(Disclaimer: I didn't do it! Oh wait I mean, I do not own Harry poth- erm
Potter!)
I hope that I do not do too dismally! Bare with me everybody okay? Flames Allowed this chapter only! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
Harry James Potter sat on his bed on Privet Drive a nasty looking blade in his hand. His left arm was on his left leg palm up and the tip of his tiny but incredibly sharp dagger was lightly pressing into his wrist. Slowly he moved it up his arm, as he had done many times before and grunted as he cut half way around his arm in the crook of his elbow. As the blood spilled into the small bowl joining the rest of the collection from the past week, he reflected on his past adventures.
'I sit here alone. Being solely responsible for my godfather's death, can I go on living? Apparently, and this makes me feel as horrible as Wormtail, I can live while those I care for have died, for I am afraid. I am afraid of death. I... am a coward. Common filth.' Harry did the same to his other arm, this time deeper with anger and disgust, thoughts of this nature consuming him. He was so deep in this daily ritual that he heard not the door burst open downstairs, nor his uncle and aunt trading well placed insults with two young Wizards, he didn't even hear them coming up the steps. So it is no surprised jumped when his bedroom door flew open and his usual ritual was interrupted. Someone crossed the room in a blur and knocked the blade and bowl of blood away. This someone was Ronald Weasly, his best friend.
Dear old Ron wasn't alone though, seconds later Hermione Granger ran right at him, flung her arms around him and knocked him back on the bed. She was sobbing, sobbing uncontrollably. And it was his entire fault.
Harry looked down unbelieving... he had done this, made this beautiful girl cry, he wanted to comfort her, to say everything was okay, but he'd be lying. What he wanted most was to be able to plunge his blade deep into his disgusting worthless heart. To end it now for the pain he had caused her. Though somehow he knew he wouldn't, not yet anyway.
However, some tiny hint of him returned and he put a comforting hand on Hermione's back as she cried, his black button up shirt becoming damp. Harry held her that way for a good while, Ron examining the blade Harry had used in disgust. He tossed it aside and growled. "Harry Potter, you idiot!" Ron said a moment after Hermione had let him up. This comment was accompanied by a strong stinging blow to the face.
Harry's first reaction was to ball up his fist, and raise it for a return punch that would probably release a few of Ronald's teeth. His second to let it loosen his hand, his third to sigh and say, "I guess I deserved that, Hermione you have my blood on you... you should wash up. Bathroom is across the hall." She left promising a return and making him promise to be there.
Ron sat down on the bed and said. "This has to be the stupidest thing in history!" Harry rounded on him, his rage resurfacing.
"OH YEAH!? DID YOU JUST CAUSE YOUR GODFATHERS DEATH!? ARE YOU LIVING WITH VERNON, DUDELY AND PETUNIA DURSLEY OF NUMBER FOUR PRIVET DRIVE!? I THINK NOT!" He roared. Ron did something uncharacteristic then, he matched Harry's voice level.
"THE GIRL WHO LOVES YOU IS ACROSS THE HALL WORRIED SICK YOU IDIOT! AND WHAT DO YOU DO!? CUT YOURSELF! THAT'S VERY WISE! WHATS YOUR NEXT GENIUS MOVE, RAMMING THAT THROUGH YOUR HEAD!?"
Harry calmed down and examined the blade now taking it in his hand. "You don't know how many times that almost was the next move, and the last, Ron. And anyway, all those close to me die! SO if I die they won't have to worry." A solemn, morbid voice said, "If you die, then everyone dies. As Dumbledore told you last year." Weakly, Hermione whimpered as she whispered it. "How did you know?"
Hermione said nothing for a second and then, "I'm not sure. I really don't know." She was now washed up and looking more beautiful then ever went right to him and hugged him tightly. "You and Ron are coming to stay the summer... I'll need someone to keep me company while my parents are away... other then the butler."
Harry's eyes were bloodshot; they had a haze that reflected his inner confusion. But he couldn't decide what if... he finally got the guts to end it? Would he kill himself right there in one of Hermione's guest rooms? The answer came to him easily enough and he knew he spoke the truth. 'Yes.' Using a smile as he so often did, to cover up his pain, he replied. "Sounds good. Knight bus?" Ron who was silent and looked rather grudging letting this go so quickly, watched as the master negotiator that was Harry led her away from the subject of his attempts at his own life gracefully and easily. Ron unable to help it, found himself sickened with his friend, and his friends empty, hollow, lying excuse for a smile.
I hope that I do not do too dismally! Bare with me everybody okay? Flames Allowed this chapter only! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
Harry James Potter sat on his bed on Privet Drive a nasty looking blade in his hand. His left arm was on his left leg palm up and the tip of his tiny but incredibly sharp dagger was lightly pressing into his wrist. Slowly he moved it up his arm, as he had done many times before and grunted as he cut half way around his arm in the crook of his elbow. As the blood spilled into the small bowl joining the rest of the collection from the past week, he reflected on his past adventures.
'I sit here alone. Being solely responsible for my godfather's death, can I go on living? Apparently, and this makes me feel as horrible as Wormtail, I can live while those I care for have died, for I am afraid. I am afraid of death. I... am a coward. Common filth.' Harry did the same to his other arm, this time deeper with anger and disgust, thoughts of this nature consuming him. He was so deep in this daily ritual that he heard not the door burst open downstairs, nor his uncle and aunt trading well placed insults with two young Wizards, he didn't even hear them coming up the steps. So it is no surprised jumped when his bedroom door flew open and his usual ritual was interrupted. Someone crossed the room in a blur and knocked the blade and bowl of blood away. This someone was Ronald Weasly, his best friend.
Dear old Ron wasn't alone though, seconds later Hermione Granger ran right at him, flung her arms around him and knocked him back on the bed. She was sobbing, sobbing uncontrollably. And it was his entire fault.
Harry looked down unbelieving... he had done this, made this beautiful girl cry, he wanted to comfort her, to say everything was okay, but he'd be lying. What he wanted most was to be able to plunge his blade deep into his disgusting worthless heart. To end it now for the pain he had caused her. Though somehow he knew he wouldn't, not yet anyway.
However, some tiny hint of him returned and he put a comforting hand on Hermione's back as she cried, his black button up shirt becoming damp. Harry held her that way for a good while, Ron examining the blade Harry had used in disgust. He tossed it aside and growled. "Harry Potter, you idiot!" Ron said a moment after Hermione had let him up. This comment was accompanied by a strong stinging blow to the face.
Harry's first reaction was to ball up his fist, and raise it for a return punch that would probably release a few of Ronald's teeth. His second to let it loosen his hand, his third to sigh and say, "I guess I deserved that, Hermione you have my blood on you... you should wash up. Bathroom is across the hall." She left promising a return and making him promise to be there.
Ron sat down on the bed and said. "This has to be the stupidest thing in history!" Harry rounded on him, his rage resurfacing.
"OH YEAH!? DID YOU JUST CAUSE YOUR GODFATHERS DEATH!? ARE YOU LIVING WITH VERNON, DUDELY AND PETUNIA DURSLEY OF NUMBER FOUR PRIVET DRIVE!? I THINK NOT!" He roared. Ron did something uncharacteristic then, he matched Harry's voice level.
"THE GIRL WHO LOVES YOU IS ACROSS THE HALL WORRIED SICK YOU IDIOT! AND WHAT DO YOU DO!? CUT YOURSELF! THAT'S VERY WISE! WHATS YOUR NEXT GENIUS MOVE, RAMMING THAT THROUGH YOUR HEAD!?"
Harry calmed down and examined the blade now taking it in his hand. "You don't know how many times that almost was the next move, and the last, Ron. And anyway, all those close to me die! SO if I die they won't have to worry." A solemn, morbid voice said, "If you die, then everyone dies. As Dumbledore told you last year." Weakly, Hermione whimpered as she whispered it. "How did you know?"
Hermione said nothing for a second and then, "I'm not sure. I really don't know." She was now washed up and looking more beautiful then ever went right to him and hugged him tightly. "You and Ron are coming to stay the summer... I'll need someone to keep me company while my parents are away... other then the butler."
Harry's eyes were bloodshot; they had a haze that reflected his inner confusion. But he couldn't decide what if... he finally got the guts to end it? Would he kill himself right there in one of Hermione's guest rooms? The answer came to him easily enough and he knew he spoke the truth. 'Yes.' Using a smile as he so often did, to cover up his pain, he replied. "Sounds good. Knight bus?" Ron who was silent and looked rather grudging letting this go so quickly, watched as the master negotiator that was Harry led her away from the subject of his attempts at his own life gracefully and easily. Ron unable to help it, found himself sickened with his friend, and his friends empty, hollow, lying excuse for a smile.