Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter in the slightest(and there will end up being slash in the story as fair warning.)

He took a deep breath, the icy cold air biting against his lungs as he kept his eyes screwed shut. His hands clutching his sleep pants enough to hear the light prick of the fraying string being stretched to its limit. Against his better judgement, what little there was left, he shuffled his bare feet slightly across the stone, and peeked his toes over the edge, and opened his eyes.

Lifeless green eyes stared listlessly forward into the night. He wiggled his toes and glanced down, making deep brown hair fall down over his eyes. Below him, he swept his gaze over Hogwarts grounds, even from the astronomy tower, the school looked magnificent.

A gust of wind flowed through the tower, making him shiver, and rub his legs through his pants, "If I just stepped off, it would get rid of the cold immediately, no need for a jacket." He whispered lightly to himself.

Then he chuckled, before looking forward again, and closing his eyes tightly as he began to laugh out loud manically, and tears tried to leak from his eye sockets.

" Oh, Merlin," he crowed with false humor," if I stepped off I wouldn't need anything, except maybe a casket."

He froze a second, before blowing out a puff of air and falling into more laughter, his body teetering on the edge, deliciously close to dangerous. Laughter echoed about the several minutes, before it suddenly cut off, and was replaced by silence.

'Pros,' he went over in his head again on why he was doing this,' get to meet mum and dad. Don't have to deal with Moldy Shorts, or Umbitch.' He giggled slightly at his nicknames for them.

'Cons, leaving Sirius and Remus behind. Voldemort will probably take over the world, kill Padfoot and Moony.' He paused in his thought his brow furrowed in curiosity,' but if we're all dead, then I'll get to see them soon, and no one will ever have to worry about anything ever again.'

A goofy grin crawled on to his face, creasing the water marks left on his face from dried up tear tracks. His feet scooted further over the edge and he began to hum a tuneless song, only he new the words to.

He was ready to give up, fifth year had barely started and it was already hell, he just doesn't want to put up with it anymore. Cedric died after the final task, and Voldemort was resurrected, there was no way he could do anything worth while to help.

Plus, Voldemort was only really after him on most counts, why not just help him along. The only thing he was leaving behind were Sirius and Remus. He had no friends, not even in Ron and Hermione, he had accidentally spied on them when he finally arrived at the safe house everyone was staying in.

They were only using him for his fame and money, money he didn't even know he had, because his magical guardian 'forgot' to mention he had a huge inheritance from his parents. His magical guardian being one Albus-to-many-names-Dumblefuck.

His 'friends', were apparently getting money from the headmaster to watch him, keep him in line. Make sure he didn't do anything evil, and just keeping him stupid on all subjects. It was all planned out for him to, his whole life being coordinated and he didn't even notice.

The thing the stuck in his thoughts the most though, was that they planned to have him die, and he didn't even know why. Hermione and Ron had stopped talking, because Mrs. Weasley had started screeching about dinner being ready.

He was suddenly left then, not knowing who to trust anymore, except Remus and Sirius. Which was only because his friends loud complaining about them getting in their way of controlling him, is what had made him listen into their conversation in the first place.

There was just so much lying, and he didn't even understand it all, but he doesn't care, because he's going to end it, and erase all the pain he is suffering from.

Erase every beating his uncle gave him for breathing, all the slaps from his aunt for talking. Every inappropriate touch from his first year school teacher, and all the scars he'd gotten from Harry Hunting with his cousin. Wipe away all the nightmares from watching Quirrell turn to dust from his own hands, and seeing Slytherines monster reel back and prepare to strike him.

He's never going to need to cower in fear at hearing his mothers screams from the dementors, because where he's going there shouldn't be any. He smiled slightly, as he imagined being able to apologize to Cedric.

With that final thought, he lifted a foot off the cold floor and took a step forward.