After Harry and Ron's fight when Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire, Harry felt so alone. He felt that if Ron did not believe him Hermione would side with Ron like she normally did. Harry lay on the bed thinking desperate and depressing thoughts. Harry could not fall asleep no matter what he did. He went to the bathroom to try to rid himself from such thoughts, but it did not work. He then remembered that he had a knife. He knew he shouldn't do it, but he felt so depressed and anxious, he would do anything to keep from thinking what he was thinking. He went to the bathroom again but this time brought his knife.
Harry kept thinking that no one would believe that he did not put his name in the cup, and he slowly dragged the knife against his skin. He thought that he was going to die in the tournament, and he cut a bit deeper. He kept thinking that no one really cared about him, and he cut a little deeper. After a while of thinking negative thoughts and cutting, he felt that he could never stop. He just looked at the blood going down his arm, flowing out of him. He made a lot of cuts, but he still felt how he had been feeling. He tried to stand, but he felt dizzy because of his pain. Harry still felt depressed, but now there was so much pain and despair that he did not know how to live in the world. Just allowing the pain to consume his thought was not working, and he needed something else to think about.
Harry did not notice that he was losing so much blood. All of a sudden, Harry had an idea. He knew that no one would miss him if he died; that he would die anyway in the tournament; that if he ended his life just a little earlier, no one would care. He dragged the knife across his wrists. Just as he started to fall into the darkness of unconsciousness, he heard someone shout his name.