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SIYE Time:6:36 on 19th March 2024
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Restless Heart Syndrome
By notadryeeye

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-Hogwarts
Characters:All
Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Mild Language, Sexual Situations
Rating: R
Reviews: 429
Summary: 17 Years have passed since the fall of Voldemort. Just as the world thinks it has finally started to heal and move on, some things thought long lost begin to awaken.
Hitcount: Story Total: 102988; Chapter Total: 3750





Author's Notes:
Back with a new chapter. As always, enjoy!

And I promise--Christmas will be over soon!




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Harry wasn’t quite sure how he’d made it back to the house so quickly--or how he’d managed to get back up to his room at all. He’d vaguely registered some of the stares from those people who had apparently made it back to the house in the time he’d been in the pool-house office and were now scattered about the kitchen and living room. But he’d paid them no mind and ignored everyone as he’d sped as quickly as he could up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom.


As soon as he’d crossed the threshold of the darkened room, he slammed the door behind him.


As soon as it had closed, Harry finally let out the strangled cry of frustration and pain that he’d been holding in as he flung himself down on the bed.


He grasped at his lower back, letting out another cry with his face down into his pillow--the sound muffled in the quiet room. He could feel the muscles tightening and tensing where he’d struck the edge of the desk. He’d hit the heavy wood desk at nearly exactly the area where he’d broken his back all those years ago.


He wondered if he’d done serious damage again. He’d had to have a second back surgery a little over year after the original injury--he’d reaggravated it while working at his maintenance job. He’d had no real problems since--but the way he’d hit the desk just before was causing him considerable pain and discomfort at the moment.


He hadn’t even thought about what he was doing when he had reached out to grab Ginny’s arm.


At the first sign of her leaving, he’d panicked.


Their conversation hadn’t gone at all how he thought it would.


She’d done most of the talking up to that point.


And as her words bounced around in his head--even as he lay there trying to get his spasming back to calm--he found himself entertaining a feeling he hadn’t anticipated coming out of their talk.


He was frustrated.


But he was actually...angry.


He was angry--not because she’d shoved him--but because of what she’d said to him and the things she’d thrown in his face.


She hadn’t been wrong--about what kind of man he’d been and the things he’d done over the time they’d been separated. Just thinking back on his past made him feel physically ill sometimes and most days he tried not to think about it--instead he tried to separate himself from it.


Fundamentally he understood why he’d been free and careless with himself.


At first he’d been looking for that connection--someone who might fill some of the missing pieces he’d always felt kept him from leading a completely normal life. The first couple of women he’d dated had been actual--real--attempts at relationships.


As his career had taken off and as his habits had grown out of control--and he’d wandered down a darker path--his attitude towards love and relationships and his taste in women had also taken an unsavory turn.


But he had been ill prepared for Ginny to know about that part of his life--let alone taunt him like she had.


In the crazy, fairy-tale dream scenario he’d conjured up in his head, his past was something that he and Ginny would discuss at some point--after she’d forgiven him and they’d gotten back together. But that scenario seemed light-years away and quite possibly was something that would never happen in his lifetime.


Harry groaned again as he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he tried to relax. He wasn’t actually seeing the ceiling however. He could instead still see the look on Ginny’s face as she’d gone off on him.


She’d been angry--furious really. But what was worse was the disgust, disappointment and loathing that he’d witnessed marring her beautiful face--knowing that each and every one of those feelings was directed at him.


He’d caused her this pain, the anger and--even though he’d known his decisions would change her life--he’d caused a change much more greater than he’d ever imagined. And he wasn’t sure that anything he could say or do from this point on would change that.


As Harry was letting his own feelings of self-loathing start to mix in with the stabbing pain in his lower back, he felt the left pocket of his jeans vibrate in a familiar pattern. He’d felt his phone go off earlier--but he’d been too preoccupied with the prospect of talking to Ginny to answer.


Very gingerly, Harry rolled himself into a sitting position. He swung his legs over the side of the bed--grimacing and clenching his teeth as another powerful spasm rocked the injured muscles. He pulled out his phone and looked at the name on the caller ID as it flashed across the screen on the still vibrating phone.


He couldn’t ignore this call a second time…


He took a deep breath and swallowed heavily in an attempt to steel himself and ward off any trace of pain in his voice before he slid his finger across the screen to answer the call.


“Hey, Merry Christmas! How’s it going?”


“It’d be great if it stopped snowing,” a warm and familiar voice replied from the other end. Harry couldn’t help the smile that came to his face despite the discomfort he was currently in.


“ Merry Christmas, Ev. How are you and Sophie doing?” Maria asked as Harry could hear the sounds of people talking and laughing in the background.


“We’re good. We’re great,” he replied, managing to keep his voice steady even as another stab of pain shot up his back. “Just enjoying a couple of lazy days--watching movies and playing in the snow. How’s Virginia?” Harry asked, not wanting to lie any more than he had to about their activities.


Maria and Steve were visiting friends and Maria’s sister for the holidays--as this year most of their children were spending Christmas Eve and Day with their significant other’s families elsewhere in the country. They’d had the Smith family Christmas a week or so earlier and had gathered in Buffalo to enjoy lots of good food, fun and gifts.


“It’s been wonderful. We’ve met up with so many old friends we haven’t seen in years,” Maria replied. “We’re actually having lunch with one of my old high school girlfriends and her husband tomorrow--we ran into them at church.”


“That’s great,” Harry said--this time in a strained voice. He’d been unsuccessful in harnessing the grimace of pain that had overcome him. He held the phone away from his face momentarily as he let out a long measured breath.


“Yes…” Maria replied, not commenting on anything she might have discerned or noticed. “What do you and Soph have planned in the next few days before New Years? You know you two are always welcome to join us these last few days here--”


“Sophie has her dance recital Thursday and I’ve still got some stuff to get ready for the winterim class I’m teaching,” he responded as he tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position. “We’ll have plenty to keep us busy,” he added in what he hoped was a reassuring voice.


“If you’re sure…”


“You know I hate to think that you two are there by yourselves over the holidays,” Maria told him. “Even though we just saw you--we still miss you both so much now that you don't live at home with us.”


Harry couldn’t help but smile at Maria’s words.


He missed them too.


Maria and Steve had done so much for him over the years--welcoming him into their home, helping him through school and in starting his career. And in the last five they’d done so much for Sophie, as well.


He missed having that support system so close at hand every day. But it had been time to move out and start the next phase of his life.


He just hadn’t known that the next phase included the floodgates opening up with all of his repressed memories and all the people from his past being plunked back down into his life like this.


“We miss you too,” Harry replied quietly. “But we’re okay--we’re keeping busy. And--Soph and I plan on flying up for a visit a few days before the spring--semester--starts…”


Harry’s last words were choked and strangled as another wave of pain shot up his back. This time, he wasn’t able to stop himself from noticeably reacting to the spasm.


“Evan, are you ok?” Maria asked. She had picked up on his distress.


“Yeah--” he replied rather breathlessly. “Yeah--I’m fine,” he added, trying to sound reassuring.


But there was no hiding the discomfort and shakiness in his voice. She wasn’t going to let him go with a response like ‘I’m fine.’


“What’s going on?” she asked him, not falling for his brush-off attempt for one moment. “You sound like you’re in pain.”


Harry let out another shaky breath and closed his eyes.


He hated lying to her. But there was just no way around it. She wouldn’t understand the truth...


“It’s my back,” he told her--knowing it would be the only bit of truth he could give her. “I was trying to carry a load of laundry down the stairs and missed a step earlier. I took quite the tumble actually.”


“Oh, Ev,” Maria sighed. Harry could hear the worry in her voice. “Do you think it’s just a strain or a bruise...or do you think you did something more structurally?” she asked.


Harry kept his eyes closed and brought a hand to his face as he breathed out again.


“I’m sure it’s just a tweak,” he told her. “It’s the spasms that are getting me,” he added as he shifted uncomfortably again.


“I was just going to lie down for a bit,” he said quietly. “Soph just went down for a nap--so I was going to do the same,” he added--cringing as he spoke.


“Did you take anything--for the pain?”


Maria’s voice was quiet and there was an edge of nervousness in her words.


“I haven’t taken anything,” he told her truthfully. He knew exactly what she was scared about and he hated that he’d done so much in his past to warrant this worry and reaction from her. It seemed that he just couldn’t stop hurting those he loved…


“And I’m not going to,” he assured her. “I promise.”


“You know I worry about you,” she told him. “It’s small things like this that can be a trigger--a trigger to fall--”


“Fall back into old habits,” Harry finished for her. “I know that. And that’s why I’m going to steer clear. I’m not about to throw away all the hard work over a little fall and relapse.”


“Ice and heating pads are a good place to start,” she told him, going into full-on nursing mode. “And if you need anything at all, call me, ok? We can even come there for a few days if you need to rest up--we can watch Sophie while you take it easy.”


“We appreciate the offer,” he said quietly. He closed his eyes again and let out a long breath to ward off a fresh stab of pain. “I’ll be alright. If I don’t start feeling better in a day or two--I’ll make an appointment--and I’ll most definitely keep you in the loop.”


“Alright,” Maria replied, sounding as though she possibly halfway believed what he’d told her. “But we’re always here. Just remember that.”


“I know,” he whispered back.


Keeping everything from Steve and Maria had been an incredibly hard thing to do. Like the Weasleys and his other close friends in the wizarding universe--the Smiths had time and time again gone out on a limb for him. They’d loved him despite what he’d put them through and were his support system in some of the darkest times of his life.


They’d helped him at every turn to try to discover and uncover his memories and his past--as well as helped him forge a new life and identity instead of dwelling on what he’d lost.


Not being able to come forward right now and share the return of all of that with them was painful.


But how could they possibly believe what he would have to tell them?


They could never believe the truth.


They knew nothing of witches and wizards--of magic and the role he’d played in a war that had torn that world apart.


They’d think he was crazy and had cracked--or that he was on drugs again.


He had a feeling that this reveal might be that last straw and all that they could take from him. And he couldn’t risk losing them, not only for himself--but for Sophie as well. They were Sophie’s grandparents--if not by blood--by every other sense of the word.


If he were going to be present in both planes of his existence then he knew he’d eventually have to find a way for the two lives to merge somehow. But right now, he needed to focus on mending the fences that he’d obliterated with his original choices.


“And we love you both so much,” Maria added quietly on the other end--pulling him from his musings.


“We love you too.”


Even as he said it--Ginny’s words from mere minutes ago popped loudly back into his head.


“Because what you did--what you say you did to protect me--us--” Ginny continued. “That wasn’t love, Harry.”


Could you do the things he had done to the people he claimed to care for and still call what he felt for them ‘love?’


He wasn’t sure anymore…


“Well--I just wanted to check to see how you and Sophie were doing,” Maria said after a few more moments of silence. “If she’s taking a nap I guess I’ll wait to talk to her another time. But tell her we send our hugs and kisses.”


“I will,” Harry replied quietly. “I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you soon.”


“Get some rest,” Maria implored him. “We’ll talk later.”


“I will,” he assured her.


“Love you. Have a good night.”


“Love you too,” Harry said as Maria ended the call.


He lowered the phone as the screen went blank and he set it beside him on the bed.


His whole body sagged as he bowed his head and let out a shaky breath. The events of the last half hour or so had drained much of his energy and he wanted nothing more than to just sink back onto the bed and hide from everything and everyone.


But first he had to deal with the person who had entered the room while he’d been on the phone with Maria. He had heard the latch of the door click open and gently close and even though he’d not been interrupted--he could feel the presence of someone standing just out of sight.


“Sorry...I didn’t mean to intrude.”


Harry closed his eyes at the sound of the voice and brought both hands to his face, rubbing tiredly as he tried to ignore the still-stabbing pain in his lower back.


“It’s okay,” he said through as hands as he continued to rub at his temples. “I just--I had to take that call…” he added in explanation.


“Arthur said he thought you may have hurt your back,” Molly Weasley said as she moved into his peripheral vision.


Harry finally looked up at her with tired eyes and nodded. He didn’t have the strength in him to try to say he was ‘fine’ when he was anything but.


“I banged up against the edge of the desk,” he admitted quietly.


“I’m sorry we were such a distraction,” He also muttered--realizing that he and Ginny had been the reason the pool party had been interrupted. “I didn’t mean for things to get so...out of hand.”


Molly waved a dismissive hand at him as she moved closer.


“I’m not here to probe into anything that went on between you two in that room,” Molly told him as she sat down on the bed next to Harry.


“I’m more worried about your back,” she offered with kind eyes--eyes that were still so much like those of her only daughter.


“I think I’ll be okay after a bit of a lie down,” Harry countered as he tore his gaze from hers.


“No doubt you might,” she told him. “But, even so, I brought something that might help you relax for the time being.”


Harry swallowed heavily and dropped his gaze to the floor.


“Thank you--but I’m not going to take anything,” Harry said quietly. “I shouldn’t--”


“It’s topical,” she assured him as she held out a small jar. “It’s a simple salve that Arthur sometimes uses now that we’re getting a bit older and creakier.”


Harry eyed the jar with hesitation.


The part of him that very clearly remembered the hold of addiction and the struggle he’d endured as he’d tried to stay sober over the past few years was screaming at him to not be so impulsive.


But the throbbing pain in his back was threatening to take over all of that sound thought.


“There’s nothing painkilling in this,” Molly assured him. “It’ll just warm some of those muscles up and help you relax.”


Harry wondered if she’d heard him on the phone with Maria and had understood what they were talking about in regards to her trepidation over him taking medication for his back. He knew that in the quiet of the room, the conversation may have been loud enough to hear without being on speakerphone.


Harry met Molly’s gaze again and something within the depths of those brown eyes told him that she more than likely had. He also saw so much warmth and caring coming from behind those eyes. There was no judgement--only worry and concern over his well-being.


“Ok,” Harry said tiredly with a nod as he reluctantly agreed to Molly Weasley’s offer. He began to reach for the small jar, but she held it away from his grasp.


“It’ll probably work best to have someone else do it,” she advised. “That way you won’t hurt yourself any more trying to reach.”


“Why don’t you take off that sweater and lie down,” she added as she stood up expectantly.


Harry felt himself go red in the face as his pain was momentarily replaced with panic and embarrassment.


“I--er--I...that’s--that’s quite alright,” Harry spluttered as he shook his head. “If you just leave the salve I can manage.”


“Nonsense,” Molly said as she shook her head back at him. “Let’s just make this as easy as possible on you. And besides--you’ve done so much for us in welcoming all of us into your home for the holidays.”


“It’s been no trouble,” Harry said automatically. “It’s the least I can do after all…” he trailed off.


“After all I’ve put your family through…” Harry finished the thought in his head.


“It’s really not necessary that you--” Harry began again, but Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes at him and put a hand on her hip.


It wasn’t a look or stance he’d seen for quite some time and one that had never been levied towards him in all the years he’d known her. It was her mum stance--the one that her husband and any one of her children could tell you was a sure sign she wasn’t going to be putting up with any resistance.


“Don’t be silly,” she said quietly as her visage softened a bit--she was clearly sensing some of his alarm. “I know so much time has passed--and so much has changed between all of us--but I’d really just like to help you out this one time.”


Harry paused, swallowing heavily as she took in Mrs. Weasley’s words. In a lot of ways, time had made them all strangers to one another. But in some other--very important ways--they all still felt very much like the same family they’d become for him all those years ago…


Harry relaxed and sat back on the edge of the bed as he reached for the hem of his sweater.


He’d pulled it halfway up over his head when he paused.


“Do you need it off? Or should I just pull it up so you can get to my back?” He asked as he held his arms up, still holding the sweater.


“It’d probably be a bit easier if you just took it off--this stuff can stain clothes if you’re not careful,” she replied. “And that undershirt maybe can come off too if you’re comfortable,” she added.


Harry wasn’t comfortable.


He’d collected his fair share of scars over the years, that was for sure. But it wasn’t his array of scars collected in battle and beyond that gave him pause necessarily.


He’d done enough on his own to mark and change himself…


And he was not quite sure how the Weasley matriarch would view him once she saw.


“Do you have a spare old towel we can use to make sure nothing gets this salve on it?” he heard Mrs. Weasley call to him as he still had his shirt pulled over his head.


“In the bathroom, in one of the cupboards next to the sink,” Harry said as he motioned to his ensuite bathroom.


He heard her move away and Harry pulled the sweater up over his head--still leaving his arms within the sleeves even as he brought them down.


He sat there for a moment, listening to her opening cupboards in search of a towel.


After a few more moments, Harry shook his head. In the midst of everything else that was happening around him and the greater issues at hand--he was being absolutely ridiculous.


Letting out a heavy sigh, Harry removed his arms from the sweater and laid it on the bed next to him. He sat there in his plain white t-shirt, looking down at his now bare arms just as Molly came back into the room.


“Hopefully this will work,” she said as she brandished a tan towel. “All of the others in the cupboard looked so new, I didn’t want to ruin them...” she added as she looked up.


Her eyes flickered over him for a moment before she fixed him with a bright smile.


“Why don’t you lie down on your stomach,” she told him as she gestured towards the bed. “Or whatever is most comfortable,” she added.


Harry nodded gratefully, his own gaze falling momentarily to his heavily tattooed arms before he gingerly swung himself back onto the bed and lay face-down. He’d expected her to say something--to react in some way, at least. For some reason, he’d been extremely nervous about letting any of his visitors see his arms.


He knew many of them were aware of his wild and colorful past that included lots of partying and travelling around the world. He’d even shared with Teddy and Tonks that he’d had his eyebrow pierced at one point. Actually, he’d had several piercings, hair colors and unique hairstyles over the years--from long, shaggy hair with blue bangs that constantly were falling over his face, to a mohawk.


But he’d also acquired more permanent forms of body modification. He’d started off with just a few tattoos and over the years added to his collection until both arms were covered in complete sleeves that ended around his forearms.


He wasn’t unhappy with the way he looked or what he’d done--but there was a certain disconnect from them now that he was Harry again. He also knew that some people viewed tattoos and body art in a negative light and that was the last thing he wanted from any of the Weasleys.


He was pulled out of his musings by the warm touch of Mrs. Weasley’s hands as she moved aside his t-shirt to expose his injured back. Harry tried to relax, but his nerves--mixed with the throbbing and spasming of his back muscles--were making it very hard to do so.


“It looks like you’re going to have quite the bruise,” Molly said quietly as she started to rub the salve on Harry’s back. He flinched slightly at the touch--the paste was a little colder than he’d anticipated.


But it only took a few seconds for the slightly chilled substance to begin to warm and relax his muscles and some of the pain began to ebb away.


Harry soon found himself closing his eyes, his head cradled in his arms as he left Mrs. Weasley continue to apply the salve with gentle pressure.


“Both Ron and Bill had issues with substances after the war,” he heard Molly say quietly. “We were going through so much at the time and it took us a while to come to realize how they were coping with all of it.”


“Ron--was drinking,” she continued as she stopped with the salve and covered his back with his previously displaced t-shirt. “Bill was in more pain from his scars and a back injury he suffered in the battle than he let on--and he found his own ways to handle things--”


Harry raised his head from where it was resting on his forearms, and looked up to find her replacing the cap of the jar and as she stared off into space as if remembering that time directly after the war had ended.


“I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to walk in on your conversation,” Molly apologized. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. It was private…I shouldn’t have...”


“It’s alright,” Harry assured her as he tried to relax. “I talked to Ron a bit last night--about his struggles and--my own…”


“I am recovering,” Harry admitted as he remembered Ron’s words from the other night. As worried as he was to admit this part of his past to the Weasleys or any of his former friends, he new ultimately they would not judge him so harshly.


“I’ve been clean and sober since--well--since Sophie came into my life,” he added as he lay his head back down on his arms. The muscles in his back were starting to slow their spasming. “It hasn’t always been easy…”


“That’s why you didn’t take any of the drinks you were offered,” Molly pondered as she took in his words.


“I didn’t think anybody had noticed,” Harry admitted. He hadn’t had a problem with having alcohol in house for holidays and was more than happy to ply his guests with drinks. But he’d made it a point to turn down any that were offered to him over the last day or so.


“Even to this day, I tend to keep an eye on Ron’s consumption--all of my children for that matter,” Mrs. Weasley said quietly. “It’s habit, I suppose--even after all these years.”


“Maria was worried,” Harry said quietly as he still lay facedown. “She does the same with me. She’s always watching and checking in.”


“I’m so very glad you have them,” Molly whispered as Harry felt her hand graze and then come to rest on the back of his head lightly. The gesture was comforting--motherly.


“I’ll be forever grateful to them for taking you in and caring for you,” she said quietly. “For protecting you--when we failed to do so.”


All air seemed to leave Harry’s lungs as Molly Weasley’s words sunk in.


She really thought they’d failed him?


Despite his injured back, Harry very quickly pulled himself up from his stomach and swung his legs over the edge of his bed to sit next to her.


“You’ve never once failed me,” Harry told her as he shook his head. “Nobody has--in any way.”


“I’ve always wondered if there’s more we could have done for you,” Molly said in a shaky voice as she stared off into the space before her. “More ways we could have helped so you didn’t have to go through what you did and we didn’t have to lose you…”


“I made it so that nobody--none of your family--would have to give more than they already had,” Harry told her as he put an arm around her.


“Nobody is at fault for anything--except for me,” Harry said with emotion in his voice. “I don’t want you to carry any of that around with you.”


They sat there for a minute or two longer in the quiet--the sounds of the others in the house muffled as they milled about below.


“It means so much that you’re all here,” Harry said quietly. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for you and your family being here.”


Before Molly could respond, there was a knock at the door. Both of them turned towards the sound and saw Hermione standing just outside of the half-open door--with a fidgety Sophie in her arms.


“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Hermione said apologetically as she stepped into the room. “She’s been pretty fussy--”


“Not fussy!” Sophie whined indignantly as she twisted in Hermione’s arms. “Want my daddy!” she pouted as she turned towards the pair on the bed--reaching her arms out for Harry.


“Sophie,” Harry admonished quietly.


“Down please,” Sophie prompted Hermione as she continued to reach for her dad.


“Hey--behave, Soph,” Harry said as he started to get to his feet. Hermione moved close to the bed and Sophie scrambled quickly out of her arms and across the bed to him. Harry quickly sat back down and allowed Sophie to jump into his lap, where she wrapped her arms around his neck.


“Missed you, Daddy,” Sophie said into his shirt collar as she hugged him tightly. It occurred to Harry that he’d been gone most of the day--leaving her with the Weasleys and extended group. Although she’d seemed fine this morning when he’d explained where he was going, he wondered if today had been too much.


“I missed you too,” he said as he kissed the crown of her head. “But you can’t be rude like that. You should say you’re sorry,” he whispered to her.


Sophie lifted her head from her dad’s shoulder.


“Sorry,” she said quietly as she addressed Hermione.


“It’s quite alright,” Hermione assured both Sophie and Harry. “I think she’s just a bit tired.”


“Is that so?” Harry asked as he looked down at his daughter. Like she usually did when she tried to deny she was tired--Sophie shook her head. But Harry could tell by looking at her that she was just about ready for a nap and he couldn’t help but smile.


“Well I’m about ready for a nap,” he said quietly--hoping to coax his daughter into going down for her afternoon nap. “Why don’t you just lay down for a bit with me and make sure I fall asleep? Do you think you can do that?”


Sophie seemed to consider the offer for a moment before she nodded her head and burrowed her face back into his chest.


Harry looked up to find both women smiling as they watched on.


“You could probably do with a bit of a lie down,” Molly told him quietly. “You need to rest your back.”


Harry really couldn’t help but agree. Even with the salve that Mrs. Weasley had provided, he still felt rather sore from his tumble earlier.


“Come on, Sophie-bug,” he said as he hugged his daughter tight and lay back on the bed--pulling them both against the pillows. Sophie automatically burrowed closer into his side.


“We’ll leave you two be,” Molly said with a smile and she and Hermione both moved towards the door.


As Hermione cast one last look at the pair before turning out the light, Harry mouthed a quick “Thank you,” to his friend as she left him alone with his daughter.


He let out a long low breath and lay back on the pillows as he allowed himself to relax. Sophie shifted and wriggled for a bit, but after a few minutes she was still and quiet. She’d fallen asleep despite her protest that she wasn’t tired.


Harry smiled and lifted his head to place a soft kiss on the crown of his daughter’s head before he rested his head back.


He wasn’t sure how long he lay there in the silence--letting his body relax even as thought of the events of the day washed over him--but somewhere along the line he nodded off.


It was only the soft creak of bedsprings and the feeling of the bed moving slightly that drew him out of his uneasy nap.
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