An Unhealthy Escape
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter and its characters belong to the amazing J K Rowling.
A/N: I have to go back to school in a day :( Once I go back to school I may not be able to post as regularly as I have been, but I will continue to update my stories at least once or twice a week, probably more if I can manage it. I hope you enjoy the next chapter! Please leave a review and give me some feedback. Milo.
Chapter 5:
"NO! PLEASE NO! DON'T KILL HER PLEASE, PLEASE! NO! AGH!" Harry woke to Sirius' voice trying to calm him down.
"Harry it was just a nightmare. It's not real. He can't hurt you. Ginny's safe, she's coming to stay next week." Sirius knew that Harry had once again relived his experience in the Chamber of Secrets. Again, Sirius wondered why his godson continued to have this particular nightmare. He had a theory, but he would have to wait until the Weasleys arrived to see if it was correct.
Harry looked at Sirius, his emerald eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Harry are you okay?" Sirius asked, worry etched on his once handsome face. Sirius knew that Harry was not okay. A few days had passed since he and Remus had first found out about Harry's nightmares, and Harry still refused to talk about them, or take a dreamless sleep potion.
"I'm fine," Harry answered. This was Harry's answer to nearly every question that Sirius and Remus asked. Sirius and Remus were started to get very fed up with the stubborn teen.
"You're not fine Harry. You're up at least once or twice every night screaming because of nightmares, you barely do anything during the day aside from sit on your bed, and you don't talk to anyone unless you're asked a direct question. Also you refuse to see Ron, Hermione and Ginny. They're all really worried about you Harry," Sirius tried to talk to his godson again.
"That really was a great speech, but I'm tired." Harry replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Also, I asked you to put a silencing charm on my room." Harry rolled out of his bed and made his way to the bathroom, where he had stashed his blade earlier.
"Harry, you can't avoid talking about your problems forever," Sirius told him. It hurt him that Harry didn't want to talk to him.
"Watch me," replied Harry as he left the room. Remus stood in the doorway staring at Harry's retreating back.
"Still can't get him to talk?" he asked his friend.
"No. He keeps saying he's fine. I don't know what to do Moony. The nightmares haven't stopped, he won't talk to us and I just know that there are other things that he's hiding," Sirius said, his voice pained.
"I know. I don't think he's coping Sirius. I don't think he's coping at all."
Little did the two Marauders know, Harry was standing on the other side of the hall listening to their entire conversation. Anger flared within Harry and his piercing emerald eyes darkened a few shades. He didn't have to tell them anything. He was sick of people telling him he was not okay, that he was not coping, that he needed to talk to someone. He had been getting this crap from Ron and Hermione for years, he did not need it from Remus and Sirius too.
Harry walked the rest of the way to the bathroom and locked the door. He reached up and opened the cabinet on the wall above the sink, and opened it. He grabbed the box of plaster, which also had his blade hidden in it, and then shut the cabinet again.
Harry sat down on the tiles with his back against the door. He rummaged through the small box until he felt the metal of the razor blade. He pulled out the blade and let the box drop the floor beside him. He pulled up the sleeve of his pajama top, and looked at his arm. Just the other day, it had been covered in scars and cuts. Now it was barely possible to tell one cut apart from another, and his entire forearm was caked with dried blood.
Harry stood and walked over to the sink. He turned on the tap and stuck his arm under the water. Hissing in pain, he watched as the clear water was tainted with red blood, turning it a light pink color. Once his arm was clean, Harry walked back over to the bathroom door and resumed his former position on the tiled floor.
Harry could feel every emotion, every thought that seemed to stab at his heart. The anger he felt toward Sirius and Remus, trying to pry into everything; the hatred he felt towards himself for getting Cedric killed; the fear he felt for Ginny when he saw her lying unconscious on the Chamber floor, her brilliant red hair splayed around her head, the ends dyed a brighter shade of red as the ink from the cursed diary spread across the floor. Harry cut into his arm once, twice, three times and watched the blood drip onto the floor. He made another cut, this one deeper, the blood rushing out slightly too fast.
Harry knew he was losing control. He thought when he had starting cutting himself that he could control it, only go deep enough to satisfy his sick need for pain and relieve the tension in his chest. But he couldn't control it; he knew that now as he saw black and white spots interrupt his vision. If Harry was not careful he could end up doing some serious damage. Harry knew what he was doing was extremely dangerous, but he couldn't stop. He needed the release.
+The worst part about self-destruction is that you are fully aware of it, but there's nothing you can do to stop it+
Harry hurriedly grabbed a hand towel from the cupboard under the sink and pressed it firmly to the cuts on his forearm. After what seemed like forever, the bleeding finally stopped. Harry was still shaky; he had lost quite a lot of blood. He needed to clean it up before Remus came too close and smelled it. Then he would be in real trouble. Harry quickly cleaned the blood with the remaining towels in the cupboard, before filling the sink with bathroom cleaner and letting the towels soak in it to try to hide the sickening metallic smell.
Harry then took the towels out of the sink and carried them across to the laundry where he proceeded to put the towels in the washing machine and turn the temperature up as high as it would go. There, now no one would ever know. Harry crept back to his room and fell into a fitful sleep.
+ . . +
"Morning Harry," Sirius greeted his godson as he came down the stairs, hair still wet from his shower.
"You're finally out of the shower. We thought you might have been trying to drown yourself," Remus told him as he sat down tiredly at the table. Harry had been in the shower for a while. He could still feel the fierce stinging on his arm from where the scalding hot water seeped into his wounds. It hurt. 'Good,' thought Harry. 'It's what you deserve Potter'.
Harry didn't realize he had been staring at the table until Sirius started waving his hand in front of his face. "Hello? Anybody home?" Sirius asked. Harry jumped.
"Sorry," he mumbled, turning to the plate of breakfast that had materialized in front of him. "Just thinking."
"What about?" asked Sirius. He looked at his godson and saw the familiar pain in his eyes. Sirius was used to seeing this now. It had been there ever since Harry had come to them for the holidays.
"Nothing important," replied Harry. Harry pushed his food around his plate with his fork, as he had every morning for the past week.
"Harry you need to eat something," Remus said firmly. "You have eaten barely anything since you got here."
"I'm not hungry," Harry told them.
"Harry, please juts eat something, and then you can go and do whatever you want." Sirius and Remus continued to try to persuade the teen to eat something. Eventually Harry ate three spoonfuls of egg and a few bites of toast just to shut them up so that he would be a allowed to go back up to his bedroom.
Harry had been laying on his bed for about twenty minutes when he heard someone knock on the door.
"Come in!" Harry called. It was Remus.
"Sorry to disturb you Harry. I was just wondering whether you wanted to go out or something today? You've been inside all holidays and it's not good for you."
"No, I'm fine," Harry replied, staring out the window on the other side of the room.
"Right, well could you come downstairs for a while then? Sirius and I just want to talk to you," Remus said, his voice now tinged with sadness.
"Alright." Harry got up off his bed and walked back down the stairs, closely followed by Remus. "By the way Harry, did you put those towels in the wash?" Remus asked.
"Oh. Yeah. I did."
"Why?" Remus asked, slightly confused as to why Harry felt the need to wash twelve hand towels that, to his knowledge, had not even been used.
"They were dirty," Harry replied vaguely. "What did you and Sirius want to talk to me about?" Harry asked, desperately trying to change the topic.
"Nothing important. We just want to check up on you," Remus said quietly, afraid that Harry would get angry or blow something up. Despite being fourteen, almost fifteen, years old, Harry still had little control over his accidental magic. It wasn't so much that he had little control over it, Remus thought, but he didn't seem to try very hard to control it. He had never taught himself to control it like most young witches and wizards do. Dumbledore had also said that it might be because of the sheer amount of raw magical power flowing through Harry's veins, and the fact that he shared many of his emotions with Lord Voldemort. Sirius just said it was because he was Lily's son. Remus thought that Sirius may be onto something there.
Harry didn't get angry or explode anything, much to Remus' relief, but instead quietly followed Remus as he led Harry to the drawing room where Sirius was waiting for both of them.
"Hello Harry," Sirius said brightly as Harry walked into the room, a huge grin on his face.
"It is way too early in the morning to be that happy," grumbled Harry to his childish godfather.
"Harry its midday," Remus pointed out.
"My point exactly," Harry replied dryly. "Now what did you want to talk to me about?"
"How are you Harry?" asked Sirius, the grin sliding off his face, his bright and cheery tone was replaced by one of worry and concern. Harry looked at the both of them, anger bubbling up inside him like molten lava. He was sick of people asking how he was. He was sick of people worrying about him all the time. Sick of people asking if he was okay, when all he really wanted to do was rip the skin off his face and forget everything about himself.
"I'm fine," Harry answered in a voice of forced calm. Anyone who didn't know Harry as well as Remus and Sirius would not have recognized the sadness in his eyes and the slightly too cheery voice that meant that Harry was lying.
"No you're not, Harry. Please don't insult out intelligence. We're not stupid, and we can tell that you are lying," Remus said in a very tired voice. Harry began fiddling with his jacket sleeve. Sirius seemed not to notice this, but the small movement attracted Remus' eyes immediately. 'No, it's impossible,' Remus thought to himself. The idea that Harry might be harming himself was preposterous. Remus shook his head slightly to clear it. Harry continued to fiddle with the left sleeve of his black jacket.
"Harry, please just answer our question," Sirius pleaded. Harry looked at them both, forcing the anger back down. They were only asking because they cared about him, and were worried about him. The thought that they actually cared about him almost made Harry want to tell them he was not okay. Tell them that he was sick of living, and being the Boy-Who-Lived. But he couldn't. It wouldn't achieve anything and it would just make them more worried.
Harry's jacket, which was of course about four sizes too big as it had belonged to Dudley, started to slip down and the sleeves covered his hand. Harry absentmindedly shook the sleeves back to free his hands. Something on Harry's wrist caught Remus' eyes, and he reached out and grabbed the teen's wrist tightly in his grasp.
"Remus, what's wrong?" asked Sirius confused. Harry sat there with wide, terrified eyes as the werewolf pulled the sleeves of both his jacket and shirt up to just above his elbow.
A/N: Sorry, I know it ended on a bit of a cliffhanger, but I just couldn't help myself. I don't know why they're so fun to write, especially when they're very annoying to readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next one should be up within the next week, probably a little less than a week. Please leave a review and tell me what you though! Milo.
