Need.
Part of the Drug Addicted Harry challenge by lilyannalily in the HPFC forum.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never was, never will be. I do own my diet Pepsi that I am drinking at the moment, and my cellphone that is located in my pocket, which is vibrating. Oh! And my headphones! I own those, also. :)
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The rain beat down hard on his head. He felt the drops dripping onto his head and into his eyes. He raised the cigarette to his lips and breathed in deeply. He blew out, sending the smoke above his head. He stared at the rain drops and the smoke mingling together, like old time friends.
He scratched his arm, feeling little bumps and bruises. He felt his pupils go large and his breath become more shallow and strangled. He rushed to his apartment. He went to the bathroom, nodding once to his roommate, Ginny.
"Harry?" Harry ignored her and slammed the door to the bathroom. Jiggling a loose floorboard, he plied it up. He reached down and got the little baggy with syringes in it. He grinned to himself.
"Shoot up," he pressed the needle tip into his arm, sighing in relief. Ginny kept rapping on the door. He could hear her outside the door.
"Harry James Potter, open this door!" Ginny demanded, to which Harry sighed.
"I'm taking a piss! Go away!" He snapped, taking a small container of water and pouring it into the toilet. Harry heard Ginny walk down the halls, as he put the syringe back under the floorboard. He lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply. He blew the air out all around him, breathing it in through his nose. He inhaled on the cigarette and blew the air out through his mouth and onto the palm of his hand.
Harry felt himself get dizzy. He tried to stand, but fell to the ground. Ginny ran in, upon hearing the crash.
"Oh my God!" Ginny opened the door, and saw Harry lying on the floor with his sleeve up over his forearm. Crying, Ginny shook Harry's shoulder. "Wake up, dammit!" she screeched.
Ginny ran out to their dark kitchen and called the nearest Muggle hospital. She scanned the living room that was attached to the kitchen. It had an old sofa that was from the early 80s. It was dark with a small TV in the corner.
"Hello," Ginny said when a doctor answered the phone. "My friend is out cold, I don't know why. He was in the bathroom. I think he was doing Heroine, or something," Ginny cried, and hung up her phone.
She ran back into the bathroom and felt for a pulse on Harry. There was one, but it was faint. She cursed as loud as she could. Her best friend was on the verge of death.
Ginny ran to the window, and all she saw was the flashing red and white lights.
