The bright green eyes of the teenager with the bruises around his neck opened.
Harry looked around, his mind blank, trying to figure out where he was and what he was doing there.
He was in the hospital wing. But why--? Oh. With disbelief, Harry remembered. How on Earth could he have survived that?
Harry started to sit up, the sound of his movement summoning Madam Pomfrey.
"You're awake!" she exclaimed. "Lie down, dear, lie down."
Harry lay, staring at the ceiling, completely confused as to what had happened. Had it been a dream? It couldn't have been. Could it? How was he found? How did he survive? The questions swirled through his mind, putting Harry in something of a daze.
"Harry?"
He was startled back to Earth. Hermione. And Ron. The sight of them gave Harry a sinking feeling in his stomach. When had they come? He looked away and jumped. Dumbledore was on his other side.
"It's all right, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. Harry swallowed and looked at the ceiling, refusing to look at them. He just couldn't take seeing them right now.
"We're very lucky we found you when we did," Dumbledore said quietly.
Harry made an expression of disbelief. Lucky?
"How'd I live?" he asked in a hoarse whisper, looking at Dumbledore, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Well, the way hanging is supposed to work is the neck is supposed to be broken instantly, then the person being hung loses conciousness and dies within twenty minutes. But if the person is very light -- such as yourself -- then the neck will not be broken and the person will instead be strangled to death." Dumbledore explained solumnly.
"And how'd you find me?" asked Harry quietly.
"Mr. Filch found me shortly after I was stunned--" Harry didn't see the shocked looks on Ron's and Hermione's faces "--and Professor McGonagall woke me up. I told them we had to find you and got many of the other teachers and ghosts to join the search. You were already unconcious when you were found, but you will recover. It was a very close call indeed."
Close call. Harry's whole life seemed to have been a series of close calls.
"Flying fuck," said Harry, picking up one of Ron's more creative vulgarities. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly. This was quite a change from the Harry who would apologize to Dumbledore for calling Rita Skeeter a cow in his presence. Then again, Harry then would not have attempted suicide, either.
"What?" Ron asked, wondering what exactly Harry was thinking. Harry looked over at Ron. He had forgotten they were there.
"Well," Harry said. "It's just... my whole life seems like a series of 'close calls.' It's like I'll never die."
They were all silent for a few moments. They didn't need to think very hard at all to realize how right Harry was.
"Maybe you won't," Ron said, finally, making everyone stare at him. "I mean... maybe it's like... destiny or something. Maybe there's something you need to do yet, so you can't die."
"But what if I don't *want* that destiny?"
"I don't think there's anything you can do about that," Ron replied.
Harry didn't want to believe it. But he couldn't help believing it, at least somewhat. What else could explain why he hadn't died by now? Off the top of his head the total of near misses reached the twenties. Could all of that have been a coincidence? Harry felt he would go mad if he had another failed suicide attempt. But he so desperately wanted to try....
***********************************
The next day Harry was released from the hospital wing. He walked slowly and silently with Ron and Hermione on the way back to the Gryffindor common room.
Harry stopped. It took a moment for Ron and Hermione to notice, they were each so wrapped up in their own sad thoughts. The looked back wearily at Harry, who was looking hungrily out of a window. Ron walked behind him and looked out of it, too. Harry was looking at the lake.
Ron tugged on Harry's sleeve gently.
"Come on, Harry," he said quietly, and they continued on. Ron tried desperately to think of something to tell Harry to prevent an attempt involving the lake.
"Don't do it, Harry," Ron said. He and Harry both knew what Ron was talking about. "It probably wouldn't even work. The Giant Squid would probably chuck you out or something. Like Dennis Creevy. Or the merpeople."
Harry had forgotten entirely about the Giant Squid bringing Dennis Creevy out of the water when he fell in. Ron was probably right, it probably wouldn't even work. Nothing would work, what with his "destiny" and all. It made Harry extremely angry. He wasn't ready to give up just yet.
************************************
Almost immediately after Ron and Harry entered the dormitory, a large black dog greeted them.
"Snuffles?" Harry asked, looking around the room to make sure they were alone. "What are you doing here?"
Instantly the dog was gone and Sirius Black stood in his place. He looked particularly solemn.
"I'm here to see my godson, of course," he said. Harry could tell it was not going to be a cheerful visit.
"Oh," he said, as though being reprimanded.
"Dumbledore's told me what you've done."
"Did he send you?"
"No. He doesn't know I'm here. And it's going to stay that way. But enough about me. Let's talk about you. Ron, please excuse us." Ron slipped out of the room. He sat down in front of the room, guarding the door.
Harry looked at Sirius wearily. Sirius stared steadily back. Finally Sirius spoke.
"You've tried to kill yourself twice in the last week," Sirius said. His voice was more sad than angry, and that is what touched Harry the most.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, trying to fight back tears.
"Are you more sorry about what you did or that you failed?" Sirius asked.
"I don't know," Harry said. Then, "That I failed. And that you're mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you," Sirius said, concern on his face.
"I tried to kill myself!" Harry yelled. "Why wouldn't you be mad at me? Why wouldn't that make you mad?"
"Harry, I care about you. You're my godson."
"Aren't you even just a little bit mad?"
"Well..." said Sirius. "Disappointed. But more concerned. Harry, don't try again, I'm here for you, everything will be all right."
"It won't be all right!" Harry cried, staring at Sirius. Disappointed. Sirius was disappointed in him.
"Harry, it will. Good will win in the end," Sirius said. "It has to." Harry picked up on the desperation in Sirius's voice.
"How can you be sure?"
"It... has to, Harry, it just *has* to. Isn't good always supposed to conquer evil?" Now Sirius was sounding choked up.
"I just don't see how it can."
"There has to be something! How'd you escape when he came back? Because there's always something!"
"There's always something with *me*, *I* never die, but Voldemort came back! It's only with me that there's 'always something.' Why can't I die?"
"Harry, what are you talking about?"
Harry looked lost for words for a few moments.
"Ron said something. In the hospital wing. About destiny. Dumbledore said it was a close call, and I said my whole life's been close calls, that it's like I'll never die. And Ron said maybe I can't die because it's my destiny and there's something I need to do yet."
Sirius could tell that at least a part of Harry believed this theory, but that he desperately wished it weren't true. He wasn't getting better.
Now it was Sirius's turn to be lost for words. Finally Harry spoke.
"Why don't you want Dumbledore to know you're here?"
"I'm supposed to be at Remus's. It's safer for me there. And don't change the subject."
"Sirius, don't put yourself in danger just to see me!"
"Put myself in danger? Harry, you're the one who's been putting himself in danger. Trying to... hang yourself and... slitting your wrists." Sirius found it hard to say it. "Did you use the knife I gave you?"
Harry didn't answer.
"Dammit, Harry!"
"Well I don't have it anymore," Harry mumbled.
"Well I should think not. Listen, Harry, I know you're having a hard time right now, but think of what it's doing to those who care about you to see you fall apart like this!"
"I know! If I were gone they wouldn't have to see that. And my *existence* is hurting them. It's hurting anyone around me. They're targets. Look what happened to Cedric."
"Harry... it's not your fault."
"He wouldn't have died if I weren't there."
"You don't know that."
"If I had just taken the Cup like he wanted me to and not had that stupid idea to take it together and tie for it--"
Sirius put his hands on Harry's shoulders.
"Harry, no! You couldn't have known! No one can know what's going to happen."
"But I thought you knew good was going to win in the end."
Sirius fell silent.
Harry turned and left.
***********************************
Harry was sitting in a chair in the common room, staring out the window, thinking about everything, particularly his conversation with Sirius. Sirius was disappointed in him. Harry never even thought about Sirius. He was Harry's only family, and Harry had completely neglected him. And Harry was hurting him, because Sirius had to see Harry like this. *"Think of what it's doing to those who care about you to see you fall apart like this!"* Sirius cared about him. But maybe that wasn't enough.
"Harry."
Harry jumped, and looked up to see Ron.
"Snuffles wants to see you," he bent down and whispered.
"He's still here?" Harry asked quietly. Ron nodded. Harry sighed, and followed Ron up to the dormitory.
"Thank you, Ron," Sirius said, with finality in his tone asking Ron to leave.
"You're still here," Harry said after Ron left them alone.
"I am. I'm not giving up on you, Harry. I'm staying."
"What will happen when Dumbledore finds out you're here?"
"He doesn't need to find out."
"But he will."
"You don't want me here?" Sirius asked.
Harry was silent. Sirius's presence confused his thoughts and feelings. It was almost... comforting having Sirius there. Which Harry could see was, of course, Sirius's intention. And Harry's will was starting to give in.
"You could probably get Dumbledore to let you stay," Harry mumbled. In that moment everything changed. They both knew then, somehow, that eventually Harry would get better. He may have been at the lowest of lows, but even his will to die was failing him, and Harry wanted Sirius to stay.
They both started to cry.
THE END
Harry looked around, his mind blank, trying to figure out where he was and what he was doing there.
He was in the hospital wing. But why--? Oh. With disbelief, Harry remembered. How on Earth could he have survived that?
Harry started to sit up, the sound of his movement summoning Madam Pomfrey.
"You're awake!" she exclaimed. "Lie down, dear, lie down."
Harry lay, staring at the ceiling, completely confused as to what had happened. Had it been a dream? It couldn't have been. Could it? How was he found? How did he survive? The questions swirled through his mind, putting Harry in something of a daze.
"Harry?"
He was startled back to Earth. Hermione. And Ron. The sight of them gave Harry a sinking feeling in his stomach. When had they come? He looked away and jumped. Dumbledore was on his other side.
"It's all right, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. Harry swallowed and looked at the ceiling, refusing to look at them. He just couldn't take seeing them right now.
"We're very lucky we found you when we did," Dumbledore said quietly.
Harry made an expression of disbelief. Lucky?
"How'd I live?" he asked in a hoarse whisper, looking at Dumbledore, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Well, the way hanging is supposed to work is the neck is supposed to be broken instantly, then the person being hung loses conciousness and dies within twenty minutes. But if the person is very light -- such as yourself -- then the neck will not be broken and the person will instead be strangled to death." Dumbledore explained solumnly.
"And how'd you find me?" asked Harry quietly.
"Mr. Filch found me shortly after I was stunned--" Harry didn't see the shocked looks on Ron's and Hermione's faces "--and Professor McGonagall woke me up. I told them we had to find you and got many of the other teachers and ghosts to join the search. You were already unconcious when you were found, but you will recover. It was a very close call indeed."
Close call. Harry's whole life seemed to have been a series of close calls.
"Flying fuck," said Harry, picking up one of Ron's more creative vulgarities. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly. This was quite a change from the Harry who would apologize to Dumbledore for calling Rita Skeeter a cow in his presence. Then again, Harry then would not have attempted suicide, either.
"What?" Ron asked, wondering what exactly Harry was thinking. Harry looked over at Ron. He had forgotten they were there.
"Well," Harry said. "It's just... my whole life seems like a series of 'close calls.' It's like I'll never die."
They were all silent for a few moments. They didn't need to think very hard at all to realize how right Harry was.
"Maybe you won't," Ron said, finally, making everyone stare at him. "I mean... maybe it's like... destiny or something. Maybe there's something you need to do yet, so you can't die."
"But what if I don't *want* that destiny?"
"I don't think there's anything you can do about that," Ron replied.
Harry didn't want to believe it. But he couldn't help believing it, at least somewhat. What else could explain why he hadn't died by now? Off the top of his head the total of near misses reached the twenties. Could all of that have been a coincidence? Harry felt he would go mad if he had another failed suicide attempt. But he so desperately wanted to try....
***********************************
The next day Harry was released from the hospital wing. He walked slowly and silently with Ron and Hermione on the way back to the Gryffindor common room.
Harry stopped. It took a moment for Ron and Hermione to notice, they were each so wrapped up in their own sad thoughts. The looked back wearily at Harry, who was looking hungrily out of a window. Ron walked behind him and looked out of it, too. Harry was looking at the lake.
Ron tugged on Harry's sleeve gently.
"Come on, Harry," he said quietly, and they continued on. Ron tried desperately to think of something to tell Harry to prevent an attempt involving the lake.
"Don't do it, Harry," Ron said. He and Harry both knew what Ron was talking about. "It probably wouldn't even work. The Giant Squid would probably chuck you out or something. Like Dennis Creevy. Or the merpeople."
Harry had forgotten entirely about the Giant Squid bringing Dennis Creevy out of the water when he fell in. Ron was probably right, it probably wouldn't even work. Nothing would work, what with his "destiny" and all. It made Harry extremely angry. He wasn't ready to give up just yet.
************************************
Almost immediately after Ron and Harry entered the dormitory, a large black dog greeted them.
"Snuffles?" Harry asked, looking around the room to make sure they were alone. "What are you doing here?"
Instantly the dog was gone and Sirius Black stood in his place. He looked particularly solemn.
"I'm here to see my godson, of course," he said. Harry could tell it was not going to be a cheerful visit.
"Oh," he said, as though being reprimanded.
"Dumbledore's told me what you've done."
"Did he send you?"
"No. He doesn't know I'm here. And it's going to stay that way. But enough about me. Let's talk about you. Ron, please excuse us." Ron slipped out of the room. He sat down in front of the room, guarding the door.
Harry looked at Sirius wearily. Sirius stared steadily back. Finally Sirius spoke.
"You've tried to kill yourself twice in the last week," Sirius said. His voice was more sad than angry, and that is what touched Harry the most.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, trying to fight back tears.
"Are you more sorry about what you did or that you failed?" Sirius asked.
"I don't know," Harry said. Then, "That I failed. And that you're mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you," Sirius said, concern on his face.
"I tried to kill myself!" Harry yelled. "Why wouldn't you be mad at me? Why wouldn't that make you mad?"
"Harry, I care about you. You're my godson."
"Aren't you even just a little bit mad?"
"Well..." said Sirius. "Disappointed. But more concerned. Harry, don't try again, I'm here for you, everything will be all right."
"It won't be all right!" Harry cried, staring at Sirius. Disappointed. Sirius was disappointed in him.
"Harry, it will. Good will win in the end," Sirius said. "It has to." Harry picked up on the desperation in Sirius's voice.
"How can you be sure?"
"It... has to, Harry, it just *has* to. Isn't good always supposed to conquer evil?" Now Sirius was sounding choked up.
"I just don't see how it can."
"There has to be something! How'd you escape when he came back? Because there's always something!"
"There's always something with *me*, *I* never die, but Voldemort came back! It's only with me that there's 'always something.' Why can't I die?"
"Harry, what are you talking about?"
Harry looked lost for words for a few moments.
"Ron said something. In the hospital wing. About destiny. Dumbledore said it was a close call, and I said my whole life's been close calls, that it's like I'll never die. And Ron said maybe I can't die because it's my destiny and there's something I need to do yet."
Sirius could tell that at least a part of Harry believed this theory, but that he desperately wished it weren't true. He wasn't getting better.
Now it was Sirius's turn to be lost for words. Finally Harry spoke.
"Why don't you want Dumbledore to know you're here?"
"I'm supposed to be at Remus's. It's safer for me there. And don't change the subject."
"Sirius, don't put yourself in danger just to see me!"
"Put myself in danger? Harry, you're the one who's been putting himself in danger. Trying to... hang yourself and... slitting your wrists." Sirius found it hard to say it. "Did you use the knife I gave you?"
Harry didn't answer.
"Dammit, Harry!"
"Well I don't have it anymore," Harry mumbled.
"Well I should think not. Listen, Harry, I know you're having a hard time right now, but think of what it's doing to those who care about you to see you fall apart like this!"
"I know! If I were gone they wouldn't have to see that. And my *existence* is hurting them. It's hurting anyone around me. They're targets. Look what happened to Cedric."
"Harry... it's not your fault."
"He wouldn't have died if I weren't there."
"You don't know that."
"If I had just taken the Cup like he wanted me to and not had that stupid idea to take it together and tie for it--"
Sirius put his hands on Harry's shoulders.
"Harry, no! You couldn't have known! No one can know what's going to happen."
"But I thought you knew good was going to win in the end."
Sirius fell silent.
Harry turned and left.
***********************************
Harry was sitting in a chair in the common room, staring out the window, thinking about everything, particularly his conversation with Sirius. Sirius was disappointed in him. Harry never even thought about Sirius. He was Harry's only family, and Harry had completely neglected him. And Harry was hurting him, because Sirius had to see Harry like this. *"Think of what it's doing to those who care about you to see you fall apart like this!"* Sirius cared about him. But maybe that wasn't enough.
"Harry."
Harry jumped, and looked up to see Ron.
"Snuffles wants to see you," he bent down and whispered.
"He's still here?" Harry asked quietly. Ron nodded. Harry sighed, and followed Ron up to the dormitory.
"Thank you, Ron," Sirius said, with finality in his tone asking Ron to leave.
"You're still here," Harry said after Ron left them alone.
"I am. I'm not giving up on you, Harry. I'm staying."
"What will happen when Dumbledore finds out you're here?"
"He doesn't need to find out."
"But he will."
"You don't want me here?" Sirius asked.
Harry was silent. Sirius's presence confused his thoughts and feelings. It was almost... comforting having Sirius there. Which Harry could see was, of course, Sirius's intention. And Harry's will was starting to give in.
"You could probably get Dumbledore to let you stay," Harry mumbled. In that moment everything changed. They both knew then, somehow, that eventually Harry would get better. He may have been at the lowest of lows, but even his will to die was failing him, and Harry wanted Sirius to stay.
They both started to cry.
THE END
