Chapter 11
Meanwhile, Harry had been lying in the same position in the same bed, since Snape had left him the previous afternoon.
As soon as Snape had left, Harry had fallen into a semi-unconscious sleep in which he stayed until about the time that Snape swept out of the Great Hall with Lupin jogging to catch up to him. He was having the same dream that he had been having all year when he awoke suddenly.
He stared around the room in bewilderment then the memories had rushed back so fast that he retched.
He sat up hoping against hope that he still had his blade in his pocket. They hadn't changed him from his robes.
He groaned in frustration as he realised his search was futile and cast his mind back, trying to remember what he had done with it.
*Flashback*
The door slams shut and Harry is running, he doesn't know where, but he has to get away. Tears are flowing freely down his face. He prays that he won't meet anyone, and God must have been watching over him that day.
He fumbles in his pocket as he runs, trying to find his blade. He curses himself for being so stupid. How could he have been so careless as to let so many people find out?
He finds the blade, but drops it in his haste. He realised that he won't be able to cut, whilst he is running.
He looks around to get his bearings and realises that he is outside the room that he recently discovered is holing the mirror of Erised.
He pushes open the door, thinking that when he sees his parents faces, he will calm down.
As he collapses in front of the mirror and looks into their faces he is struck by Malfoy's last comment. He did drive Petunia to her death. And here was Petunias sister, not knowing anything about it. Just standing in a mirror and smiling and waving at the hopeless fool of a boy who caused her death, her husbands death and her sisters death.
Harry realises what he has to do. He reaches into his pocket and finds a scrap of parchment and a quill. There is an old bottle of ink in the corner that will serve his purpose.
He scribbles a quick note.
He stands up and as he stands he lets all the emotion that he still hasn't allowed himself to feel, surface.
He stumbles backwards as all the guilt, self hatred, misery and anger bubbles around and is released, leaving him gasping for air.
He vaguely wonders how he has kept all this suppressed, but it doesn't matter anymore.
He is glad that he had sharpened his blade last night.
He gazes into the mirror at his parents. 'I'm sorry I am a failure, I won't be anymore.'
He knows exactly where to cut without looking. The cuts are deeper and the pain is more welcome than it has ever been and the warm liquid running down his arms is soothing. He drops the blade to the floor.
He stands for a minute or two longer before dizziness overcomes him and his vision blurs. A smile plays around his lips and he sighs contentedly. At last he is doing something right.
Just as the blackness has nearly completely impeded his vision, he hears footsteps and mumbles. 'Dammit.'
Oh well, it's too late, they can't do anything.
The door opens just as Harry glides into the darkness.
'Fucking Merlin, oh shit, Har.'
*End Flashback*
Harry hit the mattress in frustration. He looked around the room and his eyes fell on some sewing that Madam Pomfrey had left on the low cupboard in the corner when she had gone to the meeting in the Great Hall.
He remembered that Petunia used to sew and had always kept her fabric scissors very sharp because they wouldn't cut properly otherwise. Even Vernon and Dudley wouldn't dare to touch them.
His eyes lit up but then he sighed. No person, let alone the careful Madam Pomfrey, would be stupid enough to leave any sharp object in a room with a suicidal person.
Or would they?
Harry craned his head and could see, to his amazement, that she had indeed done that very thing. He automatically reached for his wand before realising that it wasn't there.
Well if it was then he could just cast Avada Kadavra on himself and he wouldn't need the scissors. Why hadn't he thought of that when he was trying to kill himself?
He laughed wildly and slowly began to pull himself up out of the bed. He fell out onto the floor and crawled over to the cupboard.
He vaguely wondered why he was so weak, before it hit him that three weeks of death might have had something to do with it.
It took all of Harry's strength to reach up and knock the scissors to the floor.
He picked them up and tried to cut through his wrist. He was to weak to cut deep enough to kill himself nut he tried over and over again.
Suddenly he heard voices in the hall and froze as the voice of Severus Snape got louder and louder.
'That's what I am trying to tell you Lupin, I don't want to do this. I am the last person who will make Har, er Potter feel better about himself. You should hear the things that I have said to him in class. They were worse than anything I said to you and your filthy friends . I have basically told him that his and his parents lives were worthless, and that they were better off dead. The things I said about his father, I shudder to remember. I always thought he was a spoilt little brat at home so I thought I would bring him down a few pegs. Oh Merlin I was a bastard to him.'
The voices had stopped outside the door and Harry began furiously hacking at his wrists before making a valiant attempt to get back to his bed.
'Well Severus, this is your chance to make it better.'
'Well I'll try, but don't expect anything to come from it. I will probably cause him to try it again.'
Snape's bitter voice startled Harry, but he didn't have time to consider the in depth implications of this wondrous occurrence as the door handle started turn and Harry collapsed into a dead faint.
'Um, Severus? He already has.'
'Shit! What was Poppy thinking, leaving these lying about?'
'I dunno, but this is getting very tedious.'
'What is?'
'Well this is the second time in a month that I have walked into a room to find Harry unconscious and bleeding on the ground.'
He gave a high, brittle laugh that sounded like he was bordering on hysteria.
'I'll tell you now, it is extremely tiring on ones nerves.'
He placed Harry on the bed and turned to punch the wall.
Snape, who was conjuring up bandages, his face even paler that usual, jumped and turned to yell at Lupin, but stopped when, to his horror, he saw tears running unchecked down Lupins face.
'Pull, your self together, man!' it was a poor attempt at his usually menacing growl, but he had found a lump in his throat as he looked at the thin, pale boy.
It was at this moment that Dumbledore entered with Sirius, who taking one look at Remus's face sprung over to the bed, his face bloodless.
'Tell me he hasn't tried it again.' His voice was nothing but a pleading whisper.
Snape looked away and Remus's tears started flowing faster as Sirius fell to his knees by the bed.
He looked at the, already blood stained, new bandages around Harry's arms and put his head down on the bed, his shoulders shaking with heart wrenching sobs. The only word discernable from between sobs was 'Why?'
'Why indeed?' muttered Dumbledore to himself as he put his wand to Harry's head and said 'enervate.'
Harry sat up groaning and glared at Dumbledore 'Tell me you haven't brought me back again. I'm getting tired of this. Can't you let me bloody well stay dead, even for once? I say.' he stared at Remus and then looked down at Sirius in consternation. 'What's the matter with them?'
'Well, Mr Potter, what could be the matter with them?' Snape's voice was deadlier than usual and Harry shrank back. 'I'll give you a hint. Remus Lupin has just, for the second time in a month, walked in on the son of his late best friend lying unconscious on the floor with blood pouring from his wrists. Mr Black, here, thought that he had once again lost one of his few and far between reasons for staying sane in Azkaban and staying alive out of that hellhole they call a prison.'
Harry stared up at him, his face unreadable, before a small smile crossed his face. 'Pull, the other one, Snape. No one in their right mind would break down like that just because of me, cry with relief maybe, but not with the devastating sadness that these two are. Now tell me truthfully, what's going on? Has some one died?'
Sirius's sobs, if possible, became more distraught than ever as he realised that his godson was incapable of understanding that people might actually care for him.
Snape and Dumbledore just stared at him as Remus bent down and put his arm around Sirius's shoulders.
Harry's smile flickered as he stared at the unwavering stares of his Headmaster and Potions teacher before glancing at the grief stricken pair, kneeling before him.
He glanced back at Snape, pleading him with his eyes too renounce the claims that he had just made. Snape just looked at him pityingly as the truth began penetrate deep within his soul.
'No,' he whispered. 'What have I done?'
Snape crossed the room in a trice as Harry began to heave, and vomit blood and bile all over floor down the side of his bed.
Snape pulled Remus and Sirius away, as he sat on the bed, rubbing Harry's back, soothing him.
Harry finished and sat up, his eyes red, his skin green and sweaty.
He looked at the two grown men, standing in the corner, faces blotchy, eyes bloodshot. He fell, shaking and trembling, against Snape, as another wave of nausea overcame him.
When he recovered and lay shivering against his Potions master he closed his eyes.
He felt Snape's voice rumbling through his chest as he looked at Dumbledore. 'Leave us.'
Sirius started a feeble, hiccoughing protest but stopped, when Harry opened a bleary eye and looked at him. 'Please Sirius, leave. I'm Sorry.'
Lupin took his best friends arm and guided him out of the room. Dumbledore paused to glance at Snape before he too left, closing the door behind him.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
'You really didn't believe that anyone cared about you.' Snape's voice was dumbfounded.
'No, why would I? No one has any reason to. I'm a filthy rotten murderer. I'm still not sure that I believe you.'
Snape stared at him aghast. 'What if I offered you proof?'
'Yeah right, like what?'
'I'll take you inside my memories of the last three weeks.'
'You wouldn't do that. Not for anyone, and definitely not for me.'
'If it is the only way to show you that people care about you, then yes I would.'
Harry paused, thinking. 'Ok, but I will be proven right.'
'If you want to think that then you are welcome to. But you will be proven wrong. I promise.'
He paused, took his wand out and pointed it at Harry, placing Harry's hands on his head.
'Revealous Previoso Memorous.'
Meanwhile, Harry had been lying in the same position in the same bed, since Snape had left him the previous afternoon.
As soon as Snape had left, Harry had fallen into a semi-unconscious sleep in which he stayed until about the time that Snape swept out of the Great Hall with Lupin jogging to catch up to him. He was having the same dream that he had been having all year when he awoke suddenly.
He stared around the room in bewilderment then the memories had rushed back so fast that he retched.
He sat up hoping against hope that he still had his blade in his pocket. They hadn't changed him from his robes.
He groaned in frustration as he realised his search was futile and cast his mind back, trying to remember what he had done with it.
*Flashback*
The door slams shut and Harry is running, he doesn't know where, but he has to get away. Tears are flowing freely down his face. He prays that he won't meet anyone, and God must have been watching over him that day.
He fumbles in his pocket as he runs, trying to find his blade. He curses himself for being so stupid. How could he have been so careless as to let so many people find out?
He finds the blade, but drops it in his haste. He realised that he won't be able to cut, whilst he is running.
He looks around to get his bearings and realises that he is outside the room that he recently discovered is holing the mirror of Erised.
He pushes open the door, thinking that when he sees his parents faces, he will calm down.
As he collapses in front of the mirror and looks into their faces he is struck by Malfoy's last comment. He did drive Petunia to her death. And here was Petunias sister, not knowing anything about it. Just standing in a mirror and smiling and waving at the hopeless fool of a boy who caused her death, her husbands death and her sisters death.
Harry realises what he has to do. He reaches into his pocket and finds a scrap of parchment and a quill. There is an old bottle of ink in the corner that will serve his purpose.
He scribbles a quick note.
He stands up and as he stands he lets all the emotion that he still hasn't allowed himself to feel, surface.
He stumbles backwards as all the guilt, self hatred, misery and anger bubbles around and is released, leaving him gasping for air.
He vaguely wonders how he has kept all this suppressed, but it doesn't matter anymore.
He is glad that he had sharpened his blade last night.
He gazes into the mirror at his parents. 'I'm sorry I am a failure, I won't be anymore.'
He knows exactly where to cut without looking. The cuts are deeper and the pain is more welcome than it has ever been and the warm liquid running down his arms is soothing. He drops the blade to the floor.
He stands for a minute or two longer before dizziness overcomes him and his vision blurs. A smile plays around his lips and he sighs contentedly. At last he is doing something right.
Just as the blackness has nearly completely impeded his vision, he hears footsteps and mumbles. 'Dammit.'
Oh well, it's too late, they can't do anything.
The door opens just as Harry glides into the darkness.
'Fucking Merlin, oh shit, Har.'
*End Flashback*
Harry hit the mattress in frustration. He looked around the room and his eyes fell on some sewing that Madam Pomfrey had left on the low cupboard in the corner when she had gone to the meeting in the Great Hall.
He remembered that Petunia used to sew and had always kept her fabric scissors very sharp because they wouldn't cut properly otherwise. Even Vernon and Dudley wouldn't dare to touch them.
His eyes lit up but then he sighed. No person, let alone the careful Madam Pomfrey, would be stupid enough to leave any sharp object in a room with a suicidal person.
Or would they?
Harry craned his head and could see, to his amazement, that she had indeed done that very thing. He automatically reached for his wand before realising that it wasn't there.
Well if it was then he could just cast Avada Kadavra on himself and he wouldn't need the scissors. Why hadn't he thought of that when he was trying to kill himself?
He laughed wildly and slowly began to pull himself up out of the bed. He fell out onto the floor and crawled over to the cupboard.
He vaguely wondered why he was so weak, before it hit him that three weeks of death might have had something to do with it.
It took all of Harry's strength to reach up and knock the scissors to the floor.
He picked them up and tried to cut through his wrist. He was to weak to cut deep enough to kill himself nut he tried over and over again.
Suddenly he heard voices in the hall and froze as the voice of Severus Snape got louder and louder.
'That's what I am trying to tell you Lupin, I don't want to do this. I am the last person who will make Har, er Potter feel better about himself. You should hear the things that I have said to him in class. They were worse than anything I said to you and your filthy friends . I have basically told him that his and his parents lives were worthless, and that they were better off dead. The things I said about his father, I shudder to remember. I always thought he was a spoilt little brat at home so I thought I would bring him down a few pegs. Oh Merlin I was a bastard to him.'
The voices had stopped outside the door and Harry began furiously hacking at his wrists before making a valiant attempt to get back to his bed.
'Well Severus, this is your chance to make it better.'
'Well I'll try, but don't expect anything to come from it. I will probably cause him to try it again.'
Snape's bitter voice startled Harry, but he didn't have time to consider the in depth implications of this wondrous occurrence as the door handle started turn and Harry collapsed into a dead faint.
'Um, Severus? He already has.'
'Shit! What was Poppy thinking, leaving these lying about?'
'I dunno, but this is getting very tedious.'
'What is?'
'Well this is the second time in a month that I have walked into a room to find Harry unconscious and bleeding on the ground.'
He gave a high, brittle laugh that sounded like he was bordering on hysteria.
'I'll tell you now, it is extremely tiring on ones nerves.'
He placed Harry on the bed and turned to punch the wall.
Snape, who was conjuring up bandages, his face even paler that usual, jumped and turned to yell at Lupin, but stopped when, to his horror, he saw tears running unchecked down Lupins face.
'Pull, your self together, man!' it was a poor attempt at his usually menacing growl, but he had found a lump in his throat as he looked at the thin, pale boy.
It was at this moment that Dumbledore entered with Sirius, who taking one look at Remus's face sprung over to the bed, his face bloodless.
'Tell me he hasn't tried it again.' His voice was nothing but a pleading whisper.
Snape looked away and Remus's tears started flowing faster as Sirius fell to his knees by the bed.
He looked at the, already blood stained, new bandages around Harry's arms and put his head down on the bed, his shoulders shaking with heart wrenching sobs. The only word discernable from between sobs was 'Why?'
'Why indeed?' muttered Dumbledore to himself as he put his wand to Harry's head and said 'enervate.'
Harry sat up groaning and glared at Dumbledore 'Tell me you haven't brought me back again. I'm getting tired of this. Can't you let me bloody well stay dead, even for once? I say.' he stared at Remus and then looked down at Sirius in consternation. 'What's the matter with them?'
'Well, Mr Potter, what could be the matter with them?' Snape's voice was deadlier than usual and Harry shrank back. 'I'll give you a hint. Remus Lupin has just, for the second time in a month, walked in on the son of his late best friend lying unconscious on the floor with blood pouring from his wrists. Mr Black, here, thought that he had once again lost one of his few and far between reasons for staying sane in Azkaban and staying alive out of that hellhole they call a prison.'
Harry stared up at him, his face unreadable, before a small smile crossed his face. 'Pull, the other one, Snape. No one in their right mind would break down like that just because of me, cry with relief maybe, but not with the devastating sadness that these two are. Now tell me truthfully, what's going on? Has some one died?'
Sirius's sobs, if possible, became more distraught than ever as he realised that his godson was incapable of understanding that people might actually care for him.
Snape and Dumbledore just stared at him as Remus bent down and put his arm around Sirius's shoulders.
Harry's smile flickered as he stared at the unwavering stares of his Headmaster and Potions teacher before glancing at the grief stricken pair, kneeling before him.
He glanced back at Snape, pleading him with his eyes too renounce the claims that he had just made. Snape just looked at him pityingly as the truth began penetrate deep within his soul.
'No,' he whispered. 'What have I done?'
Snape crossed the room in a trice as Harry began to heave, and vomit blood and bile all over floor down the side of his bed.
Snape pulled Remus and Sirius away, as he sat on the bed, rubbing Harry's back, soothing him.
Harry finished and sat up, his eyes red, his skin green and sweaty.
He looked at the two grown men, standing in the corner, faces blotchy, eyes bloodshot. He fell, shaking and trembling, against Snape, as another wave of nausea overcame him.
When he recovered and lay shivering against his Potions master he closed his eyes.
He felt Snape's voice rumbling through his chest as he looked at Dumbledore. 'Leave us.'
Sirius started a feeble, hiccoughing protest but stopped, when Harry opened a bleary eye and looked at him. 'Please Sirius, leave. I'm Sorry.'
Lupin took his best friends arm and guided him out of the room. Dumbledore paused to glance at Snape before he too left, closing the door behind him.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
'You really didn't believe that anyone cared about you.' Snape's voice was dumbfounded.
'No, why would I? No one has any reason to. I'm a filthy rotten murderer. I'm still not sure that I believe you.'
Snape stared at him aghast. 'What if I offered you proof?'
'Yeah right, like what?'
'I'll take you inside my memories of the last three weeks.'
'You wouldn't do that. Not for anyone, and definitely not for me.'
'If it is the only way to show you that people care about you, then yes I would.'
Harry paused, thinking. 'Ok, but I will be proven right.'
'If you want to think that then you are welcome to. But you will be proven wrong. I promise.'
He paused, took his wand out and pointed it at Harry, placing Harry's hands on his head.
'Revealous Previoso Memorous.'