Authors note:

This part does get a bit graphic. There will be blood and self harm. Sorry to make people feel sad but that's just how my brain works. Also swearing but that'll be the least of your worries with where i'm taking this if you know what i mean ;P


Harry's POV

The front page of the daily prophet was flashing in Harry's hand. Another Death Eater Convicted! There was an image of a wizard Harry faintly remembered from back in the graveyard was shouting at whoever it was taking the picture giving the feel he was shouting at the reader.

Another death eater down eh? Strange to think that so many people, all of which thought they were invincible were all hiding in their holes and being hunted, just like the people they had hunted. Serves them right, they were all evil and cruel... Well... There was maybe one exception...

Harry shook his head. It was strange, lately that quirky blonde he had spent so many years hating kept creeping into his thought. I wonder where he is? Is he being hunted? Probably is, the entire Malfoy family was being hunted last I heard... I still have his wand... it was true. Harry had never had the chance to return Malfoy his wand. How was he getting by without it?

Harry threw the paper away, knowing Kreature would pick it up for him later. Harry had tried to persuade Kreature to go and be free, but he politely refused saying "He was too old to be running around like a young fool" and had stayed with Harry these past two years. Harry had tried to make life more comfortably for the aging house elf, picking up after himself, being nice to him. He knew Hermione was happy with Kreature's treatment. She and Ron occasionally visited Harry, when they weren't too busy with each other. Ever since Harry had defeated lord Voldemort the pair had been inseparable It was kinda gross, all the googly eyes and the pecks on the cheek. Harry was slightly jealous of Ron for having someone like that. Harry knew Ginny would take him back in a heartbeat but he wasn't sure he wanted that. Harry had broken up with her shortly after attempting to get back together. It was just too hard for Harry. He couldn't stand to be near anyone for long lengths of time. Except Ron and and Hermione of course. Besides, anyone who came near him always got hurt...

Harry's fingers began to drum on the wood below him in a discordant pattern. So many images were flooding his brain again. As was Harry's norm. Yet still, this onslaught was particularly bad today. There were no other words to describe it. Harry had sunk into a deep and absolute depression. Ever since he had defeated lord Voldemort all Harry could think about was all the darkest parts of himself he had hidden away and just never noticed. He had always been too busy with school and finding the horcrux's to think about it properly until now. Now that he was alone...he realised everything he had caused.

For two whole year, two fucking years, he had been alone. More alone than when he lived under the stairs. Then he had uncle Vernon or Dudley or someone. Not to help him of course, but somehow hearing their voices had always made things a little bit more bearable Even Dudley had actually turned around and apologised for being so horrible to him and even thanked him for saving his life. And now even they were gone. Harry had no idea where they were or what had happened to them. They could all be dead for all he knew. Just like everyone else was.

Hundreds...No, thousands of people were dead. Not because of some storm or natural disaster or man made disaster. But because of him. He may not have held the wand that did it, but he had held the cause. If he had died on that night as a child they would all still be alive. Dumbledoor, Snape, Lupin, Fred, Tonks, Mad eye, his parents...Sirius... Harry felt his throat constrict. Even now after all these years, Sirius' death was the hardest to cope with. Harry had never known his real father, Sirius was the closest thing he had ever had to one. In the four brief years he had known him, Sirius Black had felt more like a father than anything Harry could have ever imagined. Then to watch him die...right in front of him...slaughtered like a dog...

Harry was aware of the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks, but did nothing to stop them this time. It's not like there was anybody there to see them. Why even bother anymore. He just wished the world would forget about him. About "The famous Harry Potter! The boy who lived!". That was all he was, a title, a media construct. Not one person out there, save Ron and Hermione, knew anything real about him. Only what stupid black words on a piece of paper told them. One step outside into London was enough to be surrounded by admirers or media dogs trying to grab any little bit of discriminating information about him. I wish they could all just...just...fuck off and leave me the hell alone to die...

Maybe, just maybe, if he hadn't tried to be so noble and live up to everyones expectations, so many more people would still be alive. That whole battle at Hogwarts could have been solved almost as soon as it had started if he had just handed himself in. But no. Stupid selfish Harry had hidden behind all of his friends and loyal servants as they died for him. He may as well killed them all himself, it would have been quicker and less painful. Now he had to try and make it through each passing day holding the knowledge he was responsible for their early demises.

Him...All him...no one else was to blame... Harry bit back a small sob. He should just go and fucking die... Dark thoughts snuck their way into Harry's brain once more. Would anybody really miss him? Ron and Hermione certainly would, but they would understand. Other than that, who? Everyone he had ever known had had their lives ruined in some way by Harry. They would probably be glad to see him go. And it would be quick too. Harry knew the spell, how simple it would be. He'd died before. Death held no fear... People waited for him there. More people than those left with the living. Just two words...

Harry was sobbing now. He couldn't do it. He was too weak to die... to kill himself... Besides he deserved to feel this way. He deserved to feel the pain he had caused the world. Before he had even realised he was doing it Harry was staggering down the corridor and up the stairs. Even the house seemed to leer at him, as if judging him for not being it's rightful owner. And he wasn't. Sirius belonged here, not him. And he was gone. His soul forever extinguished because of Harry. Harry stumbled into the black tiled and stared into the silver rimmed mirror.

He hardly even recognise himself anymore. Harry was wearing what to the wizarding world would consider a muggle get up, a white shirt with a black unzipped hoodie that was all rumpled. His hair had grown shaggy and unkempt There were hardened lines that definitely hadn't been there before. A light stubble was beginning to show too. But the most startling difference of all was the darkness in his eyes. His once vibrant green eyes were dull with dark bags under them, filled with every emotion he had been unable to speak aloud to anyone. Not Ron or Hermionie knew just how far into the darkness he had sunk. Harry had always managed to put on such a convincing act whenever they showed up. They never noticed the pain that filled his every waking moment...Pain that needed release.

Harry's hands were shaky, but moved with an accuracy and precision that came with the action he had become accustom to. He could use his wand but the muggle way always seemed to have more meaning to it. Harry bit back a sob as the steel ran across his exposed skin, drawing blood instantly. It wasn't a particularly deep one, but the cut still seemed to ooze as much blood as if he had repeated that deep gash he had made awhile ago. The one time he hadn't cared if if had killed him or not. But now he didn't want death, only to feel the suffering he had caused so many others. Another slash. A second red line appeared under the first. But that still wasn't enough. He didn't deserve to let himself off so easily. He deserved all of this. Harry let out a strangled sob. He was a moster... and monsters deserved to die. Harry felt tears splash down his face as a third slash formed. Blood poured from the self inflicted wounds and dripped slowly down his arm to fall into the black sink. Black, black black. Everything here was black. It was almost as if Harry's soul was being reflected onto the walls. He had tainted this house with his misery...

"Fuck..." He didn't mean to whimper but the fourth cut hurt even more than the others. But it was a good hurt. It meant he was doing it right. Not going easy on himself like he had done on the first months. He had to take this punishment, as if this would somehow atone for his sins. Harry gave a sick shiver. He was beginning to feel a bit light headed. And maybe Harry was just masochistic but he truly liked the feeling of the blood dripping down his arm... Maybe it was just because he was getting slightly dizzy. Dizzy was good... dizzy ment...

A loud knock shook the house. Harry froze, silver blade suspended in the air just above his arm. Was that the door? Another timid knock. Harry shakily pulled out his wand and muttered a quick word at his arm.

"Tergeo...Emaculo" He whispered. If it was Ron and Hermione he definitely didn't want them to see this. Harry watched as the blood stopped and began to be syphoned away by the wand, leaving no more than a tender pink line that would easily tear. Harry could have mended it completely but decided not to. Scars didn't bother Harry in the slightest. They were a sign of his struggle. Harry slowly descended the stairs and stared at the door. Who on earth could it be, and why now of all times? Why not when he needed someone to talk to or...just not when he had been doing that! He placed his fingers lightly on the golden door knob and turned it slowly.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. Standing before him, looking almost as disheveled as Harry himself, was Draco Malfoy. He was wet head to foot from the rain bucketing down from the sky, making him look tiny and insignificant. He looked up timidly into Harry's eyes. Malfoy's face was almost as bad as Harry's. It had gone from that pristine cleanliness Harry had always known him for into a lifeless mess. His golden hair hung limp around his shoulders his grey eyes were wide with fear and rimmed with red as if he had been crying. Harry noticed he wasn't even wearing his clock. He was in a simple black t-shirt with the name of some sort of muggle band on the front. There was also a large cut across his forehead slowly seeping blood down his face. He looked worse than when he was a death eater.

"...Draco?" Harry asked quietly, not quite believing it was truly him.

"...Potter..." His voice croaked. He had definitely been crying by the sounds of it.

"What...what are you doing here?" Harry blinked. This seemed to break whatever spell was over Malfoy. Before Harry ever saw it coming Malfoy had practically tackled him. Harry stumbled backward. What the! Is he attacking me?! Harry was ready to hit Draco when he felt something wet hit his neck. Harry looked down confused. Draco Malfoy was holding Harry's shirt in his pale fingers and had buried his head in Harry's shoulder and wept. His delicate structure shook as he sobbed into Harry. He wasn't sure why, but the sight made something stir inside Harry, something he had long since forgotten. Carefully, he moved his arms and slowly wrapped them around the blonde. He didn't know why Malfoy was crying...in fact, he didn't care why. He just didn't want to see him like this, going through such pain, no matter what the cause. Just like he had... So Harry held him, unsure why exactly he was compelled to, and waited for Draco's silvery eyes to dry...