter and love.
"I saw love," Harry whispered to Little Harry as everything became blurry and Harry swayed. "And it made me strong."
Little Harry didn't understand that being strong wasn't the most important thing in the world. Being strong was lonely.
Being loved had been brill.
Harry opened his eyes with a shuddering gasp. His lungs filled with air, his heart began pumping blood through his veins, and everything came in crystal clear focus all at once.
"Welcome back."
Harry looked over quickly, startled by the voice, and saw his brother sitting in a chair beside him. Theo looked entirely relaxed and it eased some of Harry's initial panic.
It took Harry a few tries to make his voice work and he sounded raspy and weak when he was able to speak.
"What day is it?" Harry asked as he tried to sit up. He bit back a groan at the phantom ache in his chest and began peeling his jumper off to find the source of the pain.
"December thirty-first," Theo said. He handed Harry a glass of water after Harry tossed his jumper on the floor. "What took so long?"
Harry accepted the drink while he leaned against a wall and inspected the scar on his chest. It was a thin and wide mark, a fresh red scar from the knife Little Harry drove through his heart.
It was a reminder of who Harry had been and what he'd sacrificed to never be again.
"It turns out that I'm not great at remorse," Harry said. He took a drink of the water and began gulping it greedily when it soothed the bone dry ache in his throat. Harry emptied the glass and Theo immediately refilled it for him.
Once Harry finished that glass as well, he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.
"Suppose I should go get Severus?" Theo asked.
A ghost of a grin lifted Harry's lips in the corners even while a stray tear trailed down his cheek and he nodded tiredly.
"Yeah, suppose so."