A.N.: Sequel to Unforgiving and I am wholly dissatisfied with this but my head is aching something awful and I need chocolate in my system so you get what you get, unedited. This will be the second and last part.
So, Harry went home. He packed his bags in a hurry, noticing that he’d left a lot of necessary things at Niall’s house like his favorite shirt and his toothbrush and more than half of his briefs, but there’s no way he could go back; he didn’t even know if Niall would let him in. He bought an earlier ticket to his home town, one leaving the next morning, and he just stayed at the train station overnight, sleeping for short bouts curled up in a chair with his hand fisted tight around his backpack. He slept more on the train but never enough to feel fully rested so, by the time he wound up outside his mum’s house, he’s walking on his last legs.
“Hi, dear.” His mum crooned as soon as she opened the door, reaching out to hug him close. “How are you?” She asked when she pulled back, cupping his cheek with a soft hand. Harry mumbled under his breath, scratching at his hair absentmindedly so his mother looked around for the missing piece. “Where’s Niall?”
Harry stiffened at her words, pulling out of her arms with the excuse to grab his bags and drag them in the house. He turned around and she was still watching him so he sighed and shook his head lightly. “He couldn’t come.”
Harry didn’t really want to continue talking about it after that so he nodded at her one last time before he started to cart his bags up the stairs to his room but, with his back to her, he didn’t notice the wide smile that spread across her face. He got asked the same question at dinner, this time by his sister, but he gave her the same answer.
“He couldn’t come.” Harry mumbled, pushing his peas around the plate at his complete lack of appetite.
“Why not?” His sister pressed and her voice sounded so concerned that Harry couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed by the persistence.
Harry stabbed his fork through a pea, spearing it on the furthest tine before stabbed at another one and his mother murmured, telling him not to play with his food. Harry sighed and put down his fork, looking up only to meet Gemma’s expectant eyes. “He had to go to his brother’s wedding.”
“And, you didn’t go with him?” Gemma asked in a suspicious voice, crossing her arms over the table top as she leaned in attentively.
He didn’t invite me. Harry bit the words back because Niall had invited him but Harry hadn’t been listening. Harry sighed and shook his head, looking away as he finally revealed the truth. “He… he kicked me out…”
Gemma gasped and Harry winced, clenching his fists under the table. “Permanently?” She whispered hoarsely and Harry winced again, scratching at the back of his neck before he shrugged.
“I don’t know…” Harry admitted because he didn’t know whether Niall had kicked him out for good. Niall had just told him to leave so Harry did but he thought it was just so they could both take a moment to collect their thoughts, catch their breath, and work through their problems. Harry knew he’d made a mistake getting physical but he’d had just reason, or at least he thought he did. Looking back, he wasn’t quite so sure anymore.
“Either way,” His mother cut in suddenly and they both look at her as she wiped at her mouth with her napkin lightly. “It’s a good thing.” Harry balked at her, mouth falling open in a gape because he didn’t see how this could possibly be a good thing. “I’ve told you time and time again that boy is no good for you, Harry.” His mother finally looked up at him and smiled through thin lips. “It’s good that you’re getting some distance.”
