a/n: Thanks blackenedsoul, myrhfire, Maxx77, Bogan, Mihoshe, Englishgirl, DaOnlyWolfGurl, and Arizosa for reviewing to Chapter 7!

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Harry was sitting up in his bed in the hospital wing. Dumbledore pulled a chair up next to him behind the curtain surrounding them.

"Harry, I'd like to speak with you before you are released from the hospital wing."

Harry didn't respond.

"Harry, I believe I have an idea, but I need you to tell me why you tried to kill yourself."

Harry said nothing.

"You need to tell me, Harry. It is for your own good. You need to get everything out in the open, you need to heal."

Harry didn't look at him.

"I won't let you leave until you talk to me."

Harry glared at Dumbledore. He may have talked to him, had he not started seeing him less as a god and more of a man. He didn't have absolute faith in Dumbledore's always being right anymore, and that was an incredible hardship for Harry to bear, a crack in the underlying foundation of everything Harry knew and loved.

"Please talk to me, Harry."

Something in his voice melted Harry's defenses slightly. Harry sighed a sad sigh. He couldn't find words. He still wasn't sure he wanted to find them.

"I understand that it obviously must be hard for you to talk about," Dumbledore said gently.

Harry hesitated, then nodded.

"Yeah," he managed to say.

"But will you please try for me?"

"Do I have to?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" he asked hopefully.

Dumbledore nodded. Harry gave a pained expression and paused before continuing.

"I've been through this with Ron and Hermione already."

"You have? When?"

Harry sighed again.

"When we told Hermione I'd been..." Harry didn't need to finish.

"And why were you cutting yourself, Harry?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Harry could tell that Dumbledore already knew, that he just wanted to hear it from Harry, that he seemed to think it would help Harry somehow.

"I think you know, Professor," Harry said. Then, "It's a release for me. A way to cope with everything."

"But then you couldn't cope anymore?"

Harry didn't like what Dumbledore was doing. He thought, though, that going along with it a little would be the best way to get him out of the hospital wing.

"Yes," Harry said simply. That wasn't entirely true, that wasn't all of it, but Dumbledore needn't be concerned with that. Harry didn't feel like talking about it, either.

"Why not?"

Harry shrugged. He thought quickly for a way to leave this conversation.

"I'm feeling a lot better now. I guess this all has just... made me realize... what a bad idea it was." Harry's insides squirmed. That was the biggest lie he'd ever told.

Harry could tell that Dumbledore didn't quite believe him, but that he also knew he wasn't going to get anymore from Harry. Dumbledore sighed.

"Are you absolutely certain about this?" he asked, giving one more try.

"Yes," Harry lied. "Yes, I am."

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*Well, I almost was a Slytherin,* Harry couldn't help thinking as he finally left the hospital wing with Ron and Hermione. He did feel relieved about having making it out, despite the betrayal of Dumbledore's trust. However, Harry was suffocating under the sad, horrified, sidelong glances Ron and Hermione kept giving him.

"Will you stop looking at me like that?" he finally snapped, startling them.

"Sorry," they muttered.

Hermione looked up and down the corridor to make sure it was deserted, then stopped.

"Harry, please don't try again," she murmured. Harry closed his eyes wearily. He didn't want to lie to them, he didn't want to lie so much in one day. But they were leaving him no choice.

"I won't," he said quietly. "And don't look at me like that!" He turned his gaze away. "Come on, I'm tired, let's go."

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Harry wasn't tired. He lay awake deep into the night, listening to make sure everyone had fallen asleep. Ron had taken a very long time falling asleep, but now at last he was.

Harry stealthily got up and got the three things he would need: his Invisibility Cloak, his wand, and the Marauder's Map. His knife had, of course, been taken from him. Then he silently stepped out onto the top of the stairwell.

"I solumnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry whispered, tapping the map with his wand. Lines spread out over it and Harry examined it.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. *Doesn't he ever sleep?* he thought, seeing a small dot labeled "Albus Dumbledore" near the entrance of Gryffindor Tower. Invisible, no doubt, and standing guard in case Harry tried to leave during the night.

Harry threw the cloak over himself and silently went down the stairs. Reaching the portrait hole, he looked at the map again, held his wand ready, and swallowed.

Harry slowly opened the portrait hole. As he started walking out he felt someone holding him back. Next moment, Dumbledore had appeared and Harry's cloak had been pulled off of him. They both were suddenly no longer invisible.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, surveying the desperate young man with glittering eyes that stood before him, breathing fast.

Harry shook his head slightly.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he said. "I'm sorry, but you can't stop me. I'm sorry. Stupify!"

Harry took back his Invisibility Cloak and threw it back over himself, breathing even faster than before.

"Oh God, oh God," he muttered to himself. "I'm so sorry, Professor, oh God, oh God." He squinted his eyes shut, then opened them again and continued on, trying to forget what he had just done.

Harry descended into the dungeons, calming down, following the plan he had made in his head.

He reached a hallway, and started looking for a proper place to go. He knew there must be someplace suitable, a room or a closet never used with something to hang a rope down from.

Finally, he found one. A small old classroom, caked with dust. He stepped inside, took off the cloak, and locked the door behind him.

He looked at the map one last time. There was no one anywhere near him.

Harry, the most of his mission completed, now let the tears that had been threatening to escape fall. This was his only option, the only choice he could make now. It would be good, for everyone. Harry would no longer suffer, his friends wouldn't be in such danger, they wouldn't have to think think about him anymore. The whole nightmare would be over.

Harry scraped a chair along the floor, pulling it under a large pipe in the ceiling, leaving tracks in the dust covering the floor.

Harry conjured a length of rope. It was so easy, really. Shaking with sorrow, Harry fashioned a noose. Harry dragged a desk over, and piled books he found lying around the classroom on top of it. He climbed onto them. He reached up and tied the rope to the pipe. He tied it three times, securely, just to be sure it would stay.

Harry climbed down and tugged on the rope one last time, just to be absolutely certain it was tied securely. He pushed the desk away.

Harry stood on the chair.

Tears streaming freely down his face, Harry put his head through the loop.

He kicked away the chair.