'The thought of suicide is a great source of comfort: with it a calm
passage is to be made across many a bad night.' -Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzche
'Death destroys a man, the idea of Death saves him.'-E.M Forster
Yeah, I know-Harry isn't quite in character, right? But this is my take on his thoughts when he's at his lowest and depressed. He's a little suicidal and a little loose around the edges. Don't mind his language. Don't blame me either-he made me do it all. I just typed the thing.
This hasn't been beta-red. The beta-ed version will be up as soon as I get one!
A/N: * Italics*
Thoughts at Midnight
It's raining outside. The rain comes down in sheets, just like when I played that game against Hufflepuff in third year; the only game I ever lost outright. You were watching then, as the big black dog. Scared me out of several years' growth too.
I'm lonely here. The Dursleys don't pay much attention to me anyway. Then Dumbledore put a restriction on the house so that Hedwig's the only owl that can get to me. He says it's for my safety. And worse, I only get letters about once a week. Just as well-I'm nothing but a nuisance and a danger to myself and other people.
You know, Ron was right-maybe I love being the hero. Maybe I am a stupid idiot with plenty of dumb luck. No, cut the maybe out-I AM a total fool.
If it wasn't for me falling into Voldemort's trap, then you wouldn't have come to the Ministry, you wouldn't have fought that Lestrange cow, she wouldn't have cursed you and you wouldn't have fallen through that arch. And most of all if I'd just shoved my curiousity and practised Occlumency like I should've, Voldemort wouldn't be intruding and I wouldn't even know what was behind that door, why it was so dangerous. That sick, twisted malevolent manipulative snake-son of a f****** b****! And it wasn't you alone who got injured or killed either-I just had to drag in several members of the Order, Lupin and my own friends as well! I am a stupid prat.
And damn Trelawney for making that prophecy as well. Why me? Why not Neville for once? Stupid, STUPID thing! Why? WHY? It isn't fair! Because of it, I don't have control over my own life; it feels as if there's always something else behind everything I do nowadays-something that isn't me, Harry James Potter. Because of that stupid prophecy, a load of gas, I lost my parents and I lost you, Sirius. All my hopes of living with you when you were free were dashed. I've lost all my true family, blood ties be damned. Petunia's never truly treated me like a member of her family, not that I'd like it.
Now I keep on thinking, and there are so many things that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been born. You'd still be alive, my parents would be alive, Cedric would be alive, Cho would be happy with him. So many things would be better if I didn't exist. Sometimes I'm tempted to think that I'm a ghastly cosmic mistake.
I miss you Sirius. Why oh why did you have to come after me? I didn't want to hurt you, much less get you killed. Why did you do it? I can take care of myself; I managed to get away from Voldemort before on my own. Now you're dead. I couldn't even see you before the funeral, when they laid an empty casket to rest. There wasn't any body to bury, it was just gone, there's nothing for me to even cry over. I couldn't even say goodbye properly.
Who can I go to now when I need help or advice? Who's going to worry that I've lost weight or got injured in a Quidditch match? Who am I going to talk to now when I'm down or alone? Who's going to smooth over my worries for the future and crack jokes to make me smile? Who's going to come over and threaten to hex Vernon into the ground if he so much looks at me funny? I know there's still Professor Lupin and Dumbledore, but it just isn't the same, you know. That night in the Shack, I felt something special. For once I had real family, someone I could say actually cared for me. Now you're gone, and it's gone too, the feeling, the connection. Professor Lupin, he's got enough worries, like Dumbledore. And Hermione doesn't let on much, but she's hinted that Professor Lupin hasn't been himself lately; something about being colder and more irritable than Snape, if that's possible. Your- passing-loosened some nuts, she thinks. Or seems to anyway. I don't know what to think anymore, I'm numb, I can't feel anything.
I'm just tired, so tired of all this. If I'd known all this would happen, that people would die or get hurt because of me, I'd have taken the other choice and stayed a Muggle, continue getting the third degree from Uncle Vernon, getting Dudley's insults, becoming his punching bag... Being Aunt Petunia's servant would've been better, even. If only I could fix all this.
My life isn't worth much now. Not with every other Death Eater coming after me on their *Lord*'s orders. I'm a danger to everyone I know. Cedric was the first. Now you. How long is it going to be before it's one of the Weasleys? Or Hermione and her family? Or others I'm on nodding terms with? How many more will die because of that night in the graveyard?
I'm sick of this poor excuse I call *my life*. I'm sick of looking over my shoulder, sick of seeing reports of mysterious Muggle deaths in the news, worn out from worrying about my friends, wondering if this letter or present I get will be the last I have of them. I'm fed-up and angry for being treated like the last of an endangered species. I'm disgusted with living. Hell, this isn't living. I'm a caged animal! I just want to drop dead and rot away.
I've come across this idea. Maybe if Voldemort didn't exist, I wouldn't need to be here. Everything bad that I've caused wouldn't have happened, which brings me back to that f****** snake. In that prophecy, Trelawney or whatever spirit was speaking through her, said that I have to kill Voldemort, or that he would have to kill me.
*'Neither can live while the other survives.'* Perfect. I just have to get rid of Voldemort. Better still, I'll get rid of him, and let him kill me too at the same time. Sickening really, giving him what he wants, but I'd rather let him do it. He started it, so he can finish it. Life's no good when you don't have anyone else you love anymore. At that point death is a blessing. Of course there's that little problem with your dear cousin, but I swear that when I'm done with her, she'll wish she'd stayed in the filth she crawled out from.
When I kill that piece of vermin, much as I loathe the thought, then I'll come join you and Mum and Dad. I wonder if you're having a good time on the other side, or if you can see me. Anyway just wait. It won't be long now. If Voldemort gets me, I'll take him with me. And before that, Bellatrix Lestrange will be receiving a lesson on why it's not good to mess with me.
It's a few minutes past midnight, and it's my sixteenth birthday. Normally I'd be waiting for your present, which won't be coming I guess. Because you're dead. But if everything goes right.
If everything goes right. Maybe we'll be celebrating my eighteenth, together with Mum and Dad if they're there.
I've felt for some days now that I won't be seeing my eighteenth birthday here. It's gotten stronger. Once I've done what I'm supposed to do, I'll be coming to you.
All we have to do.is wait. Till then, goodbye Sirius. I'll miss you.
Yeah, I know-Harry isn't quite in character, right? But this is my take on his thoughts when he's at his lowest and depressed. He's a little suicidal and a little loose around the edges. Don't mind his language. Don't blame me either-he made me do it all. I just typed the thing.
This hasn't been beta-red. The beta-ed version will be up as soon as I get one!
A/N: * Italics*
Thoughts at Midnight
It's raining outside. The rain comes down in sheets, just like when I played that game against Hufflepuff in third year; the only game I ever lost outright. You were watching then, as the big black dog. Scared me out of several years' growth too.
I'm lonely here. The Dursleys don't pay much attention to me anyway. Then Dumbledore put a restriction on the house so that Hedwig's the only owl that can get to me. He says it's for my safety. And worse, I only get letters about once a week. Just as well-I'm nothing but a nuisance and a danger to myself and other people.
You know, Ron was right-maybe I love being the hero. Maybe I am a stupid idiot with plenty of dumb luck. No, cut the maybe out-I AM a total fool.
If it wasn't for me falling into Voldemort's trap, then you wouldn't have come to the Ministry, you wouldn't have fought that Lestrange cow, she wouldn't have cursed you and you wouldn't have fallen through that arch. And most of all if I'd just shoved my curiousity and practised Occlumency like I should've, Voldemort wouldn't be intruding and I wouldn't even know what was behind that door, why it was so dangerous. That sick, twisted malevolent manipulative snake-son of a f****** b****! And it wasn't you alone who got injured or killed either-I just had to drag in several members of the Order, Lupin and my own friends as well! I am a stupid prat.
And damn Trelawney for making that prophecy as well. Why me? Why not Neville for once? Stupid, STUPID thing! Why? WHY? It isn't fair! Because of it, I don't have control over my own life; it feels as if there's always something else behind everything I do nowadays-something that isn't me, Harry James Potter. Because of that stupid prophecy, a load of gas, I lost my parents and I lost you, Sirius. All my hopes of living with you when you were free were dashed. I've lost all my true family, blood ties be damned. Petunia's never truly treated me like a member of her family, not that I'd like it.
Now I keep on thinking, and there are so many things that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been born. You'd still be alive, my parents would be alive, Cedric would be alive, Cho would be happy with him. So many things would be better if I didn't exist. Sometimes I'm tempted to think that I'm a ghastly cosmic mistake.
I miss you Sirius. Why oh why did you have to come after me? I didn't want to hurt you, much less get you killed. Why did you do it? I can take care of myself; I managed to get away from Voldemort before on my own. Now you're dead. I couldn't even see you before the funeral, when they laid an empty casket to rest. There wasn't any body to bury, it was just gone, there's nothing for me to even cry over. I couldn't even say goodbye properly.
Who can I go to now when I need help or advice? Who's going to worry that I've lost weight or got injured in a Quidditch match? Who am I going to talk to now when I'm down or alone? Who's going to smooth over my worries for the future and crack jokes to make me smile? Who's going to come over and threaten to hex Vernon into the ground if he so much looks at me funny? I know there's still Professor Lupin and Dumbledore, but it just isn't the same, you know. That night in the Shack, I felt something special. For once I had real family, someone I could say actually cared for me. Now you're gone, and it's gone too, the feeling, the connection. Professor Lupin, he's got enough worries, like Dumbledore. And Hermione doesn't let on much, but she's hinted that Professor Lupin hasn't been himself lately; something about being colder and more irritable than Snape, if that's possible. Your- passing-loosened some nuts, she thinks. Or seems to anyway. I don't know what to think anymore, I'm numb, I can't feel anything.
I'm just tired, so tired of all this. If I'd known all this would happen, that people would die or get hurt because of me, I'd have taken the other choice and stayed a Muggle, continue getting the third degree from Uncle Vernon, getting Dudley's insults, becoming his punching bag... Being Aunt Petunia's servant would've been better, even. If only I could fix all this.
My life isn't worth much now. Not with every other Death Eater coming after me on their *Lord*'s orders. I'm a danger to everyone I know. Cedric was the first. Now you. How long is it going to be before it's one of the Weasleys? Or Hermione and her family? Or others I'm on nodding terms with? How many more will die because of that night in the graveyard?
I'm sick of this poor excuse I call *my life*. I'm sick of looking over my shoulder, sick of seeing reports of mysterious Muggle deaths in the news, worn out from worrying about my friends, wondering if this letter or present I get will be the last I have of them. I'm fed-up and angry for being treated like the last of an endangered species. I'm disgusted with living. Hell, this isn't living. I'm a caged animal! I just want to drop dead and rot away.
I've come across this idea. Maybe if Voldemort didn't exist, I wouldn't need to be here. Everything bad that I've caused wouldn't have happened, which brings me back to that f****** snake. In that prophecy, Trelawney or whatever spirit was speaking through her, said that I have to kill Voldemort, or that he would have to kill me.
*'Neither can live while the other survives.'* Perfect. I just have to get rid of Voldemort. Better still, I'll get rid of him, and let him kill me too at the same time. Sickening really, giving him what he wants, but I'd rather let him do it. He started it, so he can finish it. Life's no good when you don't have anyone else you love anymore. At that point death is a blessing. Of course there's that little problem with your dear cousin, but I swear that when I'm done with her, she'll wish she'd stayed in the filth she crawled out from.
When I kill that piece of vermin, much as I loathe the thought, then I'll come join you and Mum and Dad. I wonder if you're having a good time on the other side, or if you can see me. Anyway just wait. It won't be long now. If Voldemort gets me, I'll take him with me. And before that, Bellatrix Lestrange will be receiving a lesson on why it's not good to mess with me.
It's a few minutes past midnight, and it's my sixteenth birthday. Normally I'd be waiting for your present, which won't be coming I guess. Because you're dead. But if everything goes right.
If everything goes right. Maybe we'll be celebrating my eighteenth, together with Mum and Dad if they're there.
I've felt for some days now that I won't be seeing my eighteenth birthday here. It's gotten stronger. Once I've done what I'm supposed to do, I'll be coming to you.
All we have to do.is wait. Till then, goodbye Sirius. I'll miss you.