Harry Potter was tired.
Tired of never being able to leave his house because of the reporters, he had begun to develop a fear of cameras because of them.
Tired of the women and men that thought he just loved to get hit on, how women thought that because he wasn't dating he was desperate, how men assumed that because of his small stature he was ready to submit and listen to everything they said.
Tired, oh Merlin he was so tired of his friends. He could never hate them or leave them, but with Ron's anger for him not joining the Auror's, and Hermione's constant commands that he should share his personal views to the public, made him so tired.
But no matter how much sleep he got, how much he hid, how much he ignore all that made him tired. He was still so very exhausted.
The exhaustion just got worse, then became partnered with sadness, then the loss of appetite.
He wouldn't eat for days, he wasn't starving himself, he just couldn't tell when he was hungry. Harry had tried explaining it to Hermione but she just began ranting about anorexia.
He wasn't sure what made her think he had that, he was comfortable in his body, he didn't think he was fat. If anything he was just annoyed by his height.
Then his eating became weird, he would eat large quantities then go for days without eating and it was so confusing and he didn't know what was wrong
He was just tired
Tired
Tired
So very tired.
Harry was sure his mind was breaking but at the same time he felt perfectly fine.
He was fine.
Everything is normal.
Everything is fine.
Fine
Fine
Fine
Fine
Finefinefinefinefine.
George, who Harry talked to from time to time, had forced him to talk to a Mind-Healer. The talks helped..
And the medicine helped and didn't. They made him feel numb. He said how he felt so tired but couldn't sleep. She gave him antidepressants that made him feel empty, like they took away the sadness but the happiness stayed away too. She also gave him sleeping pills that were too strong a dose for him, he had tried to explain that with his.. smaller stature that he would need a lower dose. But she acted like she was right, that the shaking and headaches and just sickness were normal.
He kept taking the antidepressants, he'd rather have the emptiness than the tiredness. He felt empty alot during his stay at the Dursleys so he could deal with that.
But he couldn't deal with the sickness, he threw away the sleeping pills and lied when she asked how his sleeping was, throwing away every refill.
With Hermione and Ron and the Reporters and the emptiness, Harry finally gave up. So he did what he thought might help with the emptiness. Pain wasn't an empty feeling, pain was filled with feeling because pain was feeling.
No one really questioned when Harry began wearing long sleeves, it was winter after all. But soon people became suspicious when summer came along.
When they saw the new and old cuts, most new, covering both arms, all the way from wrist to elbow, he was thrown into the St. Mungo's mental ward.
From the months of being there Harry still felt the emptiness, he had thought the pain helped, but it didn't. He was so desperate that he believed the pain helped.
He had learned he was a good actor too. After 5 months they had released him.
Harry Potter packed and moved the second he got home, none of his close friends knew where he went. All of his clothes and a multitude of potions were gone, noone knew what to do but at the same time they didn't try to do anything, noone wants a mentally ill Savior.
In New York Alex Bralie smiled brightly as he thanked his new Therapist, Laura, for the tips on anger issues.
He didn't feel so empty.
But he felt nervous as he opened the door to his apartment two years after Harry Potter's disappearance to see a very important looking man standing there.
" ? I'm Agent Phil Coulson with SHIELD, may I speak with you?"
His nervousness began to turn empty.