Title: Below the Water's Surface
Prompt: Written for the 'And the Tears Streaming Down Your Face' challenge on HPFC
Warnings: Self Harm, Substance Abuse, Character Death
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a trademarked brand owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Any material used belongs to the aforementioned parties. This material is only used in recreational purposes and I receive no monetary or material rewards from using it. Please don't sue me.
November 11th, 1998
Stephen Cornfoot is handling it. It, being the suffocating depression that threatens to consume him every time he closes his eyes, opens his eyes, takes a breath… You get the picture.
After Wayne caught him in the throes of a nightmare at the beginning of term, Stephen makes a point of sealing and silencing the yellow curtains that rim his four-poster every night before he tries (and fails) to sleep.
Because if Wayne, or Justin (or anyone really) found out about Stephen's nightly terrors? He doesn't know if he could stand the embarrassment.
And that's just it; it's embarrassing, how effected Stephen was by the war. And maybe it'd be more understandable if Stephen had actually played a major part in the war: fought in a battle or was injured or kidnapped, but he wasn't.
Stephen Cornfoot did not play a major part in the war. He did not fight in a battle or get injured or kidnapped.
Stephen Cornfoot watched in horror as layer after layer of a hastily crafted world crumbled around him, despite his best efforts and sincere prayers for it all to just stop. And as spotty as he is, Stephen does occasionally need structure.
Is he traumatized? Stephen doesn't think so. 'Pathetic' would be a more appropriate moniker, at least in his eyes. He doesn't need pity or sympathy or a listening ear. It doesn't need anyone or anything:
He's handling it.
(Stephen didn't know it would end up like this. Maybe if he had, he would have gotten help)
November 19th, 1998
Stephen Cornfoot is still handling it. All by himself in the dead of night, and with the help of a highly scrutinized sleep aid, but he's desperate and determined to work by himself.
It's well known to anyone with any kind of experience in Potions, Magical Medicine/Healing, or Wizarding Law that Dreamless Sleep potions are highly addictive, and when used over long periods of time, cause the user to build a tolerance against them.
Stephen is a pure-blooded, rather well educated young wizard, and so is well aware of the dangers of the innocent looking vial of purple potion clutched in his hands. However, Stephen's already tried a normal sleeping potion and discovered an infuriating allergy to Valerian Sprigs, so he's had to up the ante.
It's with nervously twitching fingers that the Hufflepuff peels off the wax seal that rims the edge of the flask.
He just so tired. All Stephen wants to do is sleep through the night. Is that really so much to ask?
(It's sad, isn't it? The things shame and desperation can drive a man to do)