Title: I Devise My Own Demise

Author: Kyra aka Demon-childe619

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so please don't sue! The song used is 'I Devise My Own Demise' by Papa Roach from their Paramour Sessions CD.

Summary: Harry's tired of everyone expecting him and him alone to save the world, or die trying.

Spoilers: Through Book 5, takes place the following summer.

Warnings: Attempted suicide.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry Potter sat in the dark, dank attic of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, a half empty bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand. He absolutely hated this house. 'Just like Sirius hated the place.' Harry thought. At the thought of his Godfather, Harry raised the bottle in a mockery of a toast and took another huge gulp.

Harry had been living at Number 12 for the past two weeks, since the day after his 16th birthday when Dumbledore had deemed it okay for Harry to leave his aunt and uncle's house on Privet Drive. Harry would have rather stayed on Privet Drive than stay at the house that had served as his Godfather's prison for the past year; though nobody listened when he told them this, just looked at him sadly and told him it was for his own good. Harry snorted at the thought and took another swig of firewhiskey.

Hermione and the Weasleys had already been at Grimmauld place when Harry arrived. Normally, he would have been happy to see them, but at this point he just wanted them to leave him the hell alone. All they had done since he had arrived was pester him and try to get him to talk about what had happened at the Department of Mysteries at the end of the year and try to reassure him that it wasn't his fault that Sirius was dead. "Of course it's not my fault!" Harry muttered, "It's Voldemort's, for sending me those stupid visions. And Snape's for not even trying to teach me Occlumency. And Dumbledore's for locking him up in this damned house, everyone knew he despised this place." The only person who had left him alone at all in the time he had been at Number 12 was Draco Malfoy, who had shown up with Professor Snape a couple days ago, beaten and bloodied because he had refused to become a Death Eater. It had been determined that Grimmauld Place would be the safest place for the blonde until school started. While Draco hadn't tried to interact with Harry in any way, Harry had noticed that the Slytherin would occasionally stare at him with an odd look in his eyes, one that Harry couldn't quite figure out.

He took another drink from the bottle in his hand. He had discovered Sirius's secret stash of Firewhiskey about a week after he got to the house. So far, in the past week, he had worked his way through two full bottles and was currently working on his third, the fourth sitting next to him in case he finished his current bottle before he was done drinking for the night. Every night for the past week, once everyone had fallen asleep Harry would sneak out of the room he shared with Ron and silently make his way up to the attic to attempt to drink away his memories. Memories of his mother screaming and sacrificing her life for his, memories of a snake-like voice saying "Kill the spare" followed by a blinding green light and the dull thud of Cedric's lifeless body landing on the ground of the cemetery, memories of the look of complete shock on Sirius's face as he fell through the veil. In his effort to drown his bad memories, he would try to think of the happier memories he had, however few they were. Being accepted to Hogwarts, meeting Ron and Hermione, finding out that he could live with Sirius once the older man's name was cleared. "Only, Sirius is dead now. So it doesn't matter much if his name is cleared or not." Harry muttered darkly.

I can't control everything
And I can't forget just what I've seen
And these memories take me away
To a better place than I am today

Taking a couple more swigs of the alcohol in his hand, Harry let his thoughts wander to the war with Voldemort. 'Stupid Snake-Face! And apparently, I'm the one who has to kill the bastard!' He snorted, 'Like I can actually do that with the training I've been given so far. What am I supposed to do…Tickle him to death? Cause that will be soooo effective against the Cruciatus and Avada Kedavra! Not to mention, everyone seems to think that I can do this on my own. That the rest of the Wizarding World can just sit around on their fat arses and let me, a sixteen-year-old, untrained boy, go out and kill the evil fucker.' Harry thought derisively. 'That or I'm supposed to die trying, right? I mean that's my sole purpose for living, isn't it? I'm The-Boy-Who-Lived! My only purpose is to kill Voldemort!' He took another large gulp and continued his train of thought, 'I either kill Voldemort or he kills me. Well, what if that's not how I want to die? What if I want to decide how I'll die?' With that thought, Harry reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a small razor, staring at it contemplatively for a moment before taking another swig of firewhiskey then setting the now empty bottle to the side and opening a new one, taking a large gulp before going back to staring at the razor in his hands.

I devise my own demise
Here's to Life – the Life I'm losing
I devise my own demise
Here's to Life – the Life I'm losing

Making up his mind, Harry took another long draw from the new bottle and set it down next to him. He took the razor in his right hand and firmly pressed it against his left wrist, wincing slightly at the sting, watching in morbid fascination as he drew the blade across his wrist, as the blood welled to the surface. Once the first cut was made he once again picked up his firewhiskey and drank a bit more before returning to his current task. He once again drew the blade across his left wrist, watching as more blood welled to the surface and joined the blood from the first cut, running down his arm and dripping on the floor. Tilting his head slightly, Harry moved the blade up to just before the crook of his elbow, pressed down firmly and drug the razor down the length of his arm until the new cut had intersected with the first two across his wrists. He did this once more before placing the razor in his now bloody left hand and reached over with his good hand to grab his firewhiskey. He once again raised the bottle in a mock toast, "Here's to Life. The Life I'm losing!" He exclaimed before drinking half the bottle in one go.

It is time to say "Hello, Goodbye"
(Hello, Goodbye)
To fade away, Fade away alone
(Motherfuck it, Goodbye!)
I just want you to take, take me back home
To a better place that I've never know
That I've never known

He shook his head, feeling lightheaded from the amount of alcohol in his system and the blood loss. After setting the bottle aside again, he once again gripped the razor, this time in his left hand, and pulled it across his right wrist. Once, twice, three times across his wrist before moving on to his arm. He vaguely noticed that the cuts on his right wrist were much more jagged than the one's on his left. 'Probably because it kept slipping because of the blood.' He thought, then shrugged, 'Oh well.' He then made two long cuts down the inside of his right arm before placing the razor on the floor next to him.

I devise my own demise
Here's to Life – the Life I'm losing
I devise my own demise
Here's to Life – the Life I'm losing

He sat slumped against the wall of the attic, staring in morbid fascination as his blood poured from the cuts he had made. 'Finally, peace at last. No more Voldemort, no more nagging, no more nightmares.' Harry thought. As the darkness started to close in on him, he let his eyes fall shut and allowed memories wash over him. Memories of times spent with Ron and Hermione, times spent with Sirius, of seeing his family in the Mirror of Erised. He let the memories flow over him and take him away to a better place as he started slipping in and out of consciousness.

I can't control everything
(Death is the only way out!)
And I can't forget just what I've seen
(Death is the only way out!)
These memories take me away
To a better place than I am today
Than I am today

Harry sighed and surrendered to the insistent darkness, pulling the images of his parents and Sirius to the front of his mind, wanting them to be the last things he would see.

I devise my own demise
Here's to Life – the Life I'm losing
I devise my own demise
Here's to Life – the Life I'm losing
…This Life I'm losing
(This Life I'm losing)
…This Life I'm losing
(This Life I'm losing)
I devise my...own demise

Just as Harry was about to slip into unconsciousness for the final time he dimly heard the attic door creak open and a soft, horrified exclamation of "Potter!" before hands grasped onto his shoulders, shaking him insistently. He opened his eyes a crack to see the blurry, blonde head of Draco Malfoy in front of him.

"G'way, Mafoy," Harry slurred, "'M tryin' t'die here." That said he let his eyes drift shut once more.

"Damn it, Potter!" Draco exclaimed, "Wake the fuck up!" He slapped Harry across the face. Harry groaned but didn't open his eyes again. Draco quickly pulled off his t-shirt and ripped it into strips to use as bandages for Harry's arms until he could get to his wand to heal the cuts. He wrapped the strips tightly around Harry's wrists and arms, putting pressure on the wounds and hoping it would stop the bleeding or at least slow it down some. He once again shook Harry and slapped him across the face trying to wake him up. "Potter! Damn it, Harry! Wake up! Come on; open those pretty green eyes for me. Please! Don't you dare fuckin' die on me! Do you hear me? I swear to Merlin, if you die I will find a way to bring you back just so I can fuckin' kill you myself! Do you hear me, Potter? Damn it, Harry, wake the fuck up!" He exclaimed. "Shit!"

Draco quickly picked Harry up and hurried down to the bathroom. Sticking Harry in the shower stall, he reached over and turned on the shower, raining cold water down onto the brunette boy, hoping to shock him awake. He knelt down next to the other boy and lightly slapped at his cheek, getting soaked in the process. Seeing that that wasn't working, Draco hauled back and slapped Harry as hard as he could.

As Draco's hand came in contact with Harry's face, the bloody boy let out a sharp gasp and his eyes fluttered but didn't open. Satisfied that the dark haired boy wouldn't die in the next few minutes, Draco jumped up and ran into his room across the hall and grabbed his wand before rushing back to the bathroom. Reentering the bathroom, he locked the door behind him and put up a silencing charm.

He hurried back over to Harry he once again shook the other boy nodding in satisfaction when a light groan escaped. Reassured that his patient hadn't died in the few seconds he was gone, the blonde pulled the bandages off Harry's left wrist and whispered a spell to clean the wound, then one to disinfect it, followed by one to close the cut. He repeated the spells three more times, cleaning and closing each cut on Harry's left arm before turning his attention to the right. He removed the bandages and cleaned and healed each cut, noticing that these seemed to be more jagged than the ones on the left arm. "Damn it, Harry, what did you do this for? I figured you were up there drinking every night, but I sure as hell didn't expect this." Draco muttered as he used the water from the shower to wash the excess blood off the other boy's arms, not even bothering to wash off the blood he had gotten on himself from carrying and healing Harry. Once Harry was cleaned off Draco turned off the shower and used a towel to dry the brunette's arms and dug around under the sink until he found a first aid kit. He pulled out some bandages and a healing cream then set about dressing Harry's wounds. After spreading the cream on the Gryffindor's arms he tightly wrapped them with the bandages from the first aid kit. Then he dug back into the first aid kit until he found a bottle of Blood Replenishing potion. He lightly tapped Harry on the face until he got a reaction before gently tipping a bit of the potion into the dark haired boy's mouth and gently massaging his throat, coaxing him to swallow. He repeated the process a couple more times until Harry had downed the whole bottle of potion.

Knowing he had done all he could, Draco once again scooped Harry up into his arms and exited the bathroom. Crossing the hall, he entered his own room gently kicking the door closed behind him he made his way over to the only bed in the room and gently set Harry down on one side and pulled the covers up over the unconscious boy. He stood back and stared at the other boy for a moment before reaching out and gently brushing a lock of hair out of the darker boy's eyes. He sighed deeply. "Sleep well, Harry," Draco murmured, "Because when you wake up, you have some serious explaining to do."

He then grabbed a pair of pajama pants and made his way back to the bathroom to shower and wash Harry's blood off of himself before returning to his room and climbing into bed next to the boy who had been his rival for so long, whose life he had just saved. His last thought before sleep claimed him was that tomorrow would no doubt be a long day.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Well, what do you think? Please, please, please review and let me know! I know it was really depressing, but I got the new Papa Roach CD for Christmas and this idea had been bugging me since about the third time I heard the song.

To be honest, I didn't really plan on having anyone save Harry. Originally, I had planned that he would succeed and die, but I just couldn't do that. And since I wanted the person who saved him to be someone who wouldn't really judge him too harshly for attempting suicide and someone who wouldn't suffocate him and constantly breathe down his neck afterward, I couldn't really use Hermione or any of the Weasleys. Which is how Draco ended up being the savior. It was either him or Snape and I could see Snape holding it against Harry or saying it was just a way for him to get more attention.

I had also planned for this to just be a one-shot, ya know since Harry was gonna die and everything. But since Harry was saved, that leaves it open for more chapters, even if it's only one or two. Let me know if you think I should leave it as is or if I should continue it.

Oh and FYI, this was 5 pages and 2,385 words including lyrics.

Thanx A Bunch,

Kyra