Anger and Confusion

Author's Note I'm back with my second chapter for this story! Just so you know, I had a lot of fun on my little trip. I will be updating this story every Friday from now on. Anyways, back to the story.

Disclaimer I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I just like to have my own twisted ways with them. : )

Rated R for violence, slash, language, and so on

Summary Harry's 6th year. The wizarding world turns its back on Harry, so Harry decides to turn his back, too. Harry becomes depressed and suicidal. Well, until a certain Slytherin comes along and gives him a reason to keep fighting, to keep living. HD slash.

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Chapter 2

Just a Letter

Harry dropped the razor on the floor beside him. He looked down at the blood trickling down his arm. As he watched the blood trickle down, he noticed that a few droplets of blood appeared on the Dursley's cream white tile floor. Harry slowly began to pick himself up off of the cold bathroom floor.

He loved the new feeling that his body was going through, but at the same time he couldn't believe what he had just done. As he watched his blood flow out of the wound and down onto his arm, he felt shame. It just didn't seem right, but yet he loved the feeling so much he wanted to cut himself again and again. Just so he could watch the blood run out of his arm.

The more he watched the blood, the more he began to feel. He could actually feel the pain. He loved it, but at the same time he hated it. Before, he could just pretend that it was all some kind of horrible nightmare and that eventually he would wake up; but now, he knew. He knew that it wasn't just some dream; he knew that this was his life. In dreams you can get cut and it won't hurt, but in life it does hurt. He loved being able to feel it, because now that he knew that it was real he could move on in life.

He walked over towards the finely made sink in his aunt and uncle's bathroom. He turned on the water and tried to clean his cut. He tried to wash away his blood; he tried to wash away the evidence of the crime he had committed. He wanted to wash it all away so nobody would know about his new little pleasure.

Harry tried and tried to wash away his blood, to wash away his new little sins. But it just didn't matter, the harder he tried to clean it up the cut or to cover the cut, it just bled more. Finally, after a few minutes of trying to clean himself up he just gave up. He looked through the medicine cabinet until he found what he was looking for. He wrapped the bandage around his wound until he thought that it was sufficient enough.

He slowly opened the door to the bathroom and began to sneak out. He had to be extremely quite, for he did have to pass his cousin's room in order to get to his own. Harry was half way there when he heard a noise. He didn't know what it was from but it did sound an awful like Dudley talking in his sleep. Once he passed Dudley's room he was safe and quickly and quietly went back to his bedroom.

As Harry entered his room he grabbed his tee shirt and tore it off, leaving it and his pants in a little pile in the centre of the room. Harry had felt very tired, but he didn't want to go to sleep. He was afraid. He wasn't afraid of the dark or anything, but he was afraid of the nightmares he had while he slept. He was tired of the nightmares; he was tired of watching Sirius and Cedric die over and over. He was tired of watching the sick things that Voldemort did to people. Harry took his glasses off and laid them on the bedside table and then proceeded to lay himself down onto his bed.

He started to stare out of his bedroom window; he couldn't really make out any objects since his glasses were no longer on his face. None the less, he stared out the window trying to make out the shapes of the other houses, the streetlights, trees, and stars. Longer he stared at an object the odder the object started to look. Longer he looked out the window the heavier his eyelids became.

Finally Harry decided that it didn't matter how bad the nightmares may be, he needed to sleep. As long as he at least got one hour of sleep, the nightmare would be worth it. The young boy rolled over in his bed and started to drift off to sleep, when he heard a clicking noise on the window.

When he turned around to look at what it was, it looked like an owl; like Ron's owl, Pig. Harry jumped out of bed put his glasses on and pulled the window open, letting Pig into his room. The little owl flew a lap around Harry's room before he dropped the letter in Harry's lap then laid himself down on Harry's desk.

Harry desperately ripped the letter open, he was hoping that it would be Ron's letter saying that they were coming to take him out of this place, away from Little Whinging, to take him away from his aunt and uncle's house. But what was on the inside of this letter was nothing that Harry could have suspected.

Harry,

I hate to have to tell you like this mate, but I'm sorry. You can't come out to the burrow this summer. Mum and Dad said that 'we just have to many things going on.' I don't know what my mum and dad are on about; they've been acting well, strange.

Well they've been acting strange ever since Percy, came back to the family saying how sorry he is. And how he can now see the errors of his ways. He keeps going on and on about how Fudge said that if he put as much distance between you and us that would be the best thing to do. That it would be in the best interest of everyone.

It's a load of crap if you ask me, but mum is buying; and dad doesn't dare cross her. I personally believe that he's got something up his sleeve. He's always been the slimy one of the family. Fred and George, now they are tricky, but they aren't two-timers like Percy.

I know that you were really looking forward to coming out, but you can't. I really want you to, I mean, I don't really want you staying out there at the Dursley's. Well, especially after well, you know. I'm going to miss having you around Harry. I really wish mum and dad would let you come out here, but I don't know. I hope the Muggles aren't treating you to badly. I wish you could be here. If you can, write back sometime. It would be nice getting an owl from you!

Ron

p.s. Guess What!!! It finally happened!! Me and 'Mione are well, you know, together!! See you on September the 1st. Oh yeah, by the way, Happy Early Birthday!! I don't think I'll get another chance to tell you, so I might as well now.

Harry dropped the letter in confusion. He couldn't understand what Ron had meant. What did they mean by 'we just have to many things going on?' What in the fuck could they possibly be doing that's so important? There's nothing that they could be doing, they don't have the money to do anything. There is obviously something that Ron isn't telling me. There has to be something.

The whole summer he had been looking forward to getting out of this hell hole and now he finds out that he has to stay here. He knew that Dumbledore wanted him to stay out at his aunt and uncle's house for at least 3 weeks, but not for the whole summer. Surely someone anyone would soon come and get him out of here.

Harry fell numbly to the floor. His world started to spin in confusion and anger. Harry was mad at the world; he hated everyone. It wasn't fair that he had to stay here. He clenched his hands into fists. He needed another release for his anger. He couldn't control himself. He picked himself up off of the floor. He was pacing across the room. He needed to hit something.

For a brief moment, Harry thought of returning to the bathroom and using his uncle's razor again. But he quickly shoved that thought out of his mind; he was still bleeding from the last cut. He needed another release; he needed something else to help him ease the pain.

Harry walked over towards the wall of his bedroom. He punched the wall as hard as he could. Pain shot through his arm. But the pain of what he had just done was worse. When he looked down at the hole he had made in the wall, the hole he had made by shoving his hand through the wall.

"Fuck." Harry said, trying to think of something to do, so that the Durleys wouldn't find it.

Harry quickly grabbed one of the calendars on his desk and tacked it to the wall. It didn't really hide it, but it was good enough. He didn't care if they found out or not anymore. They still locked him up, they still beat him, they still ignored him, anyway. What else could they possibly do? Ground him? Right, they wouldn't even bother saying it to me, it would be a waste of their breath.

Harry walked back over to his bed, trying to calm himself down. The young boy tried to take deep breaths. He tried to become more relaxed, but it just didn't work. He laid himself down on his bed; he looked up at the white ceiling, unseeing.

What is going on? Why doesn't anyone want to help me out of here? Why hasn't Hermione, Hagrid, Lupin, or even Dumbledore sent him even just one owl? I need to know what's going on out there. I need to know what is up with Voldemort. I need out of this house. I need to be back in the wizarding world.

I can't just sit around here. I need to do something. I need to help. I can help the order. I can tell them the kind of dreams I've had. I can do anything besides sit here. They could use my help. I just wish that they would let me help. What is going on out at the Weasley's? Hermione told me that she didn't even like Ron, now she's dating him. That's odd. Maybe something happened between them.

Harry still staring up at his ceiling grabbed his pillow and tried to smother himself with it. He took the pillow off of his face and laid his head back down on to it. He rolled over wanting to go to sleep, wanting to just lose himself in the dream, wanting to just disappear off the face of the Earth.

Harry was starting to drift off to sleep. When the next thing Harry saw was a flash of green light and he was being jerked out of his bed. He felt like he was going through a portkey. He landed with a loud and hard smack onto the floor into an unfamiliar room. As he got up and looked around he felt sick to his stomach.

Around the room, were bodies. Bodies chained to the wall. Some of them looked as though they were alive and others, well others looked as though they had been chained there for years. As he looked at them he noticed that most of them were men, some were women, and there were even a few children.

Some of the men had their backs facing Harry. Harry could see their shoulder blades sticking out through the skin. Others were missing legs and arms. And the blood. There was blood all over the room. Some of the blood was still red from the freshness and some of it a brownish colour.

It took a while for Harry to notice a black chair in the centre of the room. In front of it was a desk covered in papers. There was a knock on the door and the man in the black chair turned around, Voldemort. Two more men walked into the room carrying another man. Carrying him as if he was a hostage.

"Ah, Mister Malfoy and Mister Snape, I was hoping you two would be by soon." Voldemort's cold voice said into the room.

TBC

Author's Note: Please, Please review. Again, this story will be posted every Friday! See ya next chapter!!