WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS SELF HARM AND DEPRESSION!
A/N: Hey guys....so I've got a bit impatient and decided to publish the first chapter of my new story: I really want to know what you all think. Now I know I have some explaining to do-I wrote this story because I want there to be a lager awareness on the subject of depression and self harm; This is a story of recovery, to show you can get better if suffering from depression. This is a story very close to my heart, somebody I love dearly has fought with depression for years, and recently resorted to self-harm, it was a huge eye opener for me, not only because I was sick beyond worry, it was that I didn't much about the issue.
Like I say, its a story about recovery, going through all the ups and downs every one goes through; its got many of my feelings in it (mainly coming from the outside view of a family member), In a way I wrote it for me, to help me deal what had happened...Please note I wont be offended if you don't like reading stories like this, or if its too strong or close to home...
Am going to stop here, before the author's note becomes longer than the chapter-and I break down.....I will only just post this chapter for now...I want to finish or nearly finish the whole thing before its all posted..shouldnt be long...am writing everyday.
Thank you for listening, understanding and being patient with me (I will update Aftershock when my inspiration returns) Much Love-x A x
P.S. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter!


It was over. The blackness was overpowering the light, creating a depressed blanket over the tall misshaped house. This safe haven was set in large open fields, providing protection, peace and purification to the unique home. Sat proudly at the very end of the fenced garden was a new garden feature.

The feature reminded the inhabitancies of strange, full yet lonely house of what they had been fighting for; what and who they lost, and who they had gained. The grave had only been filled that very morn, with a smart mahogany coffin, flowers, and mementos, reminding his siblings of the deceased.

The surrounding area was silent, and still, not even the animals dared to move, it was almost as if they sensed the grief pulsing from within the rickety building. All but one was resting, finally catching up on the lost sleep that seemed non-existent over the pass week. Six men and three women, breathing calmly, allowing the final goodbyes curdle into happy memories playing like a video tape in their dreams. Sadness had become a part of the walls…only slight mild relief had been granted at the emotional funeral. The owners of the house had finally relaxed from checking on their remaining children every hour of the night, keeping an eye on three of them in particular.

Every night had been the same; each taking it in turns to check the occupied bedrooms. Every night they would step into the girl's room, panicking when finding a bed empty, causing them to check every room before finding the girl curled up beside two boys, all sound asleep on the floor underneath a shared a blanket.

On this particular calm night however, there only appeared that one was missing. They were in the room. Looking out onto the fresh grave, the white marble of the headstone reflecting in the moonlight. It looked beautiful, as pure as the world they knew of was now… They had achieved so much, in so little time with surviving, painfully. Their eyes seemed to move around the area, as if conducting surveillance, the past year had taught them all to be high alert for any danger; of being caught.

It had been a while since they had felt this feeling, something that was so intense that there was only one way to relieve it. The ton of guilt weighed heavy on their heart, that niggling voice telling him he could have stopped it, he could have saved the dead if he was fast enough.

He remembered the first time; the pure bliss that ran through his body as he had placed the beautiful, shiny razor against his skin, pulling it sharply, slashing until the wonderful blood came seeping through the cuts. He had remembered how hard he found it; placing the blade onto his skin, he wasn't scared of the pain, nor death, but the of the release if offered him, would it give him so much he wouldn't need to repeat his actions? It was same question he asked every time he had felt low. He had become addicted to the pain, and the sight of his own blood dripping from the glorious scars he had created.

He had been feeling the build up to this night for weeks; he had tried to quit, resisting reaching out for any sharp item in his eye line and feeling the cool metal caress his skin. He knew he was being watched; every member of the family, plus his two best friends had kept a close eye on him since they left the Great Hall. He knew he had changed, it was what war did to people: well that was his excuse anyway. He had become distant from everyone, only joining the company of his family when he was physically pulled from his room and down the stairs.

He knew the night was his alibi, it allowed him to have time to dwell and get lost in his mixed, messed up thoughts; thinking over the past week, year even, it was easy to feel the emotional pain becoming too much on his damaged heart; watching your brother die, the girl you love enduring pain, when in reality you wished it was you for more reasons than anyone knew. He smiled at the slight thought of the Cruciatus Curse being thrown towards his body, how the exquisite pain could free him. He slashed the object that he had been stroking in his hand so fast against his skin it was nothing but a flash of silver. Again and again, he moved it expertly against his skin, memorizing the traces of blood creating patterns on his arm. He could taste the sweet metal in his mouth, savoring the taste to stop himself from crying out in pleasure as he created a new line of perfection.

He allowed himself to enjoy his artwork for a little longer, before performing the appropriate healing spells: ones which clean and stop the bleeding but allow the physical pain to continue its hypnotic throbs. He knew no one would notice the extra scars, already marred by circles from the Ministry brains, and knicks from the birds, someone was yet to discover his new editions, plus his family had other issues invading their heads to notice him at all. Still he couldn't take chances, he pulled down the sleeves of his t-shirt and climbed back into the makeshift bed they had created, in order to watch the sunrise comfortably.