A/N: There's a bit of swearing in this chapter, it's just how I'd see he'd be. And no matter what I imply THERE IS NO HARRY SLASH IN THIS FIC. Okay? Just thought I'd clear that up because I'm introducing a new concept.
Thanks to: FroBoy, The SilverLady.
gopherisgood - Thanks! Great, I'll try for no Sirius slash, I don't think there'll be much romance in this fic at all. Thanks for the review!
Aiden Aterangelus - Here's some more assurance, but don't worry, it's not the only stuff coming. Intrigued? Hm. I don't know if I'm living up to everyone's expectations with this chappie, but I'd love some feedback from you! Thanks!
FawkesRises - blush Brilliant? Wonderful! Seamus and Malfoy, well, you'll see, I'm trying to further develop them (I think they're seriously underdeveloped in the books!). I get the drift. Thanks heaps!
lucidity - Thank you. :D. You made me feel a hundred times better. Again, thanks and hope to hear from you again!
angel74 - Everyone seems to be confused by Seamus. Why? I could say he appeared coincidentally (not saying he did) and would that satisfy anything? A big piece of the picture is actually missing (I could write a companion piece!). Oh and your Seamus-Harry discussion is in here. I'm sorry if Seamus' role isn't completely clear, but he's like one of those people who turn up when you need them ;). Nah, I'm not really sure (companion piece?). Draco enters for a reason that my twisted mind has made up. Hope it makes sense to you. Thanks!
RAiNbOwGrL22 - Anytime, my friend. Cool, I'll check it out sometime. Do you? Is he nice? Thank you. Hope you like my Draco ;).
Riffinton - Depressing, oh dear, this one will too though. I know exactly how you feel. I've always known I was extremely moody, but when I'm happy, I'm considered strange, people looked at me weirdly and asked if I was okay. There's my life. Thanks.
---
Chapter 10
Harry dragged the knife across his arm slowly, his eyes closing. Nothing could touch him. No one could touch him. Harry knew what he was doing. He always did. And nothing felt better. He was scarring himself. It didn't matter. He loved the feeling of total release and relaxation that flooded over him. He loved the feeling of utter control.
This was the one thing he had control over. Total control. He controlled where he cut, how deep, when, everything! Even when his life was spinning he still had this thread of control. And control was everything.
Vivid images in his mind. Vivid pictures. Blood. Death. Voldemort. Cedric. Ron. Dumbledore. Gryffindor. Sirius. His parents. White. Remus. Black.
His head tipped back slightly, his mouth open, he let out a sigh. He felt detached and loved it. No guilt as he thought of Cedric. No fear and loathing as he thought of Voldemort. No duty when he thought of Gryffindor. Nothing. Yes, he loved it. Harry laughed in a slightly hysterical way. If he couldn't yet have the release of death, he could take release in this.
When he cut there was an absence of mind. A recluse of thought. Like someone had taken pity on him and given him a second to just be. To be.
(/)
Harry knew Sirius was in the next room, and he was probably wondering why he was taking so long. Probably dreading finding out. Putting it off. Unconsciously, of course.
"'Ello Harry! How's the party?!"
"You're drunk, Seamus, come on." Harry hoisted Seamus off the wet grass. Of course, it didn't really matter that the grass was wet, as it was pouring down with rain.
"I'm not drunk, 'Arry! I'm fine here." He weighed a ton and he truly did seem to want to be back on the ground again. It took a minute of dragging Seamus back to the entrance for Harry to notice Seamus was crying. He sighed inwardly. His friend had been very down over Dean lately, this had to happen sometime.
"How'd you get the alcohol anyway?"
"Gred and Forge." The slurred reply came back. The twins. There was the obvious.
Harry grabbed a couple of towels from the shelf as he marched Seamus into the showers and shoved him under warm water. He dried himself before leading Seamus back out of the showers to get a new change of clothes.
"Harry?"
"Yeah, Seamus?" The shower hadn't sobered the boy up, but that was to be expected, who knows how much he'd had? Seamus would have a mean hangover tomorrow.
"Tell me a bedtime story." A bedtime story? What was he, a fairy godmother? Harry groaned.
"Once upon a time there was a kid who's parents were dead so he lived with his aunt and uncle, who were both evil and hated him." Seamus wouldn't remember this in the morning anyway, so what did it matter what he told him?
"They locked him in a cupboard, made him do all the chores and cook for them and their fat son. This little boy was a wizard but he didn't know that yet. His parents were killed by an evil man who called himself 'Lord Voldemort'..." Harry's story slowly progressed, Seamus was dozing away, but he continued. "But now Harry was depressed and he felt guilty, so he found a knife and cut his wrists."
Harry could remember everything so clearly. What he'd done, how he'd felt. He didn't even know why he was speaking, Seamus' eyes were closed, his breathing even. But he kept speaking, until he'd told him everything. And he felt better for it. Like he'd let everything off his chest. How he felt about Sirius, how he felt about being the Boy-Who-Lived, about his life, the Dursleys, Voldemort, cutting, suicide, everything...
The story from there was simple a few days later he'd cut too deep, and well, from there was stressful. To answer Sirius' question. Yes, he'd heard Seamus. He didn't know what to think. Harry knew Seamus wanted him to live. Sometimes Harry wanted himself to live as well.
(/)
After it was all said and done, which it never was, maybe Harry would understand why he shouldn't have cut in the first place. Maybe when the world understood why he did, he would understand why he shouldn't have. This was irony in it's purest form and it taunted him until he couldn't stand it.
But even Harry had to admit, if he was expected to kill Voldemort, he may as well do it before he died, and that required a reason to live. As much as he didn't want to. And although he didn't know it, he needed to talk to Malfoy for a reason that may not be understood at all, until he was ready to see what he was blinded to.
"Harry! Harry, not again!" The pounding on the door said it all. Harry scowled. How long had it been? He stared in wonder when a quick spell told him he'd been in there for half an hour. Sirius had given him a lot of leeway. Surprising. Shocking, really. And undeniably strange. But Harry gave it a little thought afterwards and realized that Sirius knew Harry would continue cutting and accepted it. Unexpected. Very unexpected. Un-Sirius, one might say. Harry took it at face value and cleaned away the blood on his arms with only a hint of regret, before opening the door.
"What?" May as well ignore it.
Sirius just sighed in answer. He hugged Harry, suddenly, his grip tight.
"What was that for?" Harry asked, curiously, after he was let go.
"I'm just glad you're still here." Sirius let out in a long gusting breath.
"Are you going to do that every time I go to the loo?"
It made him crack a smile. Harry smiled back.
(/)
Harry wandered down the hallways. He'd been away from classes for a while now. He was pretty sure most of the teachers knew why. Most of the students too, unfortunately. Gossip got around too fast. The student body was obviously not too enamored with 'Harry Potter' to believe him above the simple self-mutilation, as he'd overheard Pomfrey calling it. More like refuge. Harry snorted. They didn't understand.
Ron and Hermione had visited him once, this morning. Ron had talked a lot, but Hermione didn't have much to say, other than sending him a few tearful glances and a hug at the beginning. People seemed to hug him a lot lately.
It took him a dazed moment to realize he was wandering the dungeons, another fearful second to wonder where the hell he was. Harry rolled his eyes, he always ended up in situations like this. Slytherins and Snape haunted these parts of the castle, not the likes to ask for directions. Especially if you were Harry.
It wasn't until he'd stumbled across a small figure he realized exactly why he'd turned up down there. It wasn't until he saw something he was sure he shouldn't have, he knew why he needed to be there. Harry had stumbled across a huddled Draco Malfoy.
The body untangled itself so fast it was hard to tell who was more surprised, Malfoy or Harry?
"What the fuck are you doing down here?" Was the immediate response from the disheveled Slytherin.
Harry was too stunned to respond.
"Well?" The words were more calculating and cold than before.
"Do I need a reason, Malfoy, this is Hogwarts too, you know?" It was, Harry realized, the dungeons were part of the school, a part he'd never really associated with Hogwarts before, mainly because the Slytherins dominated it so fully it was hard to connect with the rest of the inhabitants.
"You're Harry fucking Potter, you don't belong down here!"
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, ignoring the other boy's comment.
"What do you mean, what am I doing? These are the dungeons!" The confused and infuriated response came.
"Yeah, but what are you doing?"
There was a short silence. "I-I don't know." The fury had drained and the confusion had taken hold.
Harry gestured to the corner Draco had been occupying just moments before. A flood of blood rushed to the boy's cheeks. "None of your business!"
He stared, a small smile on his face, Harry looked at the boy in disbelief, feeling more alive than he had in weeks.
"Well, Malfoy, considering you haven't insulted me or my friends yet, I'd say something pretty serious is wrong."
"Oh, and you think I'd talk to you about it?" The snarl of sarcasm was quiet but clear.
"I'm listening."
This only served to frustrate him more. "It's none of your fucking business!"
"I hear your father wants you to be a Death Eater." He suggested.
"How did you know that?" A quick and scared reply was the only indication Harry needed.
"He does?" He breathed, he'd only taken a shot at the possibility. "You're only fifteen."
"I'll have you know, my father was sixteen when he was Death Eater." The blonde haughtily responded.
"Oh stuff that, Malfoy, I've seen what they do, it's crap!" And it was.
"It is not!"
Harry was actually surprised he was giving away so much about his father, but then, anything Harry said could easily be discarded by however many hundred lawyers Lucius Malfoy owned.
"You don't really believe any of that crap, do you?"
He seemed to deflate. "Who says I don't?"
Harry smiled at him, reassurance ready in his gaze, but unsure in it's stance.
"Do you?"
"Potter, you're a bastard and I hate you."
"You know what? I hate you too, Malfoy, and I pity you." Harry didn't know if that last bit was meant to be a barb or not, it didn't really matter.
It was time to leave, he knew which way was back, he recognized this hallway, it was a few to the left of the Potions room. Harry had to wonder what Malfoy was doing in this particular hallway, then again, it was as good as any, he supposed.
Malfoy didn't shout anything after him, nor move from his place, standing in that corridor. And Harry didn't know it, but he didn't move for another hour.
(/)
He wondered, what made him pity Malfoy so much? It occurred to him that in a way, the boy's life was as pre-determined as his. He was going to spend the rest of his school years as a Death Eater, then go on to stand beside his father in Voldemort's inner circle, and finally replace him, unless, it was quite likely, he died before reaching such a place. Killed by a few aurors maybe, or Voldemort himself. He didn't seem to have any qualms about murdering his minions.
It was then he noticed that he'd thought he had to talk to the prat earlier. Of course, at the time he was confused as to why, but now he might understand. It was for people like Malfoy he had to keep moving for just a little bit more.
"Just that little bit more," He whispered to himself. "Just that little bit more."
---
End of Chapter 10
Okay. Hm. Strangeness. Hope you enjoyed though. Reviews? Love 'em. Someone said it would be strange to introduce Malfoy now, but not really, well, think what you will, but you'll see... I dunno what you'll see, but you'll see. Oh, and there's the Seamus-Harry drunk night thing. The Seamus-Sirius conversation that occurred a while ago will be in the next chapter. Plus a few more things I have yet to explain and a little of the new.
Thanks to: FroBoy, The SilverLady.
gopherisgood - Thanks! Great, I'll try for no Sirius slash, I don't think there'll be much romance in this fic at all. Thanks for the review!
Aiden Aterangelus - Here's some more assurance, but don't worry, it's not the only stuff coming. Intrigued? Hm. I don't know if I'm living up to everyone's expectations with this chappie, but I'd love some feedback from you! Thanks!
FawkesRises - blush Brilliant? Wonderful! Seamus and Malfoy, well, you'll see, I'm trying to further develop them (I think they're seriously underdeveloped in the books!). I get the drift. Thanks heaps!
lucidity - Thank you. :D. You made me feel a hundred times better. Again, thanks and hope to hear from you again!
angel74 - Everyone seems to be confused by Seamus. Why? I could say he appeared coincidentally (not saying he did) and would that satisfy anything? A big piece of the picture is actually missing (I could write a companion piece!). Oh and your Seamus-Harry discussion is in here. I'm sorry if Seamus' role isn't completely clear, but he's like one of those people who turn up when you need them ;). Nah, I'm not really sure (companion piece?). Draco enters for a reason that my twisted mind has made up. Hope it makes sense to you. Thanks!
RAiNbOwGrL22 - Anytime, my friend. Cool, I'll check it out sometime. Do you? Is he nice? Thank you. Hope you like my Draco ;).
Riffinton - Depressing, oh dear, this one will too though. I know exactly how you feel. I've always known I was extremely moody, but when I'm happy, I'm considered strange, people looked at me weirdly and asked if I was okay. There's my life. Thanks.
---
Chapter 10
Harry dragged the knife across his arm slowly, his eyes closing. Nothing could touch him. No one could touch him. Harry knew what he was doing. He always did. And nothing felt better. He was scarring himself. It didn't matter. He loved the feeling of total release and relaxation that flooded over him. He loved the feeling of utter control.
This was the one thing he had control over. Total control. He controlled where he cut, how deep, when, everything! Even when his life was spinning he still had this thread of control. And control was everything.
Vivid images in his mind. Vivid pictures. Blood. Death. Voldemort. Cedric. Ron. Dumbledore. Gryffindor. Sirius. His parents. White. Remus. Black.
His head tipped back slightly, his mouth open, he let out a sigh. He felt detached and loved it. No guilt as he thought of Cedric. No fear and loathing as he thought of Voldemort. No duty when he thought of Gryffindor. Nothing. Yes, he loved it. Harry laughed in a slightly hysterical way. If he couldn't yet have the release of death, he could take release in this.
When he cut there was an absence of mind. A recluse of thought. Like someone had taken pity on him and given him a second to just be. To be.
(/)
Harry knew Sirius was in the next room, and he was probably wondering why he was taking so long. Probably dreading finding out. Putting it off. Unconsciously, of course.
"'Ello Harry! How's the party?!"
"You're drunk, Seamus, come on." Harry hoisted Seamus off the wet grass. Of course, it didn't really matter that the grass was wet, as it was pouring down with rain.
"I'm not drunk, 'Arry! I'm fine here." He weighed a ton and he truly did seem to want to be back on the ground again. It took a minute of dragging Seamus back to the entrance for Harry to notice Seamus was crying. He sighed inwardly. His friend had been very down over Dean lately, this had to happen sometime.
"How'd you get the alcohol anyway?"
"Gred and Forge." The slurred reply came back. The twins. There was the obvious.
Harry grabbed a couple of towels from the shelf as he marched Seamus into the showers and shoved him under warm water. He dried himself before leading Seamus back out of the showers to get a new change of clothes.
"Harry?"
"Yeah, Seamus?" The shower hadn't sobered the boy up, but that was to be expected, who knows how much he'd had? Seamus would have a mean hangover tomorrow.
"Tell me a bedtime story." A bedtime story? What was he, a fairy godmother? Harry groaned.
"Once upon a time there was a kid who's parents were dead so he lived with his aunt and uncle, who were both evil and hated him." Seamus wouldn't remember this in the morning anyway, so what did it matter what he told him?
"They locked him in a cupboard, made him do all the chores and cook for them and their fat son. This little boy was a wizard but he didn't know that yet. His parents were killed by an evil man who called himself 'Lord Voldemort'..." Harry's story slowly progressed, Seamus was dozing away, but he continued. "But now Harry was depressed and he felt guilty, so he found a knife and cut his wrists."
Harry could remember everything so clearly. What he'd done, how he'd felt. He didn't even know why he was speaking, Seamus' eyes were closed, his breathing even. But he kept speaking, until he'd told him everything. And he felt better for it. Like he'd let everything off his chest. How he felt about Sirius, how he felt about being the Boy-Who-Lived, about his life, the Dursleys, Voldemort, cutting, suicide, everything...
The story from there was simple a few days later he'd cut too deep, and well, from there was stressful. To answer Sirius' question. Yes, he'd heard Seamus. He didn't know what to think. Harry knew Seamus wanted him to live. Sometimes Harry wanted himself to live as well.
(/)
After it was all said and done, which it never was, maybe Harry would understand why he shouldn't have cut in the first place. Maybe when the world understood why he did, he would understand why he shouldn't have. This was irony in it's purest form and it taunted him until he couldn't stand it.
But even Harry had to admit, if he was expected to kill Voldemort, he may as well do it before he died, and that required a reason to live. As much as he didn't want to. And although he didn't know it, he needed to talk to Malfoy for a reason that may not be understood at all, until he was ready to see what he was blinded to.
"Harry! Harry, not again!" The pounding on the door said it all. Harry scowled. How long had it been? He stared in wonder when a quick spell told him he'd been in there for half an hour. Sirius had given him a lot of leeway. Surprising. Shocking, really. And undeniably strange. But Harry gave it a little thought afterwards and realized that Sirius knew Harry would continue cutting and accepted it. Unexpected. Very unexpected. Un-Sirius, one might say. Harry took it at face value and cleaned away the blood on his arms with only a hint of regret, before opening the door.
"What?" May as well ignore it.
Sirius just sighed in answer. He hugged Harry, suddenly, his grip tight.
"What was that for?" Harry asked, curiously, after he was let go.
"I'm just glad you're still here." Sirius let out in a long gusting breath.
"Are you going to do that every time I go to the loo?"
It made him crack a smile. Harry smiled back.
(/)
Harry wandered down the hallways. He'd been away from classes for a while now. He was pretty sure most of the teachers knew why. Most of the students too, unfortunately. Gossip got around too fast. The student body was obviously not too enamored with 'Harry Potter' to believe him above the simple self-mutilation, as he'd overheard Pomfrey calling it. More like refuge. Harry snorted. They didn't understand.
Ron and Hermione had visited him once, this morning. Ron had talked a lot, but Hermione didn't have much to say, other than sending him a few tearful glances and a hug at the beginning. People seemed to hug him a lot lately.
It took him a dazed moment to realize he was wandering the dungeons, another fearful second to wonder where the hell he was. Harry rolled his eyes, he always ended up in situations like this. Slytherins and Snape haunted these parts of the castle, not the likes to ask for directions. Especially if you were Harry.
It wasn't until he'd stumbled across a small figure he realized exactly why he'd turned up down there. It wasn't until he saw something he was sure he shouldn't have, he knew why he needed to be there. Harry had stumbled across a huddled Draco Malfoy.
The body untangled itself so fast it was hard to tell who was more surprised, Malfoy or Harry?
"What the fuck are you doing down here?" Was the immediate response from the disheveled Slytherin.
Harry was too stunned to respond.
"Well?" The words were more calculating and cold than before.
"Do I need a reason, Malfoy, this is Hogwarts too, you know?" It was, Harry realized, the dungeons were part of the school, a part he'd never really associated with Hogwarts before, mainly because the Slytherins dominated it so fully it was hard to connect with the rest of the inhabitants.
"You're Harry fucking Potter, you don't belong down here!"
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, ignoring the other boy's comment.
"What do you mean, what am I doing? These are the dungeons!" The confused and infuriated response came.
"Yeah, but what are you doing?"
There was a short silence. "I-I don't know." The fury had drained and the confusion had taken hold.
Harry gestured to the corner Draco had been occupying just moments before. A flood of blood rushed to the boy's cheeks. "None of your business!"
He stared, a small smile on his face, Harry looked at the boy in disbelief, feeling more alive than he had in weeks.
"Well, Malfoy, considering you haven't insulted me or my friends yet, I'd say something pretty serious is wrong."
"Oh, and you think I'd talk to you about it?" The snarl of sarcasm was quiet but clear.
"I'm listening."
This only served to frustrate him more. "It's none of your fucking business!"
"I hear your father wants you to be a Death Eater." He suggested.
"How did you know that?" A quick and scared reply was the only indication Harry needed.
"He does?" He breathed, he'd only taken a shot at the possibility. "You're only fifteen."
"I'll have you know, my father was sixteen when he was Death Eater." The blonde haughtily responded.
"Oh stuff that, Malfoy, I've seen what they do, it's crap!" And it was.
"It is not!"
Harry was actually surprised he was giving away so much about his father, but then, anything Harry said could easily be discarded by however many hundred lawyers Lucius Malfoy owned.
"You don't really believe any of that crap, do you?"
He seemed to deflate. "Who says I don't?"
Harry smiled at him, reassurance ready in his gaze, but unsure in it's stance.
"Do you?"
"Potter, you're a bastard and I hate you."
"You know what? I hate you too, Malfoy, and I pity you." Harry didn't know if that last bit was meant to be a barb or not, it didn't really matter.
It was time to leave, he knew which way was back, he recognized this hallway, it was a few to the left of the Potions room. Harry had to wonder what Malfoy was doing in this particular hallway, then again, it was as good as any, he supposed.
Malfoy didn't shout anything after him, nor move from his place, standing in that corridor. And Harry didn't know it, but he didn't move for another hour.
(/)
He wondered, what made him pity Malfoy so much? It occurred to him that in a way, the boy's life was as pre-determined as his. He was going to spend the rest of his school years as a Death Eater, then go on to stand beside his father in Voldemort's inner circle, and finally replace him, unless, it was quite likely, he died before reaching such a place. Killed by a few aurors maybe, or Voldemort himself. He didn't seem to have any qualms about murdering his minions.
It was then he noticed that he'd thought he had to talk to the prat earlier. Of course, at the time he was confused as to why, but now he might understand. It was for people like Malfoy he had to keep moving for just a little bit more.
"Just that little bit more," He whispered to himself. "Just that little bit more."
---
End of Chapter 10
Okay. Hm. Strangeness. Hope you enjoyed though. Reviews? Love 'em. Someone said it would be strange to introduce Malfoy now, but not really, well, think what you will, but you'll see... I dunno what you'll see, but you'll see. Oh, and there's the Seamus-Harry drunk night thing. The Seamus-Sirius conversation that occurred a while ago will be in the next chapter. Plus a few more things I have yet to explain and a little of the new.