Hey! Just a disclaimer, these characters and the Harry Potter series all belong to JK Rowling, but the story is made by me. If you don't like depressing themes and such, perhaps this isn't for you. This might be a Draco/Harry slash but I'm not sure. Also, this is during HBP and some things will be altered to fit the story. Here's the first chapter! If you like it please review it/fav it, I so so so appreciate it. More soon!
Harry Potter. The golden boy. Why was he constantly depressed, afraid, and angry at the world? He was born into a world where everyone he loves is being pursued by a mad man out for his blood and he's the only one who can stop him. Worthless. I have no idea what I'm doing. Why me? These thoughts plague him every second of every day. Why couldn't it have been Longbottom? He didn't really want it to be Neville, he was a good person, but wasn't Harry as well?
Finally, he made it to sixth year. He really didn't think he would be able to get this far, being in constant fear for his life and the fate of the world. The summer at the Dursley's certainly didn't help, the dementor incident made Dudley and his pack even more hostile. Grieving over Sirius' death didn't even seem to faze their unending torment.
Finally it was nearing the day to go back to Hogwarts, and he couldn't be more relieved. Just two days ago he had gotten a letter while he was weeding the garden that Dumbledore would be picking him up early, and that they had some business to attend. He scooted to the edge of his small, old bed. His side let out a stab of pain, and he took it in with a shallow breath. Just last week he'd gotten a firm elbow from Dudley when he was eating dinner because he didn't like the potatoes Harry made. He forgot to use any butter or oil on them so it must have disagreed with his stomach. The jab formed a surprisingly large blue-green bruise rather quickly like he'd been kicked in his ribs. Maybe Dudley had a future career as a heavyweight champion, he thought with a sneer.
He sighed, and pulled back his sleeve to look down at his forearm. "I must not tell lies" he repeated with a grimace. What a joke. He popped open his trunk. Immediately a flash of silver caught his eye. He'd gotten the idea a while after he was forced to use the bloodquill to remove the scarring with magic, but no matter which spells he tried, they wouldn't let up. They did lighten a bit, which was exciting but they never would erase. Snape even tried a few different ones on him but they did no more than what Harry could achieve. His breath picked up and he started to get a cold sweat. Was he really thinking about doing this? It came up a few times in the back of his mind but he never thought he would really do it. What, it isn't like I'm trying to hurt myself. He let out a breath. Yeah, okay, he'd do it once and it would be over, no big deal. He grabbed his potion's knife, which was a family heirloom, and a tang of worry hit him again. He prayed that his dad couldn't see him in this state. Harry admired the detailing on the handle and looked down at the words that marred his arm. He could do this. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. Does this make me one of 'those' people? He shook his head, he was doing this cause he was already robbed of having a normal life. His reflection was distorted in the blade, almost as if it were showing him what he looked like inside. He gathered his courage and brought down the sharp edge to the words on his arm, and he went in. Harry was so tuned in to slicing up each letter, as if every bad thing was suddenly off of his mind. Each letter was sliced in half, and he had at least a hundred cuts on his arm, and to his surprise, the stinging brought him some kind of peace.
Dumbledore was arriving today, Sunday. He was excited, but also nervous. What business will he need to attend? He wore a long sleeve as to avoid using a glamour. He was certain that the old wizard would be able to sense it, after all, he himself saw magical auras. Just as he thought that, he heard a rap on the door. He quickly rushed his trunk over to the door and opened it, Vernon yelling for him to do so already. The jolly wizard had a sparkle in his eye, that wasn't good. Harry instinctively put up mental wards when he felt a slight peering sensation. Dumbledore raised one eyebrow slightly but also seemed to fill with pride. This was how that usually went so it wasn't anything new. Harry told his relatives that he was leaving and they gave next to no acknowledgment, which was all that he could hope for. Swiftly picking up his trunk, Dumbledor apparated them from the dursley's living room, careful not to be in the line of sight. They arrived at an odd place.
"Harry, this is the temporary shelter of Horace Slughorn. I was hoping we could convince him to come back to Hogwarts to teach." Why couldn't the old man just tell him about this stuff? Harry internally rolled his eyes. Of course he wanted the 'boy who lived' to convince a teacher to come back. He did want Slughorn back but it was a little ridiculous.
"Horace!" Dumbledore called out. They must have been in the man's living room. Professor Slughorn let out an inaudible phrase and soon came into the room they were in.
"Albus. What are you doing here? I've told you I'm not coming back. Why do you have Harry with you? Would you both like some tea?" The man rambled on.
"My, it's absolutely filthy in here!" Dumbledore reprimanded. "Yes, we're here because we need you at Hogwarts. Time is ticking and we cannot find anyone more... qualified." Dumbledore said, looking at the papers scattered across the floor.
"Oh Albus, it's nothing a little bit of magic won't fix!" Slughorn said while flicking his wand and mumbling, obviously used to Albus' scorn. "And you have my answer. I'm not returning, I'm retired and it just isn't safe anymore! I'd be happy to teach Harry everything I know, but there is no need for me to be at Hogwarts." The man said, obviously cornered.
"You'd be happy to teach Harry but not the hundreds of students in need of your advice at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore shot back.
"Obviously, your students need someone other than an ex potion's master to teach them how to defend themselves, Albus."
"But we have no one else!" They went back and forth and Harry watched as they both made good counter points. Finally, he cleared his throat.
"I think that if you're willing to teach me, then you should be for every other Howgwarts student." Harry said, ending their rants. Slughorn's expression softened, and Albus looked like he'd won a debate.
"Okay, Harry. If you really think that you need me there, I'll help in any way I can. Your mother was one of my favourite students." Horace placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, following the sentimental statement. Harry gave him a small smile. "Would you all still like some tea?"
"Unless we can take it to go, I'm afraid not." Albus said, still smug over his victory. "School starts the same as always, September 1st. You're welcome to be there any time before then to collect yourself and look at the new curriculum." Slughorn nodded. "Oh, and Horace? Thank you." The professor smiled at the two of them, and Albus apparated himself and harry to the Burrow. Albus dropped Harry off and gave him a few words of wisdom, before leaving to Hogwarts. Harry took his trunk to the door and knocked, pleasantly surprised to see that Hermione was already there. They had a great lunch and told stories over dinner, and everything felt carefree for a while. Harry did make sure to place a glamour on his arm just in case he were to accidentally expose his shameful deed. He slept in Ron's room and dreamt of talking to his parents. He woke up with a single tear rolling down his cheek, but he didn't feel sad.
In the morning they got the news that Harry barely passed his O.W.L's and now he was even more stressed out that he had even harder exams to pass this year. That was the least of his worries, though. He felt a deep worry set in again, and itched for something to relieve it. His arm started to scab up, and when he saw it without the glamour, he was a little sick to his stomach. At least it did what was intended, and the words didn't magically connect again over the forming scars. Although it was sickening, he found it interesting to look at. He just sat and stared at his arm in the bathroom. Looking at it turned to picking and they started to bleed again. He aimed a quick scourgify at it and covered it up again with his glamour feeling more sick that he was like this.
The next day, Ron, Hermione, and Harry decided to go to Knockturn alley. Harry needed a few school supplies and Hermione loved to look at all the assortments of books, so they decided they'd take a quick trip. The trio walked around, keeping a low profile, when Harry saw platinum blonde hair peek out from within the crowd.
"I think I just saw Malfoy." Harry muttered.
"Well? Should we tail him?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged, it's not like he was there for anything other than what they were there for, but something compelled him.
"He went this way." Harry gestured to the right. They follow him to the Borgin and Burkes, to which they find the boy is simply buying some things for the upcoming school year. They slide out of the store without being noticed.
"There are a lot of prohibited things in that store." Ron said. "Nothing good is coming out of that." Ron said suspiciously. Harry had a gut feeling that something wasn't right.
They got their materials after stopping at Diagon Alley and went back to the burrow for the night. The next day they woke up early to have breakfast so they could be a 9 & 3/4 on time. Before Harry knew it, they were on their way to Hogwarts.