Harry had rehearsed this moment over and over in his mind, ever since he owled Hermione with his urgent request for her to come home from Albania. She was there visiting with her parents when she received it. He was struggling with something Hermione knew nothing about..a dangerous addiction, one that unsurfaced an even more dangerous mental illness that laid dormant in his mind since he defeated Voldemort only five years before. No magic could help him now, he had tried that. He reeled for months over the loss of Professor Dumbledore, and Sirius. But that was nothing compared to what he felt as he heard the killing curse uttered from Rodolfus Lestrange's mouth, saw the jet of green light, and the sickening thud Ronald Weasley made as he hit the cold earth. He heard screams from everywhere, but not because of Ron, they hadnt noticed him yet; they were cries of anger, revenge.
Lives were lost that night; George, McGonagal, Luna, Flitwick – but nothing hit him like the loss of Ron. He was his best friend, and it was that that promted the animal inside Harry..he aimed his wand at each death eater in turn, killing every last one, until only Voldemort remained. He turned his wand on him, and cried the last words Voldemort would ever hear. He hit the floor and the cries of anger turned to whoops of joy. He wanted none of it though..he just wanted to be alone. The pain of losing Ron was too much. He needed to not feel for a little while. He went to his house and called his muggle friend, who dappled in drugs. He knew this wasn't the answer, but he needed something now. He asked him if he could'nt buy something off of him. They met in an alley off Little Whinging. This did nothing to make him feel any better, seeing as he had to pass right by his old house to get there.
He met the man and exchanged meaningless hellos. They made their deal, and he left the alley with a bag of powder in his hand. He wondered for a moment if this was the right thing, but Ron came swimming into his head, and he buried the thought..he needed to gte his mind off Ron, and quick..but that had to wait. He passed by Number four, and every memory of his pathetic childhood came to him. H remembered Dudley, fat and stupid, lumbering after him. He remembered his aunt and uncle, assholes though they were, and smiled. He wondered briefly what had become of them after their awkward departure, and turned on his heel back toward where he apparated from.
xvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvx
Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?
Come on, now.
I hear you're feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain,
Get you on your feet again.
Relax.
xvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvx
As he melted the powder that night, he felt hollow inside. There was a feeling there he never thought he would experience in his life. It was the feeling of total and complete emptiness. He loaded the melted powder into the needle, and shot it into his arm. The feeling was instantaneous. He felt so calm and at ease. Every thought of loss and emptiness were filled, a sort of happy sadness crept into him, and he was numb to anything going on around him. He was unaware of taking off his clothes, and laying on the couch..he was unaware of dropping the needle onto the floor. He relished the feelimg, and at last..he was comfortably numb.