Scifinerd92 - Glad you find it intriguing and thanks for the review. This is how Harry plays into it, hope you like it! ^_^

Chapter Two:

Contemplations

"Do you know what it means to be loved by death?"

'Everything I never wanted to happen has. Everything I knew has been taken from me. Everybody around me keeps dying, they continue to be swallowed up by death and it is all because of me. Why do I have this omen hanging over my head? Why does everybody look to me for their answers, to be saved? How do they expect me to save them when I can barely save myself? Can't they see I'm not what they wanted, can't they tell I am anything but a saviour?'

XX

Harry stood at the window sill, peering through it and up into the midnight sky. The stars shown beautifully down, helping the moon light up the Hogwarts Grounds. He could not sleep, and barely did these days. Nobody asked him where he was anymore, nobody asked him why he never slept because they already knew why. He slept to avoid the nightmares that plagued him, tortured him and contorted his mind a little more each evening.

He once looked across these Grounds in excitement, but all those type feelings had been wrenched from deep inside of himself and all that was left was this great hole in the center of it all. This gaping nothing, that called to him and was beginning to feel like home.

It was a wonder to him, how others could continue about daily acting as if nothing was wrong. How Ron could play Wizard's Chess with Ginny and laugh amusedly, or how Hermione could study in the library contently, how they could read the news of Muggle and Half-Blood murders every single morning but pretend it was nothing.

Slowly he was becoming less sympathetic of their needs, of their wishes for him to go out there and be their martyr. It was time he choose his own destiny, but at the sametime he had no other choice but to follow the path laid out in hot stones. Hah, destiny. Harry chuckled darkly, clasping his hands together on the ledge as his knuckles turned white.

Long ago destiny had taken the lives of his parents and also determined his own. That Halloween eve, fourteen odd years prior, Harry wished had never happened. Now his wishing had turned to pleas that his parents had never seen past their differences and unionized themselves, allowing for him to never been born and never having to feel this pain so wrathful it was brewing a monster in him.

He knew that when the war came to its fullest peak, he would have to kill with his bare hands and his wand. He knew he would be taking many other children's parents away, and all of their lives would be affected just because he had made it so. Harry had become comfortable with this knowledge and he almost condoned the future actions that must be carried out for the 'sake of War'. A useless war, one where neither side had anything worth fighting for. It was all selfish bigotry and arrogance that started it, and it would sure as hell be what ended it in a bloody rage.

Harry used to hope he would be on the winning side; that the Light would succeed, and momentarily his face would flash across all the papers victoriously with Albus Dumbledore standing strong at his side. Now he was not so sure of what he wanted, for it was becoming ever more apparant that even if the War ended his facade never could.

On nights like these, Harry hoped for Voldemort and his Death Eaters to come and take him away, Dumbledore's Secret Weapon, and murder him. He didn't even care if they tortured him first. Used the Cruciatus Curse a thousand times, lashed him to pieces - Harry just didn't care anymore. He wanted the pure darkness, the complete silence and lonliness of the afterlife. He longed for it. Maybe even he could see his parents there, and Sirius too.

When there wasn't enough energy for him to lie to himself or hope any longer, Harry would just allow the void to indulge and grow blacker inside of himself. It's not like he minded it, the only problem was that Hermione, Ron, Remus and others that were close to him were being hurt because of it.

Did they not see how much their dependancy and hopefulness was killing him? Did they not understand that if you stare at the dawn for too long, you might miss the sunrise entirely?

Harry understood, which was probably the worst thing of all. Life would be so much simpler if he were naive, if he just did what he was told to do without a second thought of the consequences and the eventual outcome. He could act just like a normal Hogwarts student, asides from his extracurricular lessons with Professor Snape, Remus and Professor Dumbledore. All could be simple, if he were thick enough.

So, when everybody else lay deep in their fitless slumbers Harry envied in the Gryffindor dormitories, Harry would venture outside and usually up to the highest point of the Astronomy Tower to look out across the Forbidden Forest, the Black Lake and the Grounds. He would shut off his mind, shut off his emotions and just enjoy the security that the endless night brought to him. It soothed his bubbling rage, his magick growing so much stronger by the day that it threatened to explode from his core.

It was the fourth day into the first term of Sixth Year at Hogwarts, and it felt like he had already been there for months. Harry would have preferred to have stayed at Grimmauld Place, mourning Sirius and completing his studies there but Dumbledore would not hear of it whatsoever, saying the proper social interaction was quite necessary in his development. Harry thought otherwise, he thought that Dumbledore just wanted to keep him in the public's eye so that Death Eaters and Voldemort himself were not suspicious of any activity the Order of The Pheonix could be planning.

All of a sudden a chill ran down Harry's spine and a feeling of being watched came to him. He stiffened and straightened up, his hand went to his cloak pocket and rested around the length of his wand even though he was already trained to cast spells without it. "What do you want?" he hissed in the night, without turning around to find out who it was behind him. Why should he care? He just wanted them gone, he wanted this Tower to himself.

There was no response but Harry could still feel anothers presence, there was a small suond of feet shifting slightly and he felt the person coming closer to him. Harry closed his eyes tightly and sighed, leaning more heavily on the windows ledge now as the person was less than a foot behind him. "What do you want?" he insisted through gritted teeth once again.

"The question is," a voice purred, breathing cool air on the side of his cheek, tickling his ear, "What do you want?"

Harry shivered involuntarily. He recognized the voice and was about to put a face to it, but then they spoke again and seemed to be closing in even more as the brunette was paralyzed. "You think of death. Of darkness and destruction. I hear your thoughts of a hopeless future, and the deepest of desires for eternal night," they continued on, their voice like molten chocolate so coarse dripping deeply. "What would you say if I could offer that to you? A life, separate from the one you live now, but a dead life?"

"I would say yes," Harry quickly answered without thought, for any life was better than the one he was currently stuck inside of.

The man behind him chuckled darkly, and suddenly there was a hand grasping Harry's nape of his neck. The hand was slender with long, glass-like fingernails and adorned with flawless pale skin. It felt as cold as death as it grasped him in place. "You must not be so rash, for you do not know what you ask for,"

"And you don't know what I need to get away from," Harry snapped, whoever this was was beginning to get on his nerves. The man sounded so sure of himself, so upright in his words.

"Oh, but I do Harry. And I would very much like to take you away from it, but in due time. We must not be vast in our actions. Besides, I would very much like to court this the chivalrous way," the man laughed amusedly.

Harry could have sworn he felt lips, soft as silk, graze the other side of his neck overtop of his messy raven hair. Then fast fingers pushed aside his locks and the strangers hand held him more tightly now, almost painfully if it didn't feel so good. The razor-like nails dug into Harry's hard flesh and droplets of blood appeared on his skin, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure as his mind blurred. 'Why does it feel good?' he asked himself absently, he was being injured but for some reason something inside of himself was telling him it was supposed to be pleasurable.

"For now, I shall give you a taste of what I am offering you. You will know me after this Harry, you will not only see me but see into me. As I already see into you," the voice faded as teeth were brought down onto Harry's neck.

It was safe to say that these were not regular teeth, as two sharp fangs easily pierced through his skin with a sickening sound. Blood rushed excitedly from his veins, throbbing outwards and into the others eager mouth. Harry heard the man moan gutturally with desire as his tongue lapped at the wound, he sucked and licked all the blood that poured out of the mortal.

Harry felt himself growing weak rapidly. His knees were giving in and he would have fallen if not for the stronghold of the man drinking his blood. His mind was beginning to slip from himself until he finally got what he asked for; Nothingness.