A/N: Don't flame me, please, it burns! *hides under fire blanket* Thanks in advance and thanks Shadowsofpain, Amrunofthesummercountry, Maxx77, Arizosa, Esperanza, whitemudfounder, soleil-luna-day, hannirose, kateydidnt, Crystal, and Annalise(coolchick207) for reviewing to the previous chapter!
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Ron had been having trouble sleeping all night and was therefore easily awoken when Harry woke with a muffled yell. Ron half sat up, leaning on his elbow, and looked concernedly in Harry's direction. After what seemed like years, Ron saw the dark outline of Harry stumbling in the direction of the bathroom, his hand on his forehead. Ron knew Harry was going to cut.
Harry closed the door behind him and slumped against it, sighing deeply. These nights were all so hard. Harry closed his eyes, his only meager attempt to hold back the stinging wetness that was trying to escape. The more time went on, the more the weight of everything seemed to be collapsing on him. And now, with the added weight of Ron and Hermione's knowing, them being hurt by it.... It was all just far too much. He had never wanted to hurt them. It hurt Harry deeply and forcefully knowing that he had caused Ron and Hermione any amount of pain.
Harry slowly got up off the floor and locked the door. He stood by the sink and pulled up his sleeve, then opened the knife. He had never cut two days in a row before, but now there just really wasn't anything holding him back. A moment later there was a sharp stinging pain in his arm. He allowed his thoughts to fade for a few moments as he focused on the pain, then watch the blood gently flow from him. After several minutes it stopped, and soon after Harry's despair began returning to him.
He had never intended to hurt Ron or Hermione in any way at all. The truth was that Harry knew they would tell eventually, it wasn't in their nature not to. And he also knew that the knowledge was causing them a painful inner struggle. How could he have been so careless? It would be good for them, really, besides the obvious aspect of their safety and the safety of others, if he were just completely out of the picture. So that would make it right, as well as just easy.... right?
It was good enough for Harry at the moment. He yanked up his other sleeve and brought the knife to his left hand. He brought the knife to the underside of his wrist, directly over the vein, and cut deeply.
Deep, intense pain shot through him as he started to bleed profusely and he switched hands with the knife. Blinking to try to see more clearly through his tears, he found the vein further up in his arm and brought the knife straight down into it. His knees gave way from the loss of blood, and he was in a sitting position. He finally made a wide, deep cut through the vein he had up until now always avoided, the vein in his left wrist. All would be right now - all in contact with him would be safe, he wouldn't be causing more pain to Ron and Hermione, he wouldn't have to live with nightmares and visions and that constant underlying fear.... He could have peace. He fell back in a warm pool of his own blood, and everything faded away.
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Ron had been having trouble sleeping all night and was therefore easily awoken when Harry woke with a muffled yell. Ron half sat up, leaning on his elbow, and looked concernedly in Harry's direction. After what seemed like years, Ron saw the dark outline of Harry stumbling in the direction of the bathroom, his hand on his forehead. Ron knew Harry was going to cut.
Harry closed the door behind him and slumped against it, sighing deeply. These nights were all so hard. Harry closed his eyes, his only meager attempt to hold back the stinging wetness that was trying to escape. The more time went on, the more the weight of everything seemed to be collapsing on him. And now, with the added weight of Ron and Hermione's knowing, them being hurt by it.... It was all just far too much. He had never wanted to hurt them. It hurt Harry deeply and forcefully knowing that he had caused Ron and Hermione any amount of pain.
Harry slowly got up off the floor and locked the door. He stood by the sink and pulled up his sleeve, then opened the knife. He had never cut two days in a row before, but now there just really wasn't anything holding him back. A moment later there was a sharp stinging pain in his arm. He allowed his thoughts to fade for a few moments as he focused on the pain, then watch the blood gently flow from him. After several minutes it stopped, and soon after Harry's despair began returning to him.
He had never intended to hurt Ron or Hermione in any way at all. The truth was that Harry knew they would tell eventually, it wasn't in their nature not to. And he also knew that the knowledge was causing them a painful inner struggle. How could he have been so careless? It would be good for them, really, besides the obvious aspect of their safety and the safety of others, if he were just completely out of the picture. So that would make it right, as well as just easy.... right?
It was good enough for Harry at the moment. He yanked up his other sleeve and brought the knife to his left hand. He brought the knife to the underside of his wrist, directly over the vein, and cut deeply.
Deep, intense pain shot through him as he started to bleed profusely and he switched hands with the knife. Blinking to try to see more clearly through his tears, he found the vein further up in his arm and brought the knife straight down into it. His knees gave way from the loss of blood, and he was in a sitting position. He finally made a wide, deep cut through the vein he had up until now always avoided, the vein in his left wrist. All would be right now - all in contact with him would be safe, he wouldn't be causing more pain to Ron and Hermione, he wouldn't have to live with nightmares and visions and that constant underlying fear.... He could have peace. He fell back in a warm pool of his own blood, and everything faded away.
