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Harry was tired.
It had been a long past few months, a long life really, but especially recently. Everyone wanted something from him, whether it was his time or his reassurances or just to see him. All that energy used on others was starting to take its toll. Sometimes he felt like he was just skin and bones.
He knew deep down that his time was winding down. The end of the war, whatever it was, was coming close, he just couldn’t be exactly sure how close. The dark forces were gathering, and so the light must as well, and Harry was feeling the pressure.
“Harry, Dumbledore’s looking for you!” someone called from behind him.
He turned to see a Gryffindor fourth year and smiled tightly at her. “Thanks,” he said. She looked like she wanted to say something else, probably about the upcoming war or another horrid Rita Skeeter article, and he started off toward the headmaster’s office. “I’ll just go, then. You should probably get back to your dorm.”
When he was alone again, he slowed a little, but didn’t stop walking. Whatever Dumbledore wanted was probably important, even if he still hadn’t quite figured out the way the man’s mind worked. He sighed, feeling more and more tired with every step.
There was always something.