Chapter Text
Harry hadn’t wanted this to happen. Especially not in front of Draco Malfoy. About a month ago, Harry had decided he didn’t want to feel the sorrow building up inside him.
He had very few people left. First his parents die, his fellow Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory 14 years later, Sirius, Dumbledore, then his first pet (and his only way that he could’ve ever possibly survived the Dursley’s), Hedwig, and a House elf called Dobby. And in the Battle of Hogwarts, countless lives were lost, including Fred Weasley, Colin Creevy, and all the first years, who snuck out to fight.
He had been depressed for a month after the war, spiraling. But he didn’t show it. He tucked it away as if it were a single sock, nothing without the other. He put on a fake smile, focused on schoolwork, and making sure he didn’t let his depression show.
Although, sometimes it would. And, eventually, it lead to him worrying about what would happen if Voldemort came back. What if he didn’t kill all the Horcruxes? What if he can still come back? Like in the Graveyard! What if… What if… What if…
Harry had to go to Madam Pomfrey, he was breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon. She told him he has Anxiety. What just happened was an anxiety attack. She said this would happen sometimes. There was nothing he could do except watch it. Try to control it.
“That won’t work,” Harry muttered to himself, remembering trying to block out Voldemort from his mind. When he asked Madam Pomfrey not to tell anyone, she looked confused.
“It’s better to let someone know! So they can help you through the anxiety attacks!”
“No.”
And she said OK with a slightly worried expression over her face. He knew what his friends would do. Hermione would fuss over him, and Ron would be confused and then concerned, then giving this information to his mother. He didn’t want them to worry. They’ve always done so much for him. Mrs. Weasley especially already had so much on her plate, losing her son.
So there he sat, looking into the fire. Waiting to see if Kreature would come to clean the common room. He couldn’t sleep nowadays. He still had nightmares. Then he started thinking. About what he couldn’t remember. Then it came. The anxiety. His breath quickened. His chin quivered. Tears fell. But then he heard a noise. It was the creak in the floorboard. Then he heard a voice.
“Potter?”
It was Malfoy.
“Potter, what in the bloody hell is going on?”
“Help… Not… Ron… Hermione…Pomfrey…Draco…Please…Help” Harry pleaded. It was worse than ever. Draco just stood there, trying to understand.
Harry’s vision blurred. The room became dark. Harry was swaying.
“Pot-?HARRY!!”
He had collapsed. Harry knew what was going on. But he couldn’t move or do anything. He heard Draco run over. The crackling of the fire. He was still breathing abnormally. Draco summoned a stretcher, and lifted Harry onto it. He carried it out of the common room with his wand and only stopped running when he reached the hospital wing, Murmuring to Harry to hold on the whole way there. When they arrived, Draco shoved the door open and called for Madam Pomfrey. She came bustling into the room, looking alarmed. She saw Harry and gasped. She beckoned Draco over to a bed and told him to lie Harry there.
“I don’t know what happened! I walked into the common room and he was just sitting there, breathing heavily! Then he fainted! I-“
“Draco…”
He turned and looked at Harry.
“Thanks” And he was asleep. Draco softly smiled to himself. Harry looked so peaceful there, his breathing back to normal, slow and steady. He turned back to Madam Pomfrey.
“What happened to him?”
“Ummm…”, The look of pure worry and love in his eyes got to her, “Potter suffers from anxiety attacks from time to time. Aftermath of the war. He told no one.”
“Why?”
“I assume he wanted no more worry than people already have.”
“Idiot” He said, looking back at Harry. “Absolute idiot.”