Painkiller - A Drarry Fanfiction

Part 011

"Are you sure?" Harry says. His voice is low through the silence.

I nod. "This is my job. I'm sure there isn't another way to keep you alive."

"No, I mean," he says, the gauze soaked in his own blood balled in his fist, "are you sure I'm magical? Are you sure there's unused magic in me, killing me?"

Tucking the Ministry-provided emergency phoenix tears back in my pocket, I internalize a sigh.

The trifecta.

Denying being magical, dropping plates, falling out of bed.

It means Harry has never experienced magic in more than seventeen years, has weakened to noticeable levels, and has...

"Do you have nightmares?"

Harry sucks in a breath, eyes widening ever so slightly. As expected, it seems like a 'yes.'

I lean against Harry's desk. I can feel the dust under my hands. "Magic exists to be expressed. That nature allows magical people to use it according to their needs, as long as they know how to express it."

The spark in Harry's eyes tells me he's following.

"But that same nature shows up differently in people who don't use their magic," I continue. "It shows up as physical pain and weakness, but also as anxiety and nightmares."

I swallow thickly, watching Harry's gaze fall to the floor. His thumb is stroking where the cut on his finger used to be. Seeing through to him is impossible.

"Do you need time?" I ask. I don't think saying it slower made it any better.

Harry glances at me, then back at the floor. He nods.

Between embracing who you should have been and dying, I wonder why making a choice needs more than a moment. But I don't say that. I nod back.

"You might not have very much of it left," I say, closing the door behind me as I leave. "And I'm sorry for the cut."

/////

I yawn, pushing away from my desk. My neck feels stiff from impossibly slow report writing, hand sore from gripping my quill. Glancing at my watch I read half past noon—three hours since I sat down, one since the Dursleys left for a family outing.

"We won't be back early," they said. "Feel free to make yourself lunch and supper if you don't plan on getting out of the house."

I smiled and nodded. "Harry isn't joining you?"

He wasn't. They said they had asked if he was interested, but I never heard anyone coming upstairs.

Later, now, I'm hungry—and a thought is in my head. The thought has been there since I came back from Harry's room. It made focusing on work rather difficult, and even worse, I still don't know how I feel about said thought, no matter how many times I turned it over in the back of my brain. I think; perhaps it's the genius idea that I desperately need to solve everything at once. Then I think; or maybe it'll ruin things further, nevermind make it better.

I notice my leg rattling anxiously, lips dry out of nervousness. My eyes land on the first line of my week one case report to the Ministry of Magic.

It reads, Harry Potter seems to have built walls thick and tall around himself.

Walls. I could try and knock those down. Besides, how bad could it go?

/////

Harry opens his door, I expected further, but just a little.

I speak to half of his face. "I was wondering if you could show me to the post office," I say, attempting a gentle grin. "Maybe we could grab some lunch while we're out, too? I'll pay."