My first try on a hurt, sad story (for Harry Potter)
Takes place in the next gen, featuring the new Maurauders(Albus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy and Arcturus Black [my oc, see my profile for more information])
For the September Event: World Suicide Prevention
Task: Write a story in which themes of suicide, suicidal behaviour, depression and any of the surrounding issues come into play. I would like it if you could try and write about 'the light at the end of the tunnel' so to speak, such as where the character with the underlying issues reaches a breakthrough or discovers a relationship or friendship that helps. However, you do not have to do this, it can be an angsty fic with no such happy ending if you like.
Ancient Runes, Assignment 6#, Task #2: The runic number of Raido is five, which, just like the rune itself, represents constant motion. Write about somebody who's unable to stop before it becomes too late (you can interpret this however you want).
Extra prompts:
(emotion) Upset/(emotion) Relieved/(word) Pain/(word) Alone/(word) Home/(word) Friend/(colour)Crimson/ (colour) Jet black
Betaread by LittleTee.
I don't own HP and never will.
You are not alone
Rain dripped against the windows of the Slytherin common room when Arcturus awoke. He stretched himself and blew out a few loose strands of sandy brown hair from his face. He turned his head to the left and right to see if Albus or Scorpius were already awake. However, he found only his friend Scorpius, still sleeping soundly in his bed. Albus must have gone to the common room to study. The young Slytherin shook his head, smiling. The young Potter boy was always the early bird of the three new Marauders, getting up much earlier than his two friends, even on the weekends.
Arcturus flopped back down again. Finally, it was the weekend. No hassling by teachers or other students, no sitting in lessons being laughed at by others when he said the wrong answer. Just hanging around with his friends doing nothing, like their role models the real Marauders had done.
Closing his eyes he thought about them. James Potter, Albus's grandfather whom he never met; Remus Lupin, the werewolf and the last of the Marauders for years till he died alongside his wife at the Great Battle of Hogwarts; Peter Pettigrew, the rat who betrayed his friends to the Dark Lord and yet died to help Albus's dad in the end; and lastly, Sirius Black, Arcturus's late grandfather.
Sirius Black, the first Black to be sorted into Gryffindor, breaking the traditional Slytherin sorting. His children that followed weren't any different, being sorted into Hufflepuff and Gryffindor respectively, and his grandchildren (well, the eight oldest) had done great, all continuing the tradition their grandfather had started back in 1971: any House but Slytherin.
Then last year, he, Arcturus Black, had screwed up the perfect non-Slytherin record when that old piece of clothing was placed on his head and had shouted "Slytherin!" The looks his family had given him when he walked over to the Slytherin table. Looks full of ranging from shock to disbelief to mad.
Oh, how he hated that he was ever sorted into Slytherin. It constantly gave other students - and worse, even his own family - a reason to criticize, bully and hate him.
Okay, maybe his brothers didn't exactly hate him but sometimes he could feel their hateful stares and belittling whispers, following him wherever he went.
He opened his eyes again and found Scorpius by the door, about to open it.
"Oh, good morning, Arcturus. Albus and I will be waiting in the common room, so hurry up and get dressed, okay?" spoke the blond boy before disappearing, but not before he had gotten an okay from his friend.
The sandy brown haired boy lifted himself up and pulled off his pajama top. He stopped, his sweater in his hand, he traced with his other hand along the marks on his wrist. Cuts and scars dotted across both his wrists.
Some were old. Some were new. A few of them even fresh from yesterday. All of them from his own hands and trusty pocket knife.
He knew he should probably stop and just talk about it, but the relief he felt from all the pain when he cut and sliced with his knife was just too good. The physical pain defeating the emotional if only for a small sweet moment and in that moment he was free.
A knock on the door startled him.
"Arcturus? Come on hurry up, we want to get to breakfast early, remember? We need to get our plan across as soon as possible."
Right, their plan. He had nearly forgotten that today they wanted to check out some old secret passageways they had found around the Black Lake. He hurried with getting dressed and then the trio rushed to breakfast.
The Great Hall was already full of students, with most of them sitting on the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Looking around he saw none of his siblings or older cousins.
Good, that would at least mean he would be able to enjoy breakfast without the glares and insults.
They finished their breakfast in a hurry, excited to make their plan a reality, but it never came that far.
"Hey Potter, Black, Malfoy! What do you think you stupid snakes are doing!?"
Arcturus's heart dropped into his stomach. McLaggen and his gang. Their tormentors ever since they had started Hogwarts in the last year.
The few students around them began to scramble away. Like they knew, that whatever would be going on, it would be very bad for them to interfere.
McLaggen and his gang circled them, like they always did, pushing them into a corner.
Why was nobody ever helping them? Why was it that nobody ever saw how much the seventh years were bulliyng the younger boys?
"We were just walking along the halls. We haven't done anything wrong," began Albus, defending himself and his friends.
Though their bullies were having none of it.
"I don't think so. I bet you snakes were planning on who to hurt next, right? Admit it, you Slytherins are just waiting for McGonagall to not pay attention in order to bring back the Death Eaters!"
"That's not true!" Interjected Scorpius before suffering from a harsh slap by McLaggen.
"Hey, leave him alone!" shouted Arcturus.
Why was there no one helping them? Where were all the other students?
"Shut up Malfoy, you don't get to talk. We all know who your grandfather and real father were. And you Black, tsk, what a shame you are. I don't even want to waste words on you and that Potter baby. Such great potential and you waste it in Slytherin. Well at least you make good training dummies, right guys?" McLaggen continued, drawing his wand and smiling devilishly.
He and his friends raised their wands stepping back to strike at the younger students and the fight began.
Easy curses were fired from Arcturus's and his friends' side, while McLaggen and his gang used more complex and difficult spells, that reached far beyond the level of the three second years; however, there was one spell they knew would help them.
Three shouts of Stupor later and the McLaggen gang lay on the floor shocked by the spell. But with that came their problems.
Arcturus knew that a few teachers hated them but for their DADA teacher to give them detention. He hadn't thought it would go that far.
First he dragged them into an empty classroom, shouting at how irresponsible it was to use the Stupor spell, then he forced them to apologize to their bullies.
Had the guy not seen what was going on?
Black was near tears, by the end of their teacher's rant. Storming out of the classroom he immediately ran to the next toilet.
Who cared who saw him, running around crying? What he needed now was his pocket knife and to rid himself of everything. To stop the pain. To find relief. Sweet, sweet relief.
"Stupid snake! Death Eater! Useless!" McLaggen's words repeated and rang in his head over and over again.
One slash for each hateful, spiteful phrase. Right, left, and right again.
It felt good. So good. He was rid of the pain.
For now.
It had taken a while for the bleeding to stop, but when it did, Arcturus stood and ((found his friends.
Now they were walking to their detention. On a Saturday. A day where most students were outside chilling at the Great Lake.
"Arcturus, what are you doing here?" greeted an all too familiar voice as the New Marauders walked into the classroom. It was Cygnus.
His older brother sat sprawled out on a chair next to James Potter. Great, just what he needed. One of his siblings knowing what had happened. He could practically hear his eldest brother's scolding now.
"I caught your brother and his friends using spells on other students this morning, " the teacher explained to Cygnus before turning to the New Marauders, "please take a seat and write, 'I will not use spells on other students' two hundred times. No copying spells. When you're done with that you will be free to go."
Arcturus nearly cried out. He knew this teacher was strict and unfair, but this much for just defending themselves?
Worse his family would know of his punishment.
"A Black in Slytherin. I knew this would bring bad luck," he could hear his aunt say, or, "You got detention again?! Why do you always make so much trouble?!" from his brothers.
Couldn't they just leave him alone? He felt sick again. He needed his knife, desperately.
"Sir, I don't feel that well, may I go to the toilet, please?" he asked and the teacher dismissed him with a mere nod.
He was aware of Cygnus whispering something to James while he ran out.
Had the older Black noticed how upset his younger brother looked?
Probably not. He began the same procedure as he had done before so many times. One cut for each hurtful word, spoken or unspoken on both wrists. This time it took even longer for the blood to stop.
By the time it did he had spent nearly half an hour on the toilet and when he came out he was met by Cygnus, telling him that the teacher said for him to come back tomorrow first thing in the morning to finish his task. Arcturus didn't know if he felt relieved or annoyed. Either way his short respite given to him by his own hands and blade had left.
It was Sunday before midday. Arcturus had gotten up early, went to their teacher and finished his assignment. It had still taken him a lot of time to finish and by that time breakfast was already over.
His stomach was growling and he cursed his bad luck as he ran to the library, where he had planned to meet his other older brother, fifteen minutes ago, to study.
"You're late," came the greeting from Draco. His second oldest brother stood with crossed arms by the entance of the library. Anyone could hear how pissed he was, even those who didn't know him for twelve years.
"I had to finish my detention-" Arcturus began, though his brother interrupted him:
"So I've heard."
A simple statement and still so full of unspoken accusations.
He knew what his brother truly wanted to say: "How could you screw up so badly?"
He could already feel that this study session was going to be bad. And if his fears were right, then helping Lupus later in the Greenhouses would go just as bad as this.
...
He came back to an empty dorm room, exhausted and dirty from helping in the Greenhouses and studying. His friends were still out. Albus and Scorpius didn't leave an explanation to what they were doing today.
Where his friends leaving him now too?
Would he be alone?
Well, at least now he could use his pocket knife in peace.
He began as usual, one cut left, one cut right, but this time was different. He cut deeper, wider, watching as the crimson blood leaked out of him, staining his emerald Slytherin bed sheets with the colours of Gryffindor. He would have laughed at the irony of it, if he didn't feel so faint, so tired. Like he was slowly slipping away into a warm stream. Jet black darkness overtook him and he didn't feel anything anymore.
...
Light streamed through his windows. It felt like home, warm and sunny.
The light tickled him, awakening him.
Wait, he was wakening up? He wasn't dead?
Turning his head he looked around. He was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. His wrists bandaged. They hurt, but unlike the other times, this pain didn't make him feel free.
"Oh, good. You're awake. Your brothers and friends will be relieved to hear it," the voice of the old healer had startled him.
Had she said brothers? That couldn't be right, could it?
It was like only now that he realized the four crumbled forms, sitting in chairs next to his bed. With messed up hair and clothes, and tear streaked faces... they didn't look like the perfect non-Slytherin siblings he was used to.
"You know, they stayed the whole night. Didn't want to go, not even when I tried to order away... Your friends stayed too, but I sent them off to breakfast a few minutes ago. They'll be back later," upon seeing his unbelieving face she added, "you really are lucky to have them. They saved your life you know. They won't ever leave you alone now, I think."
Arcturus thought about what the old healer had just said and smiled.
Maybe she was right, maybe he really wasn't alone. His friends and brothers would love him, they had shown that today.
"And," he looked up to the old healer, a tenderness shining through her grey old eyes, "don't keep whatever hurtful things you hear to heart. Whatever it is, it isn't worth hurting or," she paused her face grim, "killing yourself over. .. I know."
Arcturus gasped, waking one of his brothers as he saw the old scars marking the healer's wrist. Meeting her eyes he saw understanding, acceptance, and must surprisingly, compassion.
"Don't keep quiet," she began as she reapplied her glamour, hiding those ancient scars once again. "talk about it. Your family and friends would be devestated if you were gone."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Hey, you're finally awake," Cygnus observed and the healer left to check on another student a bed down from him. "We were so worried for you. Are you okay now?"
"Yes," and he was. He knew there would be arguments and lectures and maybe even visits to a healer later on, but for the first time in months he felt okay.