Disclaimer: I don't own any of this it's all J. K. Rowlings
A/N: this started out as a one shot but then I realised that this chapter could stand on its own so I decided to up date it like this. There will be a twist to this that will make it sad if I continue. Please review to tell me if I should leave well enough alone or continue. And now come read my twisted tail that was formed deep within the vile night.
"Do I deserve this pain that comes with being the unwilling Hero of the story?"
There were many unjust circumstances forced upon Harry Potter and he had braved them all. Had even become a better person because of them, but there is only so much one person, even a hero and savoir, can take. Harry Potter, the chosen one, the one that would defeat lord Voldermort the most feared wizard of the age, was enraged by yet another injustice that was forced upon him. Not only was he forced to live with his "family"that despised him, cursed him, physically beat him, his own family. But when he was brought forth into the light and given the revelation that changed his life, he gained friends and a real family. Now, he was cut off from the very people that kept him sane, everyone was out of reach to him, the weasley's, Hermione, everyone from the order. He was left to stew in his own misery, thinking of Sirius, how his god father was dead because of him. Harry couldn't take much more. Locked in him cupboard with no contact, not even with the muggle world. Thrice a day food was shoved through the little opening at the bottom of his door that had been placed there at the end of his first year at Hogwarts. Twice a day he was let out to use the facilities. It was like being 12 again, a prisoner in his room for something he couldn't control. What was worse, he couldn't barge out, hex his "family" to oblivion and leave. Hide away like the coward he thought he was. No, he wasn't even allowed that small mercy, before bringing to an end all contacts to the outside world, Dumbledore had taken his wand. He couldn't defend himself, couldn't keep his person safe. He was defenceless, alone, depressing, heartbroken and enraged, not a good combination. The energy that could have been wasted walking around was used to hurl objects across the small space that was his room, often pieces hitting him in the face because of the lack of space.
He hated this, having to be cooped up like a chicken in a pen. Not being able to help, save, hell even endanger the people he loved. He couldn't be in their company, talk to them, and feel their love. To him, it felt like the world was already ending, very slowly but surely it would end the world as he knew it would end, perish, lost for ever. But then again that's not too much different then now is? With his godfather gone and no ties to any out side world, didn't it seem like the world he had known for the part 5 years was gone? He'd only known Sirius for 2 years and yet he had already lost him. Longer then my parents he thought bitterly. But it was true, every parental figure he had ever had, died. With Sirius gone would it be Mrs. Weasley next? Or would it be Lupin? Could it possibly be even Dumbledore, not that he was high on Harry's list of favourite people at the moment, but he did consider the Headmaster a parental figure. He didn't know all he had ever wanted was to be loved. But it didn't look very safe considering his record of loved people. Died, deceased, departed all of them.
A tear trickled down Harry Potter's cheek, the first one since discovering the Prophesy. He hadn't realised he was such a menace to society, wizard and muggle alike. He hadn't thought about Sirius death over to much, it only made him want to die ten folds over. He replayed the scene in his inner eye, replayed the fatal moment that again changed his pathetic life. He was saw terrible mistakes on his part, different ways to save Sirius countless times over. Yet he hadn't acted on any of them, he had stood and watched like the child he was. Was he going to stand and watched everyone he loved die? Would he just be on the side lines while others faugh his losing battle for him? Would he watch yet another friend fall through the veil to death without him to accompany them? Yes, he longed to die, to expire his life like those before him. And yet he was still here, breathing, feeling, hating, loving, resenting, and burning with untold sorrow. And all alone, in his diminutive cupboard that was now his home, his sanctuary. At the moment it was the perfect size, not to large, small enough for him to curl up and weep, with grief and morning, until the next time stale mouldy food was shoved under the flap in the door for him to clench his thirst on.
A/N: hey I hope you liked this story. Please review so I know if you'd like a second chapter or if I should just keep it as a one shot. Also if Harry seems off character to you, sorry it's just the way he needs to be for this story to work. Again Review please.