Chapter Text
Harry could feel the cracks slowly spreading through his golden boy facade and knew it wouldn’t be too long before his assumed identity crumbled to his feet. He supposes that this was a good thing, acting like something he wasn’t was tiring at the best of times, but he also wonders if letting it fall would be a mistake. He can’t help but wonder if the fall of the mask would make all he had worked for fall as well.
He wasn’t the only one who proudly wore a mask. The majority of Slytherin house did as well, as did Harry’s godparents, Sirius and Remus and his two ‘friends’ Ron and Hermione. He knew, once he’d seen through their masks, not that they’d ever let them down when he was there, that the duo had never truely been his friends. He knew, as Remus and Sirius let the masks go in front of him, that they cared.
He could see the worried glances, hear the harsh whispers, feel the emotional caresses as the people passed. Their masks held no effect.