Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Series nor the characters. They are all J.K Rowling's.
Warning: Harry being suicidal and depressed, then ended up dying, slight cursing
A/N: I shall share this piece that I had written ever since 3 a.m. It's now 3:58, which meant it took me almost an hour. Whooo, yay me. I'm also too lazy to check the spelling and grammar at this hour, so I'm gonna edit this in the morning. I also poured my heart out when I was writing this, on behalf of what Harry went through in the series. So I didn't really plan anything in this, most of these are just raw stuff I decided to write.
Alright. Toodles.
Harry was tired. Exhausted. Any words that were synonymous to it.
Well, being the Boy-Who-Lived was a tiring job after all. With a Dark Lord being the reason for most of what happened in his life, he supposed it was getting rather repetitive.
Not to mention, being the Boy-Who-Lived also meant that he couldn't have a normal year being a normal student just like the rest of his peers. Instead, he was regarded as a celebrity for defeating the Dark Lord as a baby. And don't get him started on how despite being popular, it comes with the effect where people would always pay attention to his accomplishments and mistakes.
Both of which weren't good things.
Being the Boy-Who-Lived was stupid. The British Wizarding World was stupid. Filled with sheeps among sheeps. Bigots and prejudiced people. The students in his school were no better.
Think he had forgotten Second Year, did you? Bloody hell, no! The students whispered behind his back, some bold ones would always try to insult or even hexed him. Accusing him, pointing fingers at him the moment he just hissed at a snake to help that poor sod who was about to be bitten by it.
This time, in his Fourth year, it's the same thing all over again! His name was drawn from the Goblet, great, to think he was about to have a peaceful year. Nope! He had to be stuck in a magical binding contract that wouldn't let him leave the tournament unless his magic would be ripped out from him! Nice! FAN-BLOODY-TASTIC!It's either die or no magic. Haha, nice joke, Fate.
Oh look, everyone was pointing fingers now.
Oh look, someone was accusing him of cheating.
Oh look, Ron wasn't talking to him. He didn't believe in his best friend.
Oh look, the Hufflepuffs were angry at me for stealing their champion, Cedric Diggory's, victory!
Oh look, looks like I'm being painted as the bad guy by the school. Was that a Potter Stinks badge? Thanks Malfoy, he could always count on him for making his life even miserable.LOOK, A LOT OF PEOPLE WERE WEARING IT, PROUDLY SHOWING HOW MUCH THEY HATED HIM.OH, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, NO ONE FUCKING BELIEVES THAT I'M INNOCENT. BECAUSE OF COURSE, HARRY POTTER, THE BOY-WHO-LIVED, WAS AN ARROGANT PERSON WHO CHASED FOR FAME AND GLORY, EVEN GOING AS FAR AS TO ENTER A DANGEROUS TOURNAMENT THAT COULD POTENTIALLY KILL HIM.
OF COURSE. HADN'T HE ALMOST BEEN KILLED FOR ALMOST EVERY YEAR EVER SINCE HE CAME HERE SINCE FIRST YEAR?
ALMOST GETTING KILLED BY VOLDEMORT WHO POSSESSED HIS DADA PROFESSOR.
ALMOST DYING FROM THE BASILISK POISON.
ALMOST GETTING THE KISS FROM THE DEMENTOR.
HAHA, WHY NOT ADD A DANGEROUS TOURNAMENT INTO THE MIX. BECAUSE OF COURSE, HARRY POTTER LOVED TO DIE FOR FAME.OF COURSE, HARRY LOVED TO DIE.
Wasn't that what he wanted?
To die?
To stop the pain?
Every time. Every year. Nothing will go well. Nothing will be a normal year.
Ever since Voldemort killed his parents, ever since he had gotten this scar, it's as if Fate had planned this. For him to suffer, first in the home of his relatives who locked him up in his cupboard for his entire eleven years of living, then shoving him into a world who only knew him as the boy who had killed the Dark Lord, thus hated and loved for it.
No one knew him as Harry. They only knew him as the Boy-Who-Lived.
They only see him as the Boy-Who-Lived.
They don't see the boy underneath that moniker, the boy who lived in the cupboard for his entire childhood, bullied and abused by his relatives. They don't see the boy who they targeted their malicious words to was hurt by it, they don't see the pain nor sadness in his eyes whenever someone hexed or jinxed him in the hallway. They only see the boy who had come from fame and glory, and beat him down so that they could be satisfied that they were able to bring down the oh so arrogant and powerful Potter.
After all, it wasn't as if Harry Potter was a boy. He was powerful, surely he could handle all those things.
He hated them.
He hated them so much.
It made him wonder, why was he here? Why did he kept on living if he was just going to get killed next year anyway. Bet the Dark Lord was going to rise up once again and did the deed once and for all, thus ending his pathetic and miserable life as the Boy-Who-Lived.
He should just get on with it. Make it easier for the Dark Lord so that the man wouldn't bother wasting his magic on a worthless person like him.
Who the bloody hell cared if he died. The media would just suck it all up and that his death would be published in the History books. It would probably be treated as a joke as people laugh and jeer at the news of his death, not even surprised and didn't even care that he died.
How morbid, but that's just how it was. Harry Potter wouldn't be known as Harry. No one would know who Harry was. Because all they know was the Boy-Who-Lived.
Hell, maybe even Snape would be happy. He wouldn't put it past that bastard.
Maybe...
Harry glanced at his wand, then up at the starry night sky. He shivered when the cold wind brushed against his skin, wrapping his arms around him to hug himself, his eyes stinging red with hot liquid.
Maybe he could meet his parents again. The pain was too much for him, too much for his mind and heart to keep in. It made his magic more chaotic, unable to keep still in his body.
Yes yes... that was a good idea.
Besides, he wasn't planning on staying anyway. Everything was too much for him. The entire year was just a mess on his part.
He hoped Hermione wouldn't mind him leaving. Leaving for good. Dying for good. Just like what everyone wanted. She had Ron, after all. Why would she need a burden like him.
Raising his wand to point at him self, almost dangling from his fingers. Harry whispered the two words that were meant to kill him at the very start.
Simple. Quick. Painless.
"Avada Kedavra."