harry ; ;

From the Dining Table

Part two of Kiwi

“I lost it. I lost the baby.”

Harry couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was trapped in his own body. He had heard what you said, but he couldn’t even begin to process what the words meant. 

“What?” Harry breathed.

“I lost the baby, Harry.” 

You waited for a response. There was none. All you could hear was the sound of Harry’s heavy breathing and your own heartbeat drumming in your ears. It was a painful silence, a loud silence that overpowered you. You felt something wet on your face and realized that you were crying. When it happened, you hadn’t let yourself feel anything. You locked yourself away in your apartment, trying to stop yourself from calling Harry. 

… 

You couldn’t call Harry. It had been six months since he released the song, and almost a year since you showed up on his doorstep, three weeks after everything ended between the two of you. Maybe he had a right to know, but you couldn’t deal with yet another part of your life that you had ruined. The doctors told you that it wasn’t your fault. You had done everything right; you took the vitamins, you didn’t drink, you ate healthy foods, you exercised. But everything had gone wrong and you felt like it was your fault. Like the universe was laughing at you. You were at the low point of your life; you broke up with Harry (a fucking mistake that you would regret forever), you lost the baby, you were working a shitty job to pay for the cost of your apartment that you had shared with Harry. An apartment that you could easily afford between the two of you, but once Harry moved out, you were struggling to keep the lights on. You couldn’t take it anymore. You were sick of this. You jumped up from your seat at the dining table and began throwing your few possessions into your suitcase.

A week later, you were sitting at another dining table in another apartment. The apartment was smaller and a little seedy, but you had to take what you could get. You couldn’t be in that apartment anymore. The one where you had so many memories with Harry. The one where you made the baby… and lost it. It was a painful reminder of all your stupid mistakes.

So, yeah. Harry deserved to know. But you couldn’t tell him. Every time you picked up the phone to call him, all you could think about was that song. The song that bared his pain to the world, that revealed how much you had hurt him. You couldn’t face talking to him, not when you could barely face yourself. That was when you deleted his number.

… 

It felt like an eternity before he spoke. As the silent tears streamed down your face, you heard him whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

At that, you started to audibly cry, unable to hold back the emotions that you had repressed for months and months.

“Love?” He said, using the pet name you hadn’t heard in almost a year. “We need to talk about this. In person. We can’t do this over the phone.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

 “I’m due back on Wednesday. Can I come to the apartment then?”

“Sure, Harry,” you said reluctantly. You didn’t want to face him. Not after what you did to him. But you knew you had to. “Harry? I… um… I moved apartments.”

“Oh… okay. That’s fine… just give me the new address.”

You relayed your new address, hesitant to tell him where your new apartment was, as it wasn’t in the best part of London. You were thankful when he didn’t comment, though you knew he was aware of the quality of your place.

“‘Kay, love. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

Shit, shit, shit. You were going to see Harry.


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con te, chissà perché con te era tutto più facile. chissà perché con te un fiore era solo un fiore e un tramonto era mille colori ma era pur sempre un tramonto. la differenza di quando non c’eri era che un tramonto quando non c’eri mi riportava alla mente mille ricordi, e i colori quasi non riuscivo a vederli più. e i fiori, anche quelli erano tristi e perdevano importanza i petali e vedevo oltre, cercando sempre quel qualcosa che non c’era, quello che mancava. facevo una cosa, ma non c’ero mai. mangiavo, sedevo a tavola, sollevavo la forchetta con la mia mano. eppure, quando me ne accorgevo, il piatto era insolitamente vuoto. fissavo quella mano e non era la mia. facevo la doccia ed ero altrove, che l’acqua nemmeno la sentivo, che se non fosse stato che era diventata gelata per quella caldaia ignobile non l’avrei mai interrotta. e non c’ero, sai? non c’ero alla cena di Natale. Non c’ero al suo compleanno, e scusami, scusami se non te li ho fatti gli auguri quel giorno. Scusami. C’ero ma ero troppo arrabbiata. Eppure, non c’ero e l’unica persona a cui facevo del male ero io, ero io che non c’ero. Sai? Non c’ero alla festa perché avevo paura di bere, perché c’era troppo zucchero là dentro e il terrore era tanto e la musica non era abbastanza forte da riportarmi alla vita. Però quando c’eri tu, chissà. Chissà come, chissà. Non esisteva la rabbia cieca, e non esisteva il rancore. E non esisteva che non fossi lì. La differenza era che volevo esserci perché tramite te ero capace di combattere i mostri nascosti dentro al cuore. Perché attraverso te, amando te, io sentivo di potermi perdonare. In qualche strano modo, se tu mi volevi bene, potevo volermene anche io. Che poi è buffo, come se si dovesse chiedere permesso, posso amarmi per farlo davvero. Oggi so che i miracoli non esistono, so che è tutto difficile, so che devo prendere ogni giorno come viene e affrontare il mondo a passi piccoli. E a volte, a volte però ho ancora bisogno di fermarmi. Di fermarmi mentre lo guardo, questo sole che va giù. Senza pensare ai jeans che li sento, accidenti stringono sulle gambe, ma fai attenzione ai colori. Presta attenzione, fermati respira guarda, dico. Attraverso te, io imparo a ritrovarmi. Attraverso te, io imparo a lasciare andare.

Since there were several reviews asking for more in this AU, it’s very important to me, and because LGBTQIAP+ Snape month is incoming, I’ve decided to expand my oneshot Muggle Means. I just posted the second chapter, and will be adding to it consistently for the next two weeks (and longer if need be).

Both Harry and Severus are FTM in this fic, and over time Severus will become a mentor to Harry. I am not sure… if the ending will be happy at this point. I plan to keep as true to character as possible. I’ll post every time I update with a small summary of the chapter.