It’s been three to four months since the Battle of Høgwârts, the event having a great effect on everyone. Especially Harry, the man who had finally defeated Vøldemõrț. But at what cost?

He had developed intense separation anxiety, an hour without you resulting in him breaking down in tears— voices flooding his ears. You were the one who kept him going ever since he saw you at the train 1991. The one who held him together through everything. The one he was determined to marry.

Harry had stayed at 12 Gřimmäułd Place ever since the war, not wanting to burden the Wëaşléys. You would come over at times, though you went home at night to stay with your family — reluctantly leaving Harry alone which triggered his attacks again. Though, he never told you about these attacks, never wanting to worry you.

Present time, all four of you had met up at the Bũrrøw — Molly wanting you four to stay with her for a while. It was 2am, and the house was oddly quiet. George hadn’t stepped out of his room, Gĩnny quietly following Molly around with chores, and Ron awfully silent.

The four of you were sat on the floor, not speaking. Harry’s hand was tightly held in yours, not wanting to let go. Heřmiøne’s hand was on Ron’s arm, a silent reminder to let the man know she was there.