Emerald eyes gazed at the ceiling, unseeing. His whole body felt numb, all around him in the dormitory the gentle sound of chests rising and falling permeated, the air heavy with slumber. How badly those emerald eyes wished to close, to drift off into sleep, but they couldn't. What lay behind them was far too terrifying.
The year had been horrid, Sirius was murdered in the first of the final battles, Hagrid died fighting at Harry's side. Dumbledore had perished in the last battle along with Ron and Hermione. They all died to protect Harry - the boy who lived, yet again. Although now he wished he hadn't. The war was over, his friends - no, his family - were gone, there was nothing left to fight for, nothing left to live for.
It was the end of the term, only one more week until school was out for the summer. Only one more week before he was forced to return to the Dursley's. Unbidden images filled his mid, floating across its surface. Images of Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley. The cupboard under the stairs, the small room on the second story. Memories flooded, being rescued by Ron in the summer of his second year, spending summers with him and Hermione, dinners with Sirius, conversations and candy with Dumbledore.
Rolling onto his side Harry tried to push the images away, to grasp the numbness that was keeping him sane. Closing his eyes with the strain of it, the images became even clearer, sharpened. His eyes burst open, and his sight fell upon Ron's now permanently empty bed. The numbness slipped away and pain flooded into him. Warms tears fell down his soft cheeks, soaking the bed sheets, the maroon covers shimmering like blood in the wetness. Harry felt as if his soul was being torn into pieces, but that was impossible, as he had lost that scrap of ether long ago.
He needed to be away from this room, away from this place, the pain was unbearable. He wanted to die. Everything he touched and cared for did, so why couldn't he? Grief weakened arms pushed him awkwardly from the bed, the racking sobs caused him to sway before he found his feet. Stumbling he found his way to the end of his bed and to his trunk, trying to silence himself, which only turned the sobs to hiccoughs. Opening his trunk as quietly as possible, Harry removed his invisibility cloak; the last thing he needed was to be found, to have to explain, to have to think about any of it. Tossing the cloak around his shoulders Harry left the dormitory. The common room was empty, and his unsteady feet carried him across the space to the portrait hole. Escaping through it Harry took a deep breath, the pain faded, the numbness was returning.
Blindly Harry walked through the corridors. Searching for something, searching for nothing. His feet carried him on their own path. Up staircases and down, through curves, straight-aways, tunnels and secret passages. Harry didn't know where he was, and he didn't care. All he knew was that he hadn't run into anyone yet. As soon as the thought formed Harry heard footsteps approaching. They sounded quite a way off, but he was still sniffling and he didn't want to be found. Sliding into the first room he found, Harry shut the door behind him and crumbled to the floor. He didn't know why he bothered hiding, it didn't matter, nothing did anymore. Holding his face in his hands Harry tried to wish himself into nonexistence but he could not succeed.
A cry of desperation escaped his lips and his hand clutched wildly at his shaggy black hair, removing sections of it. Opening his eyes Harry tried to determine where he was. Bottles lined the walls, with various odd things floating in them. There was a cupboard on the right, a desk with a chair in the middle. He was in an office, but not just any office, it was the Potion Masters office. That meant only one thing, Harry's escape was within those stone walls. Standing with a purpose Harry almost ran to the cupboard at the other side of the room. He was sure it would be locked, his hands frantically searched the pocket of his robe for his wand, but it wasn't there. Another cry ripped forth, more of frustration then desperation, his escape was so close! Checking his pockets his hand landed on something cold and slick. After retrieving it, Harry examined it. It was the knife Sirius had given him. Tears welled up and began to spill out at the memory of his lost and beloved god-father.
Resting his back against the cupboard Harry tried to regain control again, the footsteps returned, coming closer, pulling back his attention. Opening his eyes Harry noticed the still steaming cup of tea resting on the desk, that must be Snape approaching, coming back to his office and his tea. Harry had to hurry; taking the knife blade out Harry ran it down the crack between the cupboard doors. No click issued forth, desperately Harry clawed at the doors and they swung open, having been unlocked the whole time.
The steps were very close now; Snape would walk through the door any moment. The emerald eyes searched the cupboard frantically finally landing on a pus colored liquid in a small vial, his vision was too blurred to read the label but the skull and cross bones were prominent. As Harry grabbed for the bottle he heard the knob turn, but he had his cloak on, he couldn't be seen, it would give him enough time. The door opened as he uncorked the lid.
"Potter." Snape's chilling voice slid over the stone room, Harry's heart almost shot through his chest.
How could Snape know he was there? Spinning Harry's eyes met Snape's and his vision sunk to the floor, his cloak had been caught in the door.
"Potter." Snape repeated, the silky tone becoming deadly "What are you doing in my office?"
Panicking Harry did the only thing he could think of; he downed all the pus colored liquid in one gulp.
"POTTER!" Snape screamed as Harry fell back; the vial falling from his hand and shattering on the floor.
A burning sensation ripped through Harry, his insides felt as though they were boiling. Hearing screaming Harry attempted to figure out where the bone chilling sound came from, only to discover it was him. Quickly the pain faded and the welcome numbness overcame him. Harry felt like he was floating to the floor as the blackness claimed him.
Snape's face was frozen in horror; he rushed forward as the boy fell, the screams ripping through the silent night. The thick yellow liquid was not unfamiliar to the Potions Master. It was painful, deadly, and swift. Stepping over the boy Snape thrust a long-fingered hand into the cabinet, pulling out the antidote. He dropped to the floor beside the boy,
"You insolent child." he growled, the shards of glass cutting through the sensitive flesh on his palm.
Uncapping the new vial with one hand, Severus tilted back the head of the boy with the other hand, and poured the black liquid down the hero's throat. For a moment nothing happened, and then another moment passed, and then another. Snape's face crumpled at the thought the boy was dead.
Slender fingers caressed the boys neck, looking for a pulse and as they found one the boy shot upward, his head colliding with the large hooked nose of the man above him.
Severus grunted at the impact. Blood oozed from his nose, droplets splattering onto his robes and the face of the boy below him.
Harry leaned forward, wretched in the man's lap, and fell back again, sputtering. Snape's arm shot out just in time to catch him.
"No … Professor." he croaked weakly, vomit dripping off his chin. "Please … I …. I …." sobs wracked his body, "I want to die."
Satisfied that the boy was alive, even though just barely, Severus cast a quick spell to staunch the bleeding from his nose. Another flick of his wand and the boy was lifted on to a stretcher. Snape stood stiffly, covered in blood and vomit.
Snorting he began to walk out of his office and lead the stretcher to the infirmary, "What would your adoring public say?" he said snidely, pulling Harry along behind him. Snape grabbed the invisibility cloak at the door and tossed it over Potter.
"After all, you are the-boy-who-lived, it is not up to you to change that."
Sneering at the semi-conscious boy, Snape guided him through the corridors, to the infirmary, and the healing hands of Madame Pomfrey.