Hold On

Disclaimer: I don't own "Hold On", Good Charlotte does. And Harry Potter...well, if I owned him, I wouldn't be writing this.

Summary: Harry's not dealing with Sirius's death too well. Song-fic to "Hold On" by Good Charlotte.

Warning: Does involve a blade and blood. Yes, Harry is cutting himself.

Hold On

The light in the bathroom glared off the tiles. It was dim, but it was still enough to see by. Harry sighed. His mind was numb, his heart barren, and his emotions were walled up like a dam. It had been like this all summer. If only Sirius hadn't gone...

This world, This world is cold

But you don't, you don't have to go

You're feeling sad, you're feeling lonely

No one cared that he was depressed. Ron and Hermione had actually hooked up this summer. They were probably at Ron's place, getting ready for school. No one from the Order had sent a letter. They were probably all afraid. He was so delicate a child, afterall. The Dursleys were out on a vacation, having left Harry with very few food items, and almost no money. It was okay though, because he barely ate anyway. Ever since...

And no one seems to care

Your mothers gone and your father hits you

This pain you can not bare

And his dreams... His mother turned away from him, or who he supposed was his mom. It was a woman without a face, but he assumed it was her. She told him what a disappointment he was, asking how he could let "him" go like that, and then turning away. She never looked back.

His father had yet to visit him, but someone else had. Voldemort had come several times, to laugh at Harry, mocking him in his agony. Telling him the pain might not have had to existed had he joined him. Each word was like a blow delivered to his heart, driving in more and more discomfort, and pushing out his few emotions.

But we all bleed the same way as you do

And we all have the same things to go through

The blade reflected the dim overhead lights. It was a simple razor from a shaver Aunt Petunia had bought. His right hand lowered to his arm. It wasn't shaking, in fact it was a steady as a rock. He pricked his skin, a tiny drop of blood escaping from the cut. But with the cut went a small amount of the pain. It was slipping away...

Hold on, if you feel like letting go

Hold on, it gets better than you know

He pulled the blade in a straight line down, and then turned it sideways and pulled another short line in his skin. The hiss escaping his lips could easily be mistaken for one of pain, but it wasn't. It was a hiss of pleasure. His pain, it was ebbing away. He was being released from this torture. He would need more cuts to be numb again. He doubted if there was anything left for him to feel. Ever.

Your days, you say they're way too long,

And your nights, you can't sleep at all

(Hold on)

L

And you're not sure what you're waiting for

But you don't want to no more

Harry decided not to make the next one a circle. His hand hesitated for a moment. What was this? Nervousness? No! Seemingly of its own accord, his hand continued. He turned the blade sharply, making a box on his arm. The blood was drizzling off, pouring to the flour with small splashes each time.

You're not sure what you're looking for

But you don't want to no more

O

But we all bleed the same way as you do

And we all have the same things to go through

Metal tore flesh as he went on. Three small horizontal lines, and two even small vertical lines connecting them to the far left and far right. His pain was flowing. The blood was carrying his pain away. But the memories...

Hold on, if you feel like letting go

Hold on, it gets better than you know

S

Don't stop looking you're one step closer

Don't stop searching its not over

Hold on

The blade seemed to be guiding itself now. His pain had lessened immensely, it was almost gone. Just two more cuts. He drew the razor in a small horizontal line, and then connected it to a longer vertical line. His final cut. The blade dropped from his hand, making a dull thud! as it hit the tile and skid away.

What are you looking for?

What are you waiting for?

T

Do you know what you're doing to me?

Go ahead...what are you waiting for?

Harry looked at his arm, the pain finally gone. The word etched there symbolized his one and true feeling. He was in a hole, and the receding light from above had just been cut off. The blackness he swallowing him, and his fear of never finding that light submerged.

Hold on, if you feel like letting go

Hold on, it gets better than you know

LOST

Don't stop looking you're one step closer

Don't stop searching its not over

Amid the blood pooled beneath him fell something else. It was a crystal. No, it was...a tear. Harry's right arm flew to his face. It was covered in the little wet drops. The dam had broken, and there was no holding it back. But, why didn't he feel anything? Guilt? Remorse? Hate? Shame? Nothing... His pain might be gone, but so were his emotions, every single one, except fear. Would he be able to get them back? Surely Sirius would have wanted him to feel something eventually?

Hold on, if you feel like letting go

Hold on, it gets better than you know

Then he felt it. The little bit of emotion, buried under it all. With a heart-wrenching cry, Harry covered his eyes, tears sprouting forward from them. His mind replayed Sirius at the veil. His body floating through, that weird look on his face. The first wave of numbness, and the start to the pain.

He lay there crying for sometime, until he heard a sound downstairs. Must have been his imagination, no one was suppose to be home in weeks. Harry sniffled, looking at his arm, and almost retched. That horrid word told the truth of his life. It told about him before he'd found Sirius, how naive he'd been as a child. It told about him after he'd lost Sirius, and how the pain had taken his to that place. The only time he hadn't been there was when he was with Sirius...

Hold on

Abruptly, the door opened. Dumbledore stood there, his eyes taking in the whole scene. He whisked away the razor with his wand, and came to Harry. He tried to heal the wound, but Harry hid his arm. He had to bear this burden. It was his life, that word, and he would make sure that Sirius's spirit knew it.

Dumbledore seemed on the verge of tears. He pulled Harry close, whispering words of comfort. The only words that Harry actually heard started to echo through his mind. Dumbledore told him that they would help him, everything would be ok. He told Harry to hold on. And Harry's light shone dimly in his mind. He could hold on. Sirius wanted him to. This was a sign from Sirius, telling him not to let go. Those words echoed, rebounded off one end of his mind and the other.

Hold on

And he would. Even if just for awhile. For Sirius.

Author's Note

Yup, Harry cut himself. But someone helped him. So, should you cut yourself? NEVER! There's always another way, even if your light doesn't shine on it. As long as there are good people in this world, your light can keep shining, even if it is just a little dim. There are people willing to help, and the pain can fade, but you have to want it.

Don't ask me how I know, if I'm even right about this. I've never cut myself. I've had friends that do though, and its not so cool to them or me. The best way to deal with a problem is to admit there is one. Talk to someone, they'll listen. Even if it's me. I support anyone whose as lost as Harry.