Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. That privilege is..uh..J.K. Rowling. ; Uhm. If I did own it, there would be a lot of angsting and more Snape/Harry going on.

A/N: /mutter/ Erica made me post this. Otherwise, I wouldn't have. Okay. I was bored--because thesilversnitch is down! Wtf!--so..I decided...ANGST! Right. I know that it really sucks. And I apologize. I will be getting on with What They Didn't Tell Them immediately.. Once again, sorry. /goes and hides in a corner/ Stupid angst

SsS S STANDS FOR STORY!

Harry turned to look listlessly at the door. Someone was knocking. He didn't get up. It always went away, eventually. Everything went away, given enough time.

XxX

The knocking had eventually gone away, just as Harry had predicted. He sighed—a soft, almost noiseless sound—before turning his head to smash his face into the pillow. Everything…everything had gone away..Dumbledore, Hermione, Ron, Voldemort…Snape… All gone now. Each in their own way.

Harry muffled his screams into his pillow as the memories washed over him:

Dumbledore, turning his back, walking away from the…corpse. Walking away from…Severus.

Ron and Hermione, sneering, looking so evil it hurt his heart. He wondered why he had ever thought they were his friends…Why he thought that they would accept him..

Voldemort, finally defeated. His corpse just a mangled imitation of the man he had once been.

Severus…dead. Lucious had finally gotten him. After years of keeping his position as spy, after years of being found out and put into hiding…After years of hatred and friendship and finally…love towards Harry…Now just one of the millions whose lives had been claimed during the war. But Harry didn't care about all those others, he just wanted Severus back.

Slowly Harry succumbed to the darkness which always followed these brief flashbacks.

XxX

The knocking was back. He continued to ignore it. This time he was in the bath. The tepid water warmed his skin. Cold…so cold now that he was gone. Slowly, slowly Harry grasped the slim razor blade that he had found beneath the sink. He'd chuckled as he'd washed it with disinfectant. After all, what did it matter if the razor was infected or not? He stared at the silvery metal for a moment. This was his last chance to back out.

Harry gripped his wrist decisively. There was no point. Severus was gone. He wasn't needed by the wizarding world anymore. He had saved them from the monster. Everything was all right now, they had no use for a broken down hero anymore. He pulled the razor down his wrist in one quick motion, wincing at the imagined pain. Actually, it hadn't hurt. He stared as the blood gushed out. Then, quickly, he switched the razorblade to the bleeding hand and slashed at his other wrist. He watched the blood flow for a while, until he began to feel sleepy.

Then he lay his head back on the porcelain tiles and let his wrists loll in the water, mesmerized by the swirling red clouds that consumed the once-clear water.

So tired…so very tired. But soon, soon he would be with his beloved.

Soon…Severus.