Real or Not Real {Harry Potter}

Fourty One

-This is What the Drugs Are For-

-though i've tried i can't pretend-

-that i don't sit around & think about you-

It was strange not living in the bakery anymore. Bria still rose at early times in the morning, waking up with the sun and the fresh dew on the grass. She didn't live on Diagon Alley anymore but instead on Peakridge St. a neighborhood close to St. Mungo's where a lot of healers also lived.

They lived in a flat, on the third floor, which wasn't the most ideal but Bria didn't leave much anyway. Bran was accommodating, as expected. her room was closest to the bathroom, which originally was his own, but had switched to the smaller room at the end of the hall so Bria didn't walk as far.

He didn't complain when Bria found herself pacing late at night, or when he felt a breeze every time he passed her room because her window was cracked open.

He let her bake to her hearts content, and didn't push her on other matters, like how she felt now that she didn't live with their mother or what happened during the Ministry. He especially did not ask her about Harry, which Bria was the most grateful for.

She didn't want to talk about Harry at all.

Bria spends most of her summer rehabilitating her leg, and while she still has aches after she has to climb the three floors, it seems to be getting better.

Of course, she hasn't used it in a situation where she might be in danger and has to do more than a casual walk, but her leg is improving faster than she had originally expected.

The only issue is that her leg is actually not fine at all.

She has to apply a soothing cream and occasionally a muscle cream on her stump, and Bran has forced her into muscle relaxing therapy so her thigh doesn't get stiff. 

There's bruising along the stump that connects with her prosthetic, and when it turns a nasty shade of yellow Bran doesn't let her put it on.

That means that she can't walk around, and has to stay in her bed and ask Bran to help her around the house. It's worse when Bran is at work and can't help her, and that's when she has to use her cane.

She hates her cane. It's the most painful reminder that she doesn't have her leg. At least with the prosthesis she can pretend like it's the real one.

Bria goes to sleep without her prosthesis and she showers without it too. Showering was more of a learning curve.

At first, Bran had put a chair in the shower, and then had transitioned her into using a rail. She only slipped twice, and when both times happened Bria refused to shower for a week out of embarrassment.

She hates looking at it. She assumes she'll get used to it, like she's gotten used to the rest of the awful things in her life, it she can't bear it. She hates the cold feeling of the metal, or the yellowish hue that her fake foot has.

She hates that there's a piece of her missing, and no matter how superficial and narcissistic is may be, she hates how it makes her feel less like a girl.

It reminds her of the Battle of the Ministry, which reminds her of Harry.

She doesn't want to think about Harry at all.

She spends most of her time painting. It's the most pleasure and joy she's felt all summer. Bran has spoiled her rotten with her art, buying her canvases and brushes and various mediums that she may want to use.