The boy stared out the window, while wandering around the Head Boys
dormitory aimlessly. It was only a matter of time now, he just had to wait
until he was sure no one else was in the tower. The past three years had
been pure and simple torture for him. Gradually, everyone and everything he
loved either was killed or slipped away from him. He couldn't take it any
longer.
Finally, when the clock struck seven, he took out his razor blade. Sliding it gently along his finger tips, he saw the skin tear open jaggedly, and bleed. But somehow it didn't hurt. Finally, he raised it above his right wrist. With a quick slash, the artery was torn, and bleeding profusely. With what little strength he had left, he did the same with his left wrist.
As the blood spilled out onto the letter he had written earlier, he finally let the blessed darkness of death slip over him. His green eyes glazed over for the last time, he fell backwards onto his bed, his glasses slipping off his face to land underneath him. Nobody would find him for hours. He had done his job, saved the rest from Voldemort.
But to do so, he had given the most precious thing of all. The dreams of battles, and seeing all those he loved gone were to much for him. A year after the defeat, Harold James Potter killed himself. The rest of the world would mourn for their boy hero, who no one knew was in danger of doing so. To them, he was just another happy seventeen year old, about to burst out into the world a bright new world ahead of him.
But to they own self be true, as the old saying goes. And what was true for Harry Potter was death. Death had been part of him since he was a year old, as it was his destiny. Albus Dumbledore knew that when Voldemort was defeated, Harry would be lost in the process. He just didn't know it would be this soon though. But that's the way the world is, completely out of control, with it's own mind and own choices.
****AUTHORS NOTE****
Man, this was so hard to write. I don't even know why I killed off Harry. He's one of my favorite charactors. Please don't hate me. And no flames, please. Seriously though, I want to know what you think. This will be the first non song-fic that I've posted. It's probably not that good, but I'm taking a risk.Tell me if you want me to write more.
Finally, when the clock struck seven, he took out his razor blade. Sliding it gently along his finger tips, he saw the skin tear open jaggedly, and bleed. But somehow it didn't hurt. Finally, he raised it above his right wrist. With a quick slash, the artery was torn, and bleeding profusely. With what little strength he had left, he did the same with his left wrist.
As the blood spilled out onto the letter he had written earlier, he finally let the blessed darkness of death slip over him. His green eyes glazed over for the last time, he fell backwards onto his bed, his glasses slipping off his face to land underneath him. Nobody would find him for hours. He had done his job, saved the rest from Voldemort.
But to do so, he had given the most precious thing of all. The dreams of battles, and seeing all those he loved gone were to much for him. A year after the defeat, Harold James Potter killed himself. The rest of the world would mourn for their boy hero, who no one knew was in danger of doing so. To them, he was just another happy seventeen year old, about to burst out into the world a bright new world ahead of him.
But to they own self be true, as the old saying goes. And what was true for Harry Potter was death. Death had been part of him since he was a year old, as it was his destiny. Albus Dumbledore knew that when Voldemort was defeated, Harry would be lost in the process. He just didn't know it would be this soon though. But that's the way the world is, completely out of control, with it's own mind and own choices.
****AUTHORS NOTE****
Man, this was so hard to write. I don't even know why I killed off Harry. He's one of my favorite charactors. Please don't hate me. And no flames, please. Seriously though, I want to know what you think. This will be the first non song-fic that I've posted. It's probably not that good, but I'm taking a risk.Tell me if you want me to write more.