Nobody ever asked my birthday

Chapter 165

Tuesday started out as a beast. It didn't seem to know how to get better from there, either.

Bad enough that Ron and Lavender were snogging at the breakfast table (couldn't even wait until people had eaten).

Worse, Hermione Granger was being ... well, catty. Insults and jibes that Ron would ordinarily just have laughed off, or at least said something to, falling flat on the table. It got to the point where Harry was considering actually saying something - anything, but, really, he had to ask himself - why bother?

It was just one of those days.

Classes were a chore, and it seemed like everything was colorless.

Harry hadn't a clue how he'd gotten into this depression - it surely wasn't the weather, bright actinic blue and glorious outside. Which just left him wanting a broomride - which would have been lovely if he'd had a free period.

Why hadn't he dropped Divination when he'd had the chance?

Harry knew that Hermione's classes met less often (they did give more homework, but at least that was on your own time).

This was a bleary, dreary day where Harry wished he hadn't gotten up in the morning.

Harry'd thought he might be sick, but he didn't actually feel bad, not physically. Going up two flights and back down again just for the spur of it showed him that much.

It took till dinnertime until he realized what was coming, that was how squashed flat he was feeling. Luckily, no one seemed to pick up on it, so long as he laughed at strategic intervals, and played with his food. Maybe there was a reason some of the girls thought he was "brooding and moody" It turns out when an entire class worth of girls decides to stalk you, it's easy to pick up on minutiae, if you are quiet and know a bit about hiding. This brought the first trace of a smile that Harry'd had all day to his face.

Ginny wanted to talk with him after dinner, but Harry'd put her off, saying that he'd promised Hermione that he'd go practice with her. Gin looked like she wanted to be invited along, but Harry knew better than to put more than one Weasley in a room with Malfoy. There was pushing the envelope, and then there was social suicide.

[a/n: *shrugs* Harry's more of a moody person than he realizes. In this story, he's less angry, if only because he's working on that. Nobody's quite spoken to him about depression, tho...