Hey everyone! If any of you remember CryingUke~ the original title of this account, I had several popular (damn the loss of those reviews...) stories, including one of the more recent ones called Hopeless.

Well, tada! Someone did have chapters saved, and so the story can begin again!

But also,

This story is in dedication to

Ninjapirate101

Without you this story would no longer be existing. A world of thanks.

Harry was in potions class, and as usual he was failing on purpose. He remembered the day his report card had been sent home to the Dursley's. He had far outstripped Dudley, and when teachers compared him to his cousin as far as grades? Harry shivered. He had never really gotten past everything they had 'taught' him, despite knowing they were jealous, fearful, and mean spirited people. They had 'taught' him over the years to not get good grades, to be silent as long as possible, never to talk really. It was all keep your head down, nose clean, and don't cause a fuss. But his observations had taught him something. He knew at least how to be sly, sneaky, and deceitful. While these characteristics weren't always fondly looked at, they were always helpful, and it meant that with enough careful phrasing and hiding, he could get away with just about anything.

He didn't really care if these aspects of him weren't really that admirable, or well accepted. Well, they weren't accepted until needed, he thought bitterly. No one wanted to know who had these talents, but when something happened, they immediately sought out others with those talents, used them, and then pretended they didn't know that the person could twist and lie so easily. That disgruntled him. He knew he was truly a Slythrerin but that really didn't bother him much, he knew from the moment he had asked the hat to place him in Gryffindor, and while he wished he could say he was just being sneaky and getting a sneak peak into the Gryffindor's, and playing Dumbledore's puppet, he knew at the time of the decision he had been taken in by their game. He consoled himself with the fact that it only took him half a year to realize what was going on.

Dumbledore wanted him to do everything he was ordered too, Ron befriended because Dumbledore had said to, and because of his fame, but Hermione was a true friend, she just liked showing off her knowledge, flaunting it to people simply put because she could. Ginny had less of a clean reputation, though she claimed to like Harry only, she spent most of her time sleeping through the male population, and Draco was a true ice prince, following every rule but breaking them at the same time.

He stood further back from his desk and watched as an extra rat spleen was covertly levitated over his potion. He pretended not to see, even adding an unneeded back stir as he leaned around to talk to Ron and heard the almost inaudible plunk of the ingredient.

"Potter!" he heard Snape yell. He flinched at the yell, but gratefully noticed that no one had seen it. "What on earth do you call this?" Snape said dangerously. "It's *a dick enhancer*" he said the last part mumbled. "What?" Snape yelled louder. "I said 'it's a sight enhancer, sir.'" Harry said, now speaking through his teeth. He knew further infuriation Professor Snape wouldn't get him any easier of a time. It was hard enough having the life he did. He wished Snape would just back off of him for a bit.

Snape looked suspicious but moved on. "This is a waste of potions ingredients." He stated in a bored tone, vanishing the ruined potion, "And you are a waste of space, get out!" Harry packed his things with a spell and ran for it. He knew he was getting away basically scott-free, especially since he had said the word 'dick' to Snape's face, but the last comment hurt his ego a bit. He decided that now, however; was not the time to go back and tell Snape just what he thought about his opinion.

He thought of stopping but decided against it. He ran from the dungeons, to the great hall, and up the main stairs, he was through the labyrinth of moving stairs before he recognized the path he was taking lead all the way to the Astronomy Tower. His heart pounded as he entered the deserted room, having run up nearly 50 flights of stairs. He slammed the door shut and dropped his bag.

He caught his breath, holding his side which ached painfully. He looked out of the wide window, over the field, and Hagrid's hut to the lake. It sparkled beautifully in the late day light. He sighed and sat on the edge of the window sill. His head pounded, and he felt tired. A idea sprung to him and he pulled his potions things out of his bag. "Dreamless sleep potion.." he read out loud. He may as well do something useful...

Later about a month or so later (after dinner)

Harry sat researching things for his essay for History of Magic, while Ron groaned on and on about having to do work. In all honesty Harry loved reading about all of magic's history, well magic everything. Sometimes around Ron and other's he felt they didn't remember he was raised by juggles. It didn't help that Hermione read faster than he did, and had more time to do so, but he was still close to the number of books she had read.

"I'm going to bed." He said out loud, over the shouting in the common room. While no one was fighting, everyone seemed to find need to talk louder than others around them, that leading to yelling. He quickly packed his stuff away.

"Harry, it's really early, are you feeling okay?" Hermione asked looking up from her essay concerned.

"Just tired." he said faking a yawn and stumbling upstairs.

He truly was a good actor. He sat on the end of his bed looking sad, the door to the boys rooms swinging shut, deadening the shouts from below to the quiet whisper of air against the windows. He couldn't take a sleep potion tonight, not unless he wanted to be in a coma. He wondered if that was really a bad thing. He tried to shake off the thought. He was having more and more of those thoughts lately. He had started listening to them, thinking of ways he might 'accidentally' die. His top favorite was an unscheduled quidditch practice, where he fell off his broom, plummeting to his death. He shook of the thoughts, putting them down to him just being tired, having too long of a day, not enough sleep and so on. He laid back and closed his eyes.

He stood in a long hallway. He saw Dumbledore standing, a welcoming smile on his face, but behind him were dead bodies of all the casualties he had a hand in. Behind him lay his parents, his own family, Sirius, and hundreds of nameless others. Harry was cold, his breathing hitched. Dumbledore just grinned and jovially greeted him, "Come on now Harry, I know what's best. Trust me."

Voldemort appeared at the other end of the hall and he gave an evil laugh, making Harry spin on his heel, eyes tearing away from Dumbledore's smiling face and bloody outstretched hands. "And you thought I was the only evil." Voldemort laughed again and Harry was pitched forward into the black. He felt the pain of both sides. Both sides tortured, lied, stole and killed in the name of their cause. On the list of casualties, one may be higher, but neither was any less vicious.

He woke with a start covered in sweat, and panting. He buried his head in his hands and got up quickly after that.

XXXXXX

It was a full month later. Harry had huge bags beneath his eyes, and he barely slept. The dreamless sleep potion was less effective now and he was irritated easily, and he felt sick 24/7. All he could see were that dead bodies of people, and he heard their screams even in his walking hours. He didn't know if they were imaginary, but they did seem so real. Lord Voldemort was getting stronger, and with each passing day, Harry was becoming weaker. He felt like that phrasing should at the moment be said as every passing hour.

Slowly one night after a particularly bad vision of Dumbledore killing a family he sat up. He knew of the manipulation but not this, Dumbledore had killed the father for death eater ties, but when the little boy had run around the corner Harry had felt like dying as the boy then slumped, slack jawed against the wall, and the mother screamed for mercy. 'Sorry,' Dumbledore had said, 'for the good of society, you all must die.' And she had fallen to lay with her husband and son lifelessly.

"How am I supposed to fight this?" Harry asked hopelessly to the cold darkness of the room. Snoring. He looked to his left and right, at the slumped, tangled forms of bodies, all slowly moving as they inhaled and exhaled. The room was stern haphazardly with clothes and school things, of posters and blankets, games and toys. And in all his years, he had never felt like he didn't belong until this moment.

Slowly he sat up and stumbled to his feet and walked to the door. He didn't look back, for he had nothing to lose. He trudged up to the astronomy tower and stumbled like he was half drunk, his feet shuffling to the edge of the wall. He sat on the rusted black iron bar, his feet dangling high above the grassy field that was Hogwarts lawn.

Their was no one to stop him.

Everyone, please R&R!

I'm working on finalizing the next.

Also thanks to Psycho Seme, who was the original editor, and beta to the story. Thank you.