He was angry. Sometimes his thoughts alone ate him up so much he couldn't even breath. He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout, he wanted to attack the next person who walked by and just get all his anger out, because he didn't know how much longer he could contain it for.
It just wasn't fair. He knew that every teenager must have that thought in their own minds at least once a week, but with him he knew it was more justified. He was losing everyone in his life, slowly, and it had been that way ever since he was born. He had done spectacular things before he could even remember and he had so much to live for in the regard everyone was expecting him to save their world. All he wanted was a normal life, that was enough for most people! Some people couldn't even handle that, and yet he had to live the normal life along with all this extra crap everyone had piled onto his shoulders!
He shoved the pile of books he needed for that nights homework to the ground, the loud noise satisfying his anger. He wanted to smash something, break something even! But he knew he would regret doing it to his own things and he couldn't do it to anyone else...
He needed to get out to get away, so he grabbed his broom and jumped right out the window on it, plummeting 20 meters before he caught himself, his head now a little clearer with the adrenalin in his veins.
He dived under the Quidditch pitch stands to the place he had always disappeared to and flung himself off his broom, letting it drop beside him.
He wanted parents. He wanted Sirius back and he wanted Ginny. Ginny was alive, unlike the rest of them but he could never condemn her to the life he had to live. He was setting her free, even if at this stage she yelled that it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to be with him, and although he only half listened, she had said she needed to validate her life…make up for where and when she had gone wrong, but he couldn't listen to all that because in his mind, she were an angel.
One he would only kill if he kept her close. Everyone else around him died?
Harry muttered the word to his wand, and then grated it against his arm, right from his palm to the bend of his elbow, eyes closed as he drowned in the tantalising pain. He did it again, harder and harder until he withdrew. He didn't want to die as well, not until he had saved his friends anyway, he just wanted to take a bit of the pain he had caused everyone else. Preparing himself for death, since he knew he'd die when he met Voldemort in the final war. And it would be the final war, he would make sure of that.