AN: It's been a long time coming I know but here's chapter two (finally) thank you to my first reviewer Greywolf25, you made my day!
Chapter 2: Every day is exactly the same.
As Harry had been making his way towards the castle, the screams and cheers signalling the end of the Quidditch match assaulted his ears making him grimace and break out into a run; he really didn't want to face the crowds of happy Hogwarts children to whom he'd be expected to smile and reply to their enquiries as to what he though was the best part of the match had been. Needless to say, he certainly wasn't in the mood for any human company and hadn't been for a while.
Once inside the blissfully warm castle of Hogwarts, Harry ascended the main staircase, with his head down and his hands thrust deeply into the pockets of his robes, ignoring the questioning stares of the few students who had not ventured into the cold outside to watch the match. Instead of taking his usual path and heading for Gryffindor tower and the familiarity of the common room, he turned on to the charms corridor and began looking for an empty classroom where nobody was likely to stumble upon him.
Everyone knew he'd been finding things hard lately, but nobody knew of the way he'd found to cope with it all. He didn't really remember how it started or what made him think of trying it in the first place but Harry'd come to realise the while emotional pain was too much for him to cope with, physical pain was not. After all, he wasn't exactly unfamiliar with it and the more he thought about it, it served as a pleasant distraction from the constant thoughts of inadequacy and emptiness that were causing havoc in his mind as of late. After defeating Voldemort Harry found himself just drifting through life; he and everyone else had been so focused on ridding the threat posed by Tom Riddle that Harry had never felt as though he was good at anything else, that he'd completed the only task he felt capable of and now there was just this stretch of empty time before him and not a whole lot of point in filling it. It was because of this that he always carried his sharpened potions knife in his pocket and the reason why he was careful to always wear long sleeves, so as to prevent awkward questions being asked regarding the current state of his forearms.
After finding a suitable classroom where he was unlikely to be disturbed, Harry cast a locking charm on the door and walked towards the back of the classroom before sitting at one of the desks and sighing heavily. Sometimes he wished he didn't feel like this, that every smile he gave to his friends wasn't forced and that his laughter wasn't fake but it was as though he couldn't remember how he used to be before the final battle, couldn't remember how to enjoy the things in his life. He slowly pulled up the sleeves of his robes to reveal his mutilated skin; newly healing cuts criss-crossed over older scars giving him the impression he was running out of skin. Even though he could see the blatant damage he'd done to his body, he still couldn't help but feel disconnected from it. It was hard to feel shocked at the state of his arms when he honestly couldn't remember what they had looked like before he'd started this. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his potions knife, placing it carefully on the desk in front of him. It had all got to be too much again but he'd only done this very thing a few days ago and already he felt the need to do it again, just so he could ignore the raging thoughts in his head and his feelings of hopelessness and utter despair that once more threatened to overwhelm him.
Holding the knife between the index finger and thumb of his right hand, Harry felt a shiver of anticipation run up his spine at what he was about to do as he carefully selected a space on his arm between two scars and placed the cool metal to his left forearm before quickly dragging the blade across his skin. An audible sigh of relief escaped his lips as the pain shot through him and his blood rushed to the surface of the new cut. It wasn't all that deep, but one wasn't nearly enough either. He repeated the process again and again, slashing at his skin with more ferocity each time, hearing it tear as well as feeling it until finally, with his arm burning and bleeding freely, he could, at last, ignore his own feelings again... if only for a while.
He sat perfectly still for quite some time, thankful it was Saturday and that he had the time to appreciate the stinging of his skin which seemed to be the only thing that ceased the racing flood of negativity that he was sure he'd drown in one day. Eventually he felt ready to face his friends and the rest of Hogwarts again, so, careful not to leave any trace of his presence in the classroom, he cast a few quick spells to remove the few spots of blood that had fallen to the floor and checked that everything was as it was before, he pulled down his sleeves and replaced his knife safely in the pocket of his robes,
'who knows when I'll need it next' he thought. With a ghost of a smile on his face, he checked the marauder's map for anyone nearby, after spotting only Ron and Hermione on the floor below and no one else on his floor, he quietly slipped out of the classroom.
Just as with every time before this, the effects of Harry's actions on Saturday had swiftly left him and by Monday morning he felt the palpable and familiar need coursing through him again, nearly crippling in its intensity. It had taken a great amount of effort to focus on not making a sound as he made sure he was the first one up in the boys dorm and silently retrieved his knife from his trunk, taking it with him as he went for a shower.
An hour later and he was clean and dressed waiting for Ron in the quiet common room, visibly much calmer with a dozen fresh cuts secretly burning under the cover of his robes. His mind wondered to the revelation he'd had in the shower not long ago whilst scoring fresh lines into his skin...
"..Merlin", he breathed in relief as he set his potions knife down in the soap dish before standing under the shower's rush of hot water once more, "I can't believe I had to do that again so soon." His quietly spoken words were barely audible above the noise from the shower but Harry was still glad he'd remembered to cast a silencing spell on the bathroom. It had become a habit of his recently, to talk to himself, almost as though there just wasn't enough room for all his thoughts in his head and some simply spilled out unannounced. He wondered sometimes if it were a sign he was about to have a break down and a chance glance at his arms as he turned around under the fall of water told him that, yes, perhaps he was. Annoyance suddenly flashed across his features, "...but if it helps me how can it be a bad thing? Why do I always try to stop myself?" He sighed heavily, "What makes it so wrong when it helps me feel better? Besides, it only seems fitting after all the death I've caused..." Images of all those close to him who had died so that he could live to kill Voldemort flashed unbidden into his mind: Dumbledore,Remus and Tonks,Cedric...Sirius...it was all too much...'
Harry's attention was abruptly snapped back to the present by Ron waving his hand in front of Harry's eyes as he fought to keep his expression neutral while he attempted to banish the unwanted images from his consciousness for the second time that morning.
"Oi! Harry? You coming to breakfast or what mate?"
"Come on you two, we'll be late for our first lesson if we don't hurry to breakfast soon," Hermione chided as she seemingly appeared from nowhere and hurried past them towards the portrait door, pausing only briefly to check that they'd heard her. Harry blinked stupidly a few times as his previous thoughts faded into the background and his attention snapped back to the Gryffindor common room.
"Yeah, we're coming 'Mione" Ron called after her, grabbing Harry's aching arm and, thankfully, not noticing Harry's wince of pain, pulled him to his feet. Still holding Harry's arm, Ron began to walk towards the exit but soon found himself struggling to pull an unmoving Harry along with him. He turned to face his friend and found a peculiar look spread across his face, a sort of pained expression which Harry tried to hide when he'd noticed Ron looking at him with a puzzled expression.
"Urgh..." Harry was suddenly lost for words, his abrupt need to be alone, away from everyone, including his best friend was overwhelming and all he could manage to get out of his mouth was an inarticulate grunt. When Ron had unwittingly touched his freshly mutilated arm it seemed to bring every bit of negativity in him rushing to the surface: his worthlessness, his despair and every other thing he hated about himself "...let me go and get my bag," he managed to mutter, "I'll meet you in the Great Hall, ok?" "Please Ron," he silently begged.
Ron looked torn between giving Harry his wish or to say something to try and find out what was causing Harry to act so strangely. "Ok mate, but you know you'll not hear the end of it from Hermione if you're late," he finished with a small, lopsided grin before reluctantly leaving Harry alone in the common room as he disappeared through the portrait hole to find Hermione.
Half an hour later in the Great Hall a worried Hermione could be seen anxiously glancing towards the two huge doors through which Harry Potter was still yet to emerge. Reluctantly, she turned back to her breakfast and her transfiguration book which was carefully propped up against a jug of pumpkin juice.
"He did say he was coming to breakfast didn't he?" She suddenly asked Ron who seemed to be trying to eat all the sausages on the table before the plate could keep re-filling itself.
"He only had to get his bag," he said as he swallowed a mouthful of food, "maybe he just lost track of time or something..." he trailed off, not even believing his own words.
"He seems to be doing that a lot though doesn't he? And we still don't know where he keeps disappearing off to, he just seemed to disappear completely after the Quidditch match and we had been right behind him." This, in Ron's opinion, was a favourite topic of Hermione's but he had to admit he did want to know where Harry had got to on Saturday, he didn't like the thought of secrets being kept from him, especially not if it was Harry who was keeping them, they were best friend's after all.
"Maybe he just decided to go back to the common room and we missed him? Or maybe he's got a girlfriend and doesn't want us to know?" At this, Hermione seemed to perk up a little bit,
"Do you think that could be it? Maybe he's been seeing Cho, she seems to be doing much better these days..." She said with a sort of dreamy look that girls seemed to get whenever romance was involved.
Hermione looked back over to Ron who had once again began attacking the plate of sausages as though he thought it might run out. She only hoped that that was what Harry was keeping from them both, a nice normal sort of secret, but something inside her told her that she was just kidding herself. She sincerely doubted that Harry had been sneaking off to secret meetings with a girlfriend, not when he'd been so withdrawn and dejected lately. She was determined to find out what was really going on, if only Harry were ever around to ask, things would be so much simpler.
As if it were rehearsed, Harry appeared in the entrance of the Great Hall and quickly scanned the Gryffindor table for his friends. He had been sitting alone in the common room for the past twenty minutes trying to convince himself that no, he did not need to use his knife again...but then remembered how it couldn't be such a bad thing if it helped him feel better and found himself almost running to his dorm to his trunk.
Harry sat down quietly between his two best friends in the space they'd made for him, the worried glance they shared was not lost on him and it was only a matter of seconds before Hermione turned to face him with a look of concern spread across her face.
"Are you ok Harry? It's just that you never really talk to us anymore and I know that there's something bothering you...if you want to talk ab-"
"Hermione I'm fine!" Harry all but shouted, making Neville and Ginny who were sitting near by look up from their breakfasts in surprise. He hadn't meant to shout, not really, He had been in quite a good mood but it felt as though people were still expecting so much of him, hadn't he just saved them from Voldemort like they wanted? Couldn't they just leave him alone? He knew he'd hurt Hermione but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care.
"I'll see you in potions," he told them as he got up from the table and left the Great Hall.
