Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, there-fore, I'd appreciate it, if you did not sue…Thank you!
Warning: This chapter contains a rather explicit Suicide scene. If you are easily offended do not read.
Running...
Running; needing to get away from all the accusations, all the lies.
Why can't they leave me alone?
He stopped upon hearing footsteps echoing throughout the corridor directly in front of him.
Waiting with bated breath, he roughly wiped the tears from his eyes and watched the figure emerge from the shadows.
"Potter" Snape; just what he needed. "And what may I ask is the reason for you to be wandering the corridors at this time of night?" He sneered as he took in the battered state of his least favourite student.
"Sorry professor, I-I was just going to the bathroom" Harry replied uneasily.
"Yes I see... Why Potter, is it that you bothered with the effort of walking all the way down here, when there is a bathroom placed rather conveniently in your dormitories?" Damn, Harry thought suddenly,
"I needed some fresh air, and Ron was in the Boy's bathroom, so I came down here. Now if you don't mind sir" He looked upwards pleadingly "I'm kind of desperate"
He hoped his Potion's professor would grow bored with the conversation and simply let him go, with the simple deduction of a few house points.
"Very well Potter. As I do not wish my time to be wasted by the likes of you, then I'll let you go"
Finally, Harry thought as he turned to make an escape
"However..." Oh great… "I feel 50 points should be sufficient as a punishment. What do you think Potter?" He could see Snape's smirk through the strips of moonlight filling the corridor.
"Yes sir, I-I guess ...Yes...That's fine. Goodnight Sir."
And with that he turned and fled down the hallway, not seeing the look of suspicion rising in the glittering pools of his professor's coal black eyes.
Once he had put a space of a couple floors between him and his professor, Harry leant despairingly against the wall of the corridor.
I need to get away from this, He thought as he sunk to the ground.
He had been feeling like this for a while now; depressed. That was what Hermione had called it, while he, Harry, had been eavesdropping on the conversation on one of his dream-induced, sleepless nights. He let out a bitter laugh at that thought. Of course he was depressed. Who wouldn't be? He shook his head with a strangled sob.
He straightened himself shakily as he began to make his way in the direction on the Gryffindor tower. But upon sight of the fat lady he started thinking of what would happen if he were to just...go back.
I would have to lie and say I'm fine, He shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought.
I'll have to laugh at all their stupid pointless jokes. I'll have to act happy around them, just so they don't ask questions, He scoffed as he turned around again and made his way to the astronomy tower.
His journey did not last that long as after only a couple strides he was hit from behind with a leg-locker curse and fell heavily to the rough ground beneath him, resulting in a harsh contact between his nose and said floor.
Groaning as he tried to free his legs he saw the distinct shine of platinum blonde hair as he felt a blow to the side of his already bruised face.
Letting out a small whimper he tried, weakly, to turn away from the next hit, but did not succeed, when another forceful punch was met with his chin and his lip split, spilling rivulets of blood into his mouth.
Breathing heavily he decided to just succumb to the hits as he knew he deserved them anyway.
Coughing he began to think; he deserved everything he got. He was the one who had put Malfoy's father in Azkaban. He knew what it was like to not have a father and had been feeling guilty at the thought of causing Malfoy to lose his.
When the pain finally began to subside, Harry was left bleeding from his tender mouth and breathless from the effort of trying to keep his head up. He felt the curse being removed as he sat up quickly, willing to get away, resulting in a wave of dizziness to pass over him.
His eyes met with ice-cold grey and he stopped, unable to remove himself from the gaze. The blonde boy uttered just three words. Those three words, was all it took for Harry to feel the familiar sting in his now dull eyes and feel his chest tighten with every breath.
Those words, which had been shouted at him so many times in his life, had never been said with such pure unadulterated venom.
"I hate you..." was all that was said before Malfoy turned around and left with a smug swish of his cloak, leaving Harry alone, again.
His heart filled with utmost despair as he ran. He ran wherever his legs would take him. He swerved to the sides as he scrambled to get a hold of the wall in his attempt to flee.
He finally stumbled upon the 6th year bathroom and wrenched open the door as he fell to the ground, his head spinning with thoughts and images. He looked to the sink and saw an object catch the light as he moved his eyes across the cold room. Crawling from exhaustion, he felt around for it. And once his hands were upon the offending item he held it up to see in the inky moonlight as his glasses had long been broken.
He let out a gasp as he felt it slice through his delicate skin and let it drop to the floor, a loud clatter resounding in the room. His heart was now pumping with adrenaline. The small rush of pain he had felt as it has pierced his flesh had felt so good, so real, so, pure.
He picked it up again and suddenly thought back to Sirius' laughing face.
I wonder what you would be thinking of me now eh Sirius
His head bowed as he settled on the floor, still holding onto the knife as if it were his life source.
I always wondered if you were ever proud of me you know
He let out a dry laugh. He knew Sirius could never have been proud of him. He was never as witty, or as intelligent as his parents, never as funny and outgoing as his father, never as clever or attractive as his mother. He was never anyone worthy of notice or attention he thought bitterly, as he turned the knife over in his hands.
Tears were flowing freely down his bruised cheek, as he let his thoughts run wild. He stood up to look in the mirror as he made the first cut, watching the slight flinch of pain materialize on his face. He let out a sigh as he felt a small flow of blood leave his body, it made him smile, and for that rare sight, he did it again.
He made another cut and another, until his already abused arms were covered in blood. Running his fingers along the now raised surface he felt slightly nauseous and gripped the blood stained sink before him. His vision was becoming unclear. Darkness began to creep into the corners of his eyes and he watched as it drew nearer; his hands had gone numb with the effort of holding his body up for so long.
A diminutive smile made its way to the surface of his chapped lips as he cut deeper, causing more blood to flow down his pale, thin arms.
More hot tears started to stream as the blade pushed deeper and deeper into his flesh.
I didn't want this, He thought, as he yet again removed the foreign object was his broken tissue.
All of a sudden his vision lunged; he stumbled and fell back against the sideboard in the bathroom. Dry, heaving sobs emitted from deep within his chest. Sobs no-one shall ever hear, as no-one cares, no-one.
I'm so alone, He thought as he curled up further into himself as he began to feel the coldness enter his veins.
A sudden acidic feeling rapidly moved toward his throat and, barely able to keep his eyes from closing, he desperately tried to shift toward the toilet, but unsuccessful, he began to retch, causing more pain-filled cries to be heard, echoing hauntingly throughout the dense atmosphere.
He felt the last of his energy leave him as his arms give way from the slight pressure of his thin frame being placed upon them, and he fell, broken, to the cold stone floor. His glasses fell and shattered completely upon impact. He reached his hands out, in a frantic attempt to grab the knife one last time to end it...But he could not reach.
He looked toward the ceiling as he feebly tried to roll over; a sharp gasp could be heard as his stomach was disturbed yet again.
His body lay limp in the darkness as his heartbeat began to slow and his breathing evened out... he smiled then. He could feel his life leaving his drained body, the blood spilling around him, surrounding him in its crimson depths, reflecting almost angelically in the pale moonlight, bathing him in its wondrous depths of mystery.
And as he took one last trembling breath, the only thought, lingering in his abused mind, were the words; I'm Free...
A/N: Is he truly gone? You decide. If you wish me to post another chapter and carry on this story review and tell me…If not, tell me anyway
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Kellie xxx
This story has been re-done. I am re-doing, or updating most of my stories at the present moment. Feel free to check them out and tell me what you think?