Harry Potter was a walking time bomb, setting off the timer of life of everyone around him.

His parents, of course, were the first to suffer from his attraction of death. They had died to protect him. Died. For Him. A waste, Harry couldn't help but think.

Next had been Quirrel. Yes, he had been evil, and yes, he was harboring a dark lord on the back of his head, and yes, he had been trying to kill Harry all year, but still. He had died because of Harry Potter, and Harry Potter had as good as murdered him.

Ginny had almost died; that was his fault too. If he wasn't so famous for his parent's deaths, then they wouldn't have run into the Malfoys and she wouldn't have gotten the diary at all. If he had just made more effort to talk to her, she wouldn't have had anything to write in the diary in the first place. Ginny Weasley had almost died because of him, and he had been almost too late to save her.

Cedric had been his fault as well. If Harry hadn't been in the tournament or hadn't insisted on sharing the glory, Cedric would still be alive. Alive and well, the winner of eternal glory the Triwizard Tournament. Instead, he was dead and now rests eternally six feet under.

This past year had been the worst so far for Harry, though. Luna, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and (once again) Ginny had all risked their lives for him. Tonks and Remus and everyone else in the Order had risked their lives to save them from his own stupidity. The stupidity that had caused yet another tally on the death toll. Sirius. Who he'd been trying to save in the first place. His reckless idiocy had caused the expiration of his godfather. Two years of a smudge of true happiness, finally, and it was suddenly jerked away with his own stupidity. But pushing feelings aside, Sirius Black was just another name to add onto Harry's already-burdened shoulders.

The decision hadn't been that hard to make. After all, the guilt and death that was piled up was more than enough without the harassment from his family. Harry Potter gave in, without a struggle, to the death that had been following him for so long.

Harry Potter was a walking time bomb, and his fuse had finally burned out.

Fin.

word count: 400

reviews are lovely, my darlings.

xoxo, Juniper