HARRY POTTER DOESN'T BELONG TO ME.
As you read in the summary, Harry is rescued from his relatives. But the order and Dumbledore realize that they pushed him too far. This is after Harry discovers that all through his six years at Hogwarts that Ron and Hermione were not his friends but only were acting to be for his money, fame, knowledge, books and their own gain.
He snaps at them to get out of his life.
ENJOY AND COMMENT!
"You know, you just know that whatever they say is a lie, that you are not a freak, not worthless, useless, attention seeker. A voice in the back of your head keeps telling you it's not true and not to believe the words.
But when you live that moment, when you are being called names which you heard since your childhood, which have echoed in your ears for as long as you could remember, you believe in them. You want to believe that you are everything they call you. You will believe that you don't deserve all the good things that happened to you and all the bad things are because of you.
You keep hoping that you will be whisked away by someone to a place where you are happy, where you get to drink water, eat three meals a day, wear clothes that fit you, get to choose your room and decorate it, but most importantly where you will be hugged, kissed, patted on the back for something you achieved, given a soft smile, a reassuring smile, or a proud one. You hope and hope though you know it would never happen that you will be loved." A bitter laugh echoed throughout the room. The other occupants of the room flinched.
"Praying for something doesn't make it happen, no. I should know, because I have experience. But when you find that respite, that small amount of time you could believe that you are just like everyone else, that you deserve the love, the food, the books, everything you should have been given to you, you are once again thrush into your hell." Everyone was listening with a look of pure horror and shock. He sat up a little straight and looked ahead not looking anyone in the eye. He looked thoughtful.
"Have you ever wondered how or what hell is? I did. I wondered if it would be better than where I live and what I live through. Because tell me what way can hell be more painful than getting hit everyday just for learning, for being curious? How can it be any more dreadful than having your hands burnt purposefully when you are 3 yrs old because you couldn't make breakfast? How much more terrifying can it be than sitting huddled in the dark, fearing when the next lashing would be and if you would die this time?" His emerald eyes looked dull and blank but most importantly, old.
"Just as I was happy, when I found someone who I could confide in, I was betrayed. Yet again, I was alone. But this time, it was different. This time, I was broken beyond repair with my spirit gone and my heart cold."
"You know, I wondered many times if I should have jumped down the Astronomy tower when I had the chance. If I should just die, so that I will have some peace." His eyes burned with barely suppressed fury. "But, I didn't want to. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of breaking me. I didn't want them to feel the triumph of finally breaking the last bit of innocence I held. I didn't have the courage to do it. Suicide is committed by cowards who can't face life, who are tired of it but to actually go through with it, you need courage.
I was courageous enough to face life and coward enough to not want to commit the act." He was silent for a moment.
"I have nothing else to give you. Leave and never ask anything else of me. The world is not my responsibility nor is this war. I will live, I will travel, I will see, enjoy and survive until I am ready to let go. And I assure you it is not anytime soon." When no one else made a move to exit, he couldn't take it.
"I, . I don't want to look at any of you any time soon and never is a day too soon. Out of my room or I will throw you out without a second thought."
"But we rescued you from that place. We brought you here for your safety." Dumbledore said calmly. Harry gave another mirthless, emotionless laugh.
"Rescued? You didn't rescue me. You were the people who damned me to that house. Your order, Moody, knew what was happening in that house but you never came to my rescue until you were sure I would die if they were not stopped. You just needed a figure head, a poster boy for your campaign; you needed a pig, a mindless puppet to be thrown at Voldemort, so that you can be hailed again as a hero. You came for me when you thought I may not survive another day if not healed."
"You came to rescue me a little too late. You should have come when I was 5, being beaten unconscious, or when I was 11 when I was sent back there or 12 when they had to pull the bars on my window to get me out of that house.
You came after what little feelings or whatever they were died and so I wish you luck. I wish you luck to survive the war, win it without me. Now, out. I don't want to force my magic to do it for me.
This is my take on a broken Harry, who refuses to help the Order or fight anymore for the world, more importantly people, that have given him nothing but pain.