Why Should It Matter?
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Read and Review no matter what you think about it.
Thanks you to all that have read it so far:-)
Warning: This fic is extremely dark at the moment and contains cutting and suicidal thoughts.. if this makes you uncomfortable.. please don't read this.. thank you
Chapter Five
There was only suffering. Having to wake up each and every morning, knowing that you had no belonging where you were was one of those things that brought nightmares during the night. But even when the darkness slipped along walls, diminishing in the gentle sunshine, nothing would chase away those feelings. Nothing! Of course, being the youngest never helped anyone and this definitely was true in Ginerva Weasley's case. Being the only daughter had several disadvantages, especially with six older brothers running around and proving themselves more worthy than you. Sitting up in her bed, she glanced around the bedroom, longing to be back at the Burrow. Ever since the summer before her fourth year, Ginny had been neglected the chance to be at her own home because of Voldemort's return to power. Although, the rest of family also didn't have this privilege, she only felt for herself. Feeling rested, Ginny got out of her bed and decided to walk about the house at 12 Grimmauld Place. Eerie sounds formed around her as she walked down the creaking stairs. The noises alone were enough for Ginny to wish to return to her childhood home. Walking down the stairs, Ginny stopped in front of the room where Harry was sleeping. She hadn't seen him since he arrived and couldn't careless.
'Everything for the Boy Wonder!' She thought bitterly. She hated Harry Potter and all of his glory that he received for being so damn brave all the time. 'Whatever! Him and his damn bravery almost caused me to lose my life.' Slipping past the door, Ginny made her way toward the kitchen, deciding on a glass of water. Once settled in the kitchen with her water, Ginny placed her head upon the kitchen table, letting the images of randomness swarm throughout her brain. 'The only one I feel sorry for is me. I'm stuck in this damn family with all people that worship Potter and Dumbledore. I should have been like Percy, escaped while I could have.' Logically, there only one way out and Ginny was sure that she wouldn't be accepted there either. Being so close to Harry Potter looked bad, but also looked quite good. Smiling evilly, Ginny plotted everything out in her perplexed mind, only to have everything straighten out. She would vow her life and time to Voldemort.
The darkness still existed within the small bedroom. The lacking of a window dimmed the mood of Harry Potter, who laid on his bed, paralyzed with the pain within his physical and emotion beings. He cursed himself for being so stupid, falling victim to his blade again. The deep wound of his right arm still bled lightly, dripping through the blood soaked black sock. The nausea and fatigue of blood loss was becoming stronger with every passing minute. But he couldn't simply tell anyone about his injuries. Then they would know of his cutting. He would tell Hermione, but she would then really be scared and know nothing is improving with him. Harry needed to battle his demons head on. Feeling like the intelligent thing would to be cleanse his wounds, Harry walked over to his trunk, pulled out a clean shirt and pair of jeans, along with a cloak. Gathering the things in his arms, Harry headed over to the bathroom. Once inside of the bathroom, he locked the bathroom door behind him. Harry didn't really want to explain the cuts anytime soon or ever for that matter. Starting the bath water, Harry removed his shirt, exposing his bare abdomen and arms. Staring in the mirror, Harry looked down at his arms, gasping with the extent of the damage. Dark crimson oozed from deep swollen gashes that ran skewed along Harry's forearms. Shaking his head, he walked over to bathtub. He stripped down to the nude. Light flooded through the window, giving him a desperate trapped feeling. Once the tub was filled, Harry slipped into the warm water, only to experience unpleasant stinging coming from his forearms. His eyes watered as he clenched his teeth tightly. The blood oozed into the water, giving it a reddish color.
"Why did I do this?" Harry asked himself quietly, placing his head on the back of the tub ledge. Emotions battled deeply, making him wish that he could take back the cutting, but he knew that he would revisit the event over and over again. It was a vicious cycle that wasn't going to end ever. He was addicted to cutting and as soon as his body gave out that undeniable urge, Harry would walk over to his trunk and pulled out the sharp and jagged edged blade. He himself knew that help was needed, but he could admit he needed it. Admitting it would make him weak, unable to take care of himself. Turning on the water again, he heated the chilled water to continue thinking about everything that needed his attention. He raised his arm out of the water, examining it closer. It seemed as if the water had slowed the bleeding down, which was a relief to Harry.
"I'm not weak, but how come I cannot overcome this?" Another question he uttered from his slightly chapped lips. Letting the warm water cascade over his body, Harry closed his green eyes, to absorb the warmness. About ten minutes later, Harry decided that he was clean enough. Getting out of the bathtub, he wrapped a dark color towel around himself. Walking over to the cupboard, he looked for bandages and some type of potion for cuts. He was in luck, the cupboard contained some simple healing potions and bandages. Deciding the present was the best time to take care of his wounds, he sat down on the ledge of the bathtub. Pulling the cap off of the bottle, Harry poured some of the green potion upon his irritated skin. Clenching his teeth again, Harry muffled a silent scream from the application of the potion. Instantaneously, the cuts lost some of the swelling and the healed quite a bit. Harry took the bandages and wrapped them around his forearms, still cringing from the throbbing feeling existing in the cuts. Once the cuts were dressed, Harry put on his clean clothes. Looking in the mirror at himself, he noticed his extremely pale skin, which he gather was from the loss of blood. Sighing deeply, Harry gathered up his things and made sure no trances of blood existed, before exiting the bathroom.
He felt much better and hoped that he wouldn't get the urge to cut himself for a few days at least. His body wouldn't be able to handle another one like that without him collapsing, which wouldn't be good at all. On his way back to his bedroom, Hermione passed him.
"Morning Beautiful." Harry said to Hermione, who was taken back by the comment.
"Good morning to you too!" She replied in a chipper tone. Hermione continued into the stairs, where she looked back at Harry, thinking that he wasn't there anymore. Harry smiled at her, making her turn a bright red before she proceeded up the stairs. Continuing into his bedroom, Harry threw his bloody clothes into his trunk, before taking one of his books on Quidditch and walking over to the kitchen. He was okay, for now. The thought of his blade had exited his mind and Harry would be able to function normally for a few hours until the darkness raged its full potential upon the earth. Sitting down at the kitchen table, Harry was greeted by Mrs. Weasley.
"Good morning Harry dear." She said, walking busily around the kitchen. "You look a little pale this morning, are you feeling alright?" Harry nodded, lying slightly. Harry noticed Ginny sitting at the end of the table, staring off into space.
"Morning Ginny." Harry said, realizing it was honestly the first time the two had spoken since he arrived to Grimmauld Place.
"Morning." She muttered, acting like he didn't exist. Harry wondered what was wrong with her, but ignored it. Harry picked up his book and began to read from it. Looking at the Quidditch formations, calmed the Gryffindor no matter what he was feeling. Seeing the moving pictures made him wish he could go flying and play Quidditch with his Gryffindor teammates.
"Wow, I think that I'm going to faint, Harry's reading a book." Hermione commented as she walked into the kitchen, smiling widely.
"Just because some of us don't live in books, Hermione, doesn't mean that we don't read at all." Harry said, using fake sarcasm. Hermione smirked, causing Harry to laugh. "You looked like the ferret when you did that. Please Hermione, never smirk again." He said using a begging tone within his voice.
"Alright Prince Harry, anything for you." Hermione smiled, sitting down beside Harry. "So what are you reading anyway?" She tried looking over his shoulder, but was unsuccessful.
"A book on Quidditch." Harry responded, knowing that he would hear about just reading something about a sport, instead of having his nose inside of something with educational value.
"I should have known. You would never read anything to expand your intelligence." She rolled her eyes at him, being slightly disappointed, but yet again, it was Harry.
"Well just for that comment, I'm going to read something educational one day and make you die from shock." He paused, suddenly getting a sharp pain in his arm. He tried not to express the pain and continued speaking. "Wait, I cannot do that. Then no one would give me answers to my homework." Hermione's eyes narrowed and Harry couldn't help but laugh hysterically at the look on her face. "I was joking, Hermione. You know I love ya!" He said, getting up from the table and walking out of the room. He decided he would talk to Ron for a while. 'Better than hearing preaching about educational things.' Harry thought, smiling all the way to Ron's room.
"Well, he certainly seems to be in better spirits." Hermione told Remus, later on that day. Remus smiled, happy that Harry seemed to be getting better.
"I guess we have you to thank for that." Remus told Hermione, absolutely beaming at the young witch. "I guess Harry needed a really good friend and you supplied him with that."
"Well, I think that he is long from done, but he is certainly better." Hermione needed to add that when her mind drifted off to the conversation that had taken place between her and Harry just a few days previously.
Remus studied Hermione's facial expressions after saying what she did. "Is there something seriously wrong with Harry? Is he hurting himself or something like that? Because if he is, he'll need to get help. Hermione, do you know anything like that?" Then she felt bad. She didn't want to lie to Remus, but she couldn't tell Harry's secret when she promised that she wouldn't.
"No, nothing like that is happening to my knowledge." She added to my knowledge to advert suspicion.
"Alright, but promise me, if anything like happens, you will tell me immediately."
"I promise, Remus. If anything like that arises, I will tell you about it."
"Thanks Hermione. Harry is really lucky to have a great friend like you." Hermione smiled, even though she didn't feel like a great friend. Just because she promised him, she couldn't tell anyone and she really wanted to. She cared about Harry and losing his friendship would be painful, yet not telling anyone about his suicidal thoughts was also making her a bad friend. She sighed quietly as Remus walked away to talk to Mrs. Weasley. Hermione decided that she needed to talk to Harry.
Knocking gently at Harry's door, Hermione waited for a response. The door opened and Harry stood in front of Hermione. His piercing green eyes stared back into her cinnamon brown eyes, making her almost weak kneed. "I want to talk to you." Hermione said quietly, pushing her hair out of her face. Harry stepped aside and let Hermione in. She walked over to his bed and sat down as Harry closed the door behind him. He sat down beside Hermione, watching her in the dim candlelight.
"What do you want to talk about, 'Mione?" Harry asked, feeling it had something to do with what she and Remus had talked about.
"Harry, I need you to be truthful. Are you hurting yourself at all?" She feared his answer when his eyes changed drastically from chipper to sorrowful. "When?"
"Hermione, I never said anything."
"I saw it in your eyes, it was so obvious."
"Yesterday and the day before." He stated quietly, feeling ashamed of himself, which was causing the desire of cutting himself to show its ugly face again.
"Oh Harry." Hermione said, still not believe he actually did hurt himself. "Let me see." Harry pulled off his shirt, revealing two bandaged arms. Hermione felt sick, not believing anything like this was happening. 'It's a dream.' She told herself constantly in her mind, but she never woke up for the nightmare that was unraveling. He undid the bandages to reveal the healing cuts. Hermione gasped at the sight of them, looking up at Harry's face, which was completely shunned in embarrassment.
"I put some healing potion on them, which is why they aren't as bad as they were." Harry whispered, as Hermione touched the wounds gingerly. They stung with every touch, to the point where Harry pulled his arm away quickly.
"Was I hurting you?" He nodded. "Sorry." The look of embarrassment still was plastered upon Harry's face. "Harry, there is no need to be embarrassed. Now that I know, I will be able to help you." She said softly to the boy who was pressured to be perfect.
"I don't understand it, Hermione. It's an uncontrollable urge. Most of the times, I don't know that I'm doing it until it happens." The urge pounded in his head. 'Cut yourself!' repeated relentless over and over again. "Like now, all I can hear in my head is 'cut yourself'."
Hermione placed a hand on Harry's back and gently rubbed it up and down. Harry lowered his head into his hands, feeling so insanely uncontrollable. "It'll be all right, I promise." Hermione whispered to Harry. "Now, listen to me." Harry looked up and into Hermione's eyes. "I'm not going to tell anyone, unless you want me to. And let me finish before you say anything." She paused, making sure her last point got across to Harry. "Now, if I don't tell anyone, you're going to have to tell me everything, so I can help you."
"I don't want anyone else to know, I don't need their pity." Harry bitterly replied.
"Alright, then I'm going to help you through his, even if it takes forever. Now, tonight, I want you to keep these with the bandages off, they need some oxygen. Tomorrow, put more healing solution and bandages on them. I think that you should try to go to sleep now." Hermione felt like a mother, more than a friend, which she really didn't mind. She cared about him too much to let anything happen to him. "Another thing, if you ever get these urges, come talk to me. I will talk to you no matter what. I don't care if it is three o'clock in the morning, this is important." Harry nodded, as he laid down upon his bed. The urges were diminishing slowly as Hermione continued to comfort him. As Harry drifted into a dreamless sleep, Hermione continued to sit beside his sleeping form, silently crying. 'What am I going to do?' She knew that she was going to have to convince him to tell someone about this problem, if it was the last things that she did.
AN: Here's the new chapter... read and review.. this one is probably the longest one so far.. the darkness still is there.. but I think that I might lighten it soon..
sweetfrv
