A/N: In which there is banter, more banter, and nothing but banter. All mistakes are mine because I am too lazy to edit this properly. Also, French, lolz.
Harry arrives back at the family tent to find everyone eating breakfast and Rita Skeeter’s morning Prophet article hanging, framed, upon the nearest cloth wall.
“Redecorated, have we?” he asks.
Ginny flicks her wand from her spot in front of the tent stove, tilting the kettle and pouring out three cups of tea. “It’s the latest thing,” she says. “We’re calling it, ‘Rustic Rubbish.’”
“The world was a better place when that woman was just a beetle in a jar,” Hermione mutters, spooning out a helping of eggs onto Rosie’s plate. “Honestly, the things she comes up with.”
“I think it’s brilliant,” Harry’s eldest son, James, declares, sitting up in his seat, his mouth half-full with toast and marmalade. “We’re famous!”
“You’re barely even mentioned!” Ginny argues.
James grins cheekily. “You never mention us at all in your articles, Mum.”
Ginny rolls her eyes. “Quiet, you. Otherwise I’m abandoning you in London again.”
“I want to be abandoned in London!” Hugo shouts.
“Me too, me too!” Lily cries.
Until I started taking my antidepressants, though, I didn’t actually know that I was depressed. I thought the dark staticky corners were part of who I was. It was the same way I felt before I put on my first pair of glasses at age 14 and suddenly realized that trees weren’t green blobs but intricate filigrees of thousands of individual leaves; I hadn’t known, before, that I couldn’t see the leaves, because I didn’t realize that seeing leaves was a possibility at all. And it wasn’t until I started using tools to counterbalance my depression that I even realized there was depression there to need counterbalancing. I had no idea that not everyone felt the gravitational pull of nothingness, the ongoing, slow-as-molasses feeling of melting down into a lump of clay. I had no way of knowing that what I thought were just my ingrained bad habits — not being able to deposit checks on time, not replying to totally pleasant emails for long enough that friendships were ruined, having silent meltdowns over getting dressed in the morning, even not going to the bathroom despite really, really, really having to pee — weren’t actually my habits at all. They were the habits of depression, which whoa, holy shit, it turns out I had a raging case of.
It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling— that really hollowed-out feeling.
Finally finished my Nerdfighter t-shirt quilt!!! I’m so happy with how it turned out!! No one really gets all the nerdy stuff but I know and nerd fighters will know and that’s all that matters to me!! The 2nd one down on the left is DFTBA in galifrey, sadly the camera couldn’t pick it up. I thought the constellation fabric was fitting, and I loved the handwritten-letter print too much not to have it! So grateful to everyone who helped me with this project and to everyone who taught me how to make it! DFTBA