*content warning: mention of fire, depression, panic attacks, mention of death*
If you come across a trigger that wasn't listed, let me know. Stay safe.
Chapter 22- Broken Glass
Harry's P.O.V.
"Haz, this is my friend Diana Rose." Aunt Jane's voice is cheerful as her warm eyes travel back to the woman's. She bites her lip before continuing "Diana, this is my nephew Harold..."
Diana speaks up in a soft, tired voice. "Hello, Harold... It's nice to meet you..." She holds out a frail hand, her smile even more fragile.
I grip her hand gently, giving my best smile. "Likewise... and um... Call me Harry." I try to smile at the end.
The blonde woman nods, stepping out of the way. "Come in, please..." I can't get over how familiar her voice seems.
But nobody I know talks like this.
The woman in front of us seems weakened by trials, defeated and the sleepless nights etched into the delicate skin below her eyes.
"Thank you, ma'am." I smile, following Aunt Jane into the doorway, slipping both of the heavy backpacks onto the ground by the door.
And honestly, I'm shocked by the state of the house.
Diana seems like such an organized, neat person.
Oddly, some of the wooden furniture is tarnished from heat damage and it looks like ash remains are on some of the couches.
But blankets pile high on the arms of the couches, the pillows peeking out from under the edge of the materials, one or two strewn across the room.
Empty mugs with used tea bags are placed sporadically around the tables and a tissue box rests on the coffee table.
Everything has a layer of dust and the house has developed that smell when rooms aren't cleaned for a period of time. However there's another smell I can't place.
Boxes overflowing with clothes and feminine looking blankets and pillows litter the stairs, only a small area left for walking. I don't seem to be the only one that notices.
Aunt Jane looks around the small house, just as surprised as I am. "Diana, do you want us to help clean the place up?" She offers, concern etching into her face.
Diana sighs, giving a sheepish smile. "Oh, yes... If you wouldn't mind..."
I hook my thumbs into my pockets awkwardly, shifting my weight as I look to Aunt Jane for an answer. "It's no trouble at all." She cheers, walking to the couch to start folding blankets.
She looks at me over her shoulder, her dark curls spinning with the motion.
"Haz, be a dear and help Diana wash these mugs out, would you?"
I nod once, walking to the table and looping each finger through a mug handle, turning back to Diana awkwardly with nearly eight mugs dangling from my fingers.
She grabs the few remaining ones, giving a sweet smile before nodding towards a doorway which I assume is the kitchen. I follow her readily, anxious to set down the heavy mugs. I pause for a moment in the kitchen doorway, shocked.
The sink is piled high with dirty dishes, every flat surface covered with washcloths and pans. The trashcan is no better with a variety of throw-away pans caked with different casseroles, rotted bouquets, and even a few cards.
She leads me over to the sink, giving me a small and an embarrassed smile.
"I'm so sorry, Harry... Your aunt is a bit of a get-it-done kind of woman... My house is in a terrible shape and I understand if it's too much to handle..."
YOU ARE READING
Broken || h.s. AU (Special Edition)
Fanfiction"Isn't it funny how it's the boy from the dark that helped me see the light?" As celebration of the one year anniversary since the finish of my most popular story, Broken, I've decided to revisit the story in an entirely new way. The new special ed...
