Hey guys, between all my long lasting stories, I got inspiration for this fanfic. I warn you, this is not for the pure souls. WARNING: character death, suicide, mentions of abuse! Ignores the last two books.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
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A young boy, 16 years old, was lying on his back on a dirty mattress. Only an even dirtier sheet was covering it, but it was full of holes. The boy had black hair, green eyes and a lighting bolt scar. He was playing with a knife, throwing it in the air over and over again. He didn't wince when he caught the sharp side of the knife and cut his fingers. His name was Harry Potter, The-boy-who-lived. He was thinking of his life, did it even exist?
A lot had happened over the year. Voldemort was dead. Yes, dead. He killed him at the ministry of magic. But not before Voldemort killed his hero, Dumbledore. Why! Why had he been so foolish as to listen to the vision. Why! Dumbledore was not the only good person that died that day, but he couldn't bear to think of the other death. He had been all alone at the ministry of magic. Why would you think? This had not been his fault. It all started at the start of the year, when he went back to school.
His stomach had been grumbling for a while when they had arrived at King's cross, but Harry had ignored it. He wouldn't get any food from his uncle anyway. It had been like that all summer. His uncle had been fired and had been coming home drunk so many times, that Harry had lost count of them. When Harry was still downstairs when he came home, his uncle would hit him and would slur to him that he should go upstairs, the nuisance that he was.
The first time that had happened, he had been looking for letters from his friends and from Sirius all week, but they hadn't come. Not a single letter. Only after three weeks he got a letter from Sirius, which said he couldn't come to the burrow this year and that he had to stay at the Dursley's during the whole holiday. Nothing else. Nothing about his friends, nothing about wizard news, nothing! He had been so frustrated. And Dudley had been on a diet again, so Harry got even less than normal.
He hadn't greeted his uncle when he had left for platform 9¾ . When he arrived at the other side of the wall, he bumped into Malfoy. Of course he had gotten trouble. But what he had said was very strange.
"Watch it, mental boy, people will start thinking that you're not only mentally instable, but also blind. Ow, wait, you are."
Then he had tried to grab his glasses, but Harry suddenly had gotten to his feet and Malfoy had grabbed his belt instead. Harry had wanted to make a nasty comment, but his throat had hurt and he hadn't wanted to say anything, seeing as that would have hurt his throat even more. He had just shrugged and walked away, when Malfoy had released his belt from his firm grip.
But he hadn't been the only one around and someone else had seen Malfoy grabbing his belt. Someone else had made that nasty comment.
"Hey, Malfoy, you want to get into crazy Harry's pants? Just do it, the idiot doesn't have any dignity left anyway!"
Harry had turned around to see Ron grinning evilly at Malfoy. At that moment he had realized he hadn't been mistaken. It had been Ron's voice who said all those things, it had been Ron who had been calling him crazy and someone without dignity. Why would Ron do that?
Malfoy had sneered at Ron.
"Yeah, right. You better watch out, Weasel, because I'm prefect now!"
Ron had snorted and grabbed his own prefect badge.
"Don't even dare, deatheater scum!"
Right at that moment their women had thought it was time to be in the spotlight. Pansy had grabbed Malfoy's hand and had started to tug at it.
"Come on, Drakie-poo! We have to get a compartment, so we can do things together!"
And Hermione had grabbed Ron's hand and had tugged him in the opposite direction.
"Come on, Ron, don't linger around mentally unstable people for too long, that's unhealthy."
Only at that moment Harry had noticed that everyone had been staring at him. Everyone had acted like he was indeed mentally instable, except one other couple, Neville and Luna. They had told him about all the nasty comments the Daily prophet had made about him and the fact that nobody had believed that Voldemort had returned.
They had become friends, but not close friends like the 'Golden trio' from before. Luna and Neville had been too busy with each other. The only teacher that had treated him normally had been McGonagall. When he had found out about the attack on mister Weasley, they hadn't even thanked him, only Dumbledore, McGonagall and Sirius had. Hagrid had been furious because he had dropped Care for magical creatures (he had thought he had had enough homework already).
On that awful time when he had gotten the fake vision about Sirius, nobody had cared that he had fallen down to the floor. He had run off to the forest, with his broom and had been ignoring comments about getting back. Now that he thought about it, that had probably been not very good for his reputation.
When he arrived at the ministry of magic, it had been quiet. He had walked to the room, where he thought he had to be. When he had arrived, he had run to where he had thought Sirius would have been, but no one had been there. He had thought it had been a trap and he had been right, because the moment he had faked grabbing one of the prophecies, a group of Deatheaters had appeared. He had fought them the best he could, but he had gotten tired after an hour. Only then had Dumbledore and some help arrived. They had also been fighting very bravely, but Sirius was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange.
When Harry had tried to kill and had gone off to the entrance hall again, Voldemort had arrived. Voldemort had thrown a killing curse at him, but Dumbledore had jumped in front of him, just when the ministry people had arrived too. They had been frightened to death of course. Harry's face had still been tear streaked from Sirius' death, when he started to cry furiously again, because of Dumbledore. When Voldemort had been distracted by the ministry people, he had shot a killing curse at Voldemort. He had never thought it would work, but it did.
Right after that, the others had been coming from the prophecy hall as well and he had seen McGonagall had been missing. They had talked to each other and had told that she too had been killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. Afterwards they had sent him to the Dursley's. So here he was. And all the people that cared about him had died. Yes, all the people. Neville and Luna had been killed in an attack of fury by Malfoy and his cronies. Who did he have left?
Dumbledore- dead
McGonagall- dead
Sirius- dead
Ron- hated him
Hermione- hated him
Neville- dead
Luna- dead
Seamus- hated him
Dean- hated him
Remus- hated him
Uncle Vernon- could he even consider him?
Aunt Petunia- wanted him dead
Dursley- did only like him as a punching bag
The neighbors- they thought he was a criminal
Other wizards/witches- thought he was mentally instable
He had nobody left. He smiled and brought the knife to his wrist. It would be nothing more than suicide.
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Just inspiration. This is a one-shot. Only if I get enough votes for this getting more chapters, I will make it more. Yes, I will be placing a poll. Please review.
Katjeschatje
I got an anonymous review, asking about Tonks. If you've read my story you'll notice that he didn't go to grimmauldplace, so he didn't meet Tonks.