Disclaimer: unfortunately, I own nothing of the wonderful world of Harry Potter; if I did, I would be filthy rich. I'm not.
Explanation: Ok, this came to me a Wednesday night. I was just doing stuff on my computer when a song came on, if you can download it, do. It's Evanescence's Breathe no more. Ok, for those who are familiar with it, or are downloading it, this is what happened. I heard this song and I totally saw this in my head and had to write it down.
It came to me in the form of Harry after the sixth book. Obviously, this is a tangent of the book, because the real Harry would never do this, but it felt right to do this. The song was just so sad and depressing, that this is what I saw. Please don't kill me with flames; I would like to die peacefully, thank you.
Breathe no More
Harry walked around, leaving Ron and Hermione to their own things. Everyone was getting ready to get on the train, making sure they had packed all their things. Harry had everything ready… he had told his friends he would meet up with them later. He wandered on the ground floor of what had been his school for six years now. He had sworn to not return and he felt he had to say goodbye to it, to thank it for all the wonderful experiences and people he had met through Hogwarts.
He took the stairs down to the dungeons. Most of the Slytherins had already evacuated the area, leaving Harry free to roam without disturbances. He walked down a few corridors, coming down to a few he had never been down. He searched aimlessly, he didn't know for what, but he felt something pulling him, guiding him down each entrance of the maze. He was deep in thought; thinking about Dumbledore, Voldemort, Horcruxes, his friends, the wizarding world. So many things had happened because of one man who wanted power, all for the decision of one man. Harry thought it impossible for him to rid the world of such a terrible wizard; after all, he was just one person. So was Voldemort. Harry felt the weight of the world on him.
Dumbledore…Harry had made him drink, and keep drinking that dreadful substance that had made him so weak. He had been unable to help while Malfoy threatened him, and while he watched his own teacher kill the man he had considered as close as a grandfather. How foolish it had been of Dumbledore to trust such a man, thought Harry, how stupid. All those signs, obvious signs, how could he not listen to everyone? He had no one to protect him now. His world was crumbling down as all he loved disappeared. He wouldn't take it any more. He couldn't. He wished there was an easier way.
He continued to walk, he didn't know where he was now, nor did he care, he probably wasn't getting on the train, anyway. At the end of a long corridor was a single door. No other doors were in sight for a while back. The black, rustic wooden door reminded Harry of so many things. Sirius. Why did I follow my stupid dream? If I wasn't so gullible, so many people would be alive. So much is my fault. He had just been standing in front of the door. He tried to open it and found it locked from the inside.
"Alohomora", he said quietly. The door clicked. He pushed it open, finding inside he hadn't expected to see ever again: the Mirror of Erised. It looked just as he remembered it; extremely tall, with its gold frame and clawed feet, he recalled the last he had ever seen of this mirror. Dumbledore had said not to look for it. Technically, he hadn't looked for it. What he wanted most was obvious to him, he wanted to kill Voldemort, he wanted to free the wizarding world, he wanted to save all the people he loved. He stood in front of the mirror, and what he saw was no shock, but what he felt was like nothing he had felt before.
He saw himself standing with all the Weasleys, Hermione, all his friends and teachers, and people from the ministry, all looking at him, not accusingly, or worried, or concerned; they all had one same look: happiness, thankfulness, gratefulness. This is what they would look like after he had rid the world of Voldemort. All he wanted… this was it. This was the image he had wanted to see! This is how he wanted the whole world to be: happy. There was only one person who could achieve this type of happiness: him. It was his job. It was his purpose. It was his destiny.
Harry did something he didn't think himself capable of doing; he sat down on the ground and cried. He cried like a child, with large sobs and enormous tears. Why? Why was life so difficult for him? Why was he the one that was marked? Why was he supposed to be strong for the rest of them? Why did everyone he care about have to suffer or die? The weight of the world was on his shoulders, and it felt that way. He felt his whole life turn to dust. His fate was to die young or have the life of a hero, even worse than now. He would have to fight him, no matter what. How to kill him? Apparently, with love.
His crying continued, he couldn't let them down, but he didn't want them to hurt if he died. He looked up at the people in the mirror, still looking at him. He saw his reflection, sitting on the floor, his head as tall as everyone's hip. His eyes were shiny and red and dark, dark green, his faces blotched with red. He felt week. How was a kid supposed to beat the most feared wizard in history? He wasn't safe anymore. He couldn't hide in Hogwarts. He felt so alone…
His friends would follow him to the fight. They would risk it all or him, but, still, he was so alone. Many would die in the fight against evil; many had already died. All he wanted was to end it all. He stared up as the faces in the glass, all so happy, when he was so miserable. He scrunched up his face in a frown and lifted his fist, bringing it with a crash onto the smooth mirror surface. The glass shattered with a hundred cracks and started falling on the ground. He watched as the people in the reflection disappeared. A million pieces of glass fell on Harry and all around the floor. Harry just sat there. When they were done falling, he sighed, letting the last teardrops fall on his shirt.
What if he were to end it all? What if Voldemort didn't have anything to hunt? What if he finished the job for him? Harry looked down at the sharp pieces of glass on the floor. It won't hurt for too long, he thought. He took off his school robe, throwing it to the side. He picked up one of the pieces of the broken mirror, one with a particularly jagged edge. He brought up his left arm, turning it so that the wrist was on top. He took a deep breath and brought the edge of the glass to his skin. He didn't have to push to hard for the first drops of blood rushed out of his body. He winced a little, and breathed a little deeper. He tried it again, near the first opening; once again, he pushed the sharp object onto his unblemished skin. He pushed a little harder than the first time, pulling the glass up his arm as he cut deeply along the line of veins on his forearm. He was now bleeding profusely and panting, trying to keep a steady breath in his body.
He took the piece of glass with his left hand now. It was shaking violently, but he held it tight. He brought up his right wrist, making a sample cut. It came out a bit crooked, and hurt a bit more than the first two cuts. He held his arm as steady as his body would allow. And instead of bringing the glass up his arm, he pushed the glass into his arm, letting the first rush of blood out. He held his left arm still, while moving his right arm, pushing his arm out against the shard of glass. It worked better than he had hoped. The cut was extremely deep, he wouldn't last very long. He threw the slippery, bloody glass to the side and decided to lie down. In one movement, he was lying face up on top of all the glass, his arms to his sides, pools of sticky red liquid forming around him. He lied still, feeling the strong pumping in both his arms. He was beginning to feel weak, and shaking.
Hermione, I take it that you will find out why I did this. I hope this will make the world easier. Don't mourn over my body. Remember all the good things. You're strong… don't let the world tell you otherwise. Ron, mate…sigh…I love you, mate. You made everything more fun. You kept me real when I would've gone crazy, but I guess this doesn't cover crazy. Take care of Hermione, you need each other.
An image of Sirius crossed his mind. He smiled. He was going to be with some of the greatest people ever. Sirius was going to be there. Dumbledore would be there. His parents would be there… maybe he would be happy. He knew nothing in this world could make him happy. He would be miserable for the rest of his life. It would be better to die now, young. Too many things troubled him. He was getting rid of them all… he would be free… he would finally be free.
Harry closed his eyes, and breathed a rattling breath. He couldn't feel his body anymore. He thought of thegood parts of his life. He wondered what could have been. Could he have found real love? Could he have found a normal life? Could he ever have been all he wanted to be? No, he thought, the world has too much evil. It's better this way.
No, it's not! Said another part of his mind. Problems will only be left for those you know. People will suffer more without you! The world will now fall on someone else's shoulders! Why did Dumbledore show you all the memories about Horcruxes? Why has everyone been trying to give you advice and help you? Because you're the only one who can do this!
Harry looked up at the high dark ceiling.
"What have I done?" he asked aloud, a hoarse whisper, before letting go of his last breath and closing his eyes, never to open again.
Ok, this might be the stupidest thing you've ever read. You might not want me to ever write again! But I will continue writing, just because I can. Remember, this is fan fiction. It means I'm just a fan! If you don't like it, that's ok. If you DO like it, great! Just something that came to mind. I don't really think Harry would be that stupid. Even Harry has better judgment than that! I know Dumbledore moved the mirror to somewhere else, but I needed it to be in the school. Anyway, thanx for reading!