"talking"

'thinking'

time change, character change

The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon

Chp 2-Suicide Letters

(Harry's POV)

Harry blinked rapidly, but all he saw was darkness. 'What's going on?' It all came back to him in a rush. He sat up and tried to move, searching with his fingers for his wand. He was still in the car and all his belongings were gone, including his wand.

'And why is it so damned dark!?' He thought heatedly, feeling his face. 'Oh...' He was wearing a blindfold, and it was tied tightly around his head. He groaned. Now he would really pay for his actions. At least for the next three days. 'Why can't anything ever go easily?' Suddenly he heard footsteps, and he knew Uncle Vernon was coming to get him. 'I'd better try and do what he wants... for now'.

Suddenly the car door flew open and Harry was dragged to his feet. His hands were quickly tied behind his back and he was lifted over his Uncle's shoulder and carried into the house.

"Now listen closely boy, we have your stick and other things locked up somewhere safe, and if you struggle, disobey, or even try to get your things, you will be hurt. You will be knocked out and I will drive halfway to London and toss you into the street without your things. Got it?"

Harry nodded meekly. "Yes, sir."

"Good."

Vernon dragged Harry upstairs into his room, where he untied the boy and removed his blind fold before slamming the door and locking it. Harry looked around and, to his horror, saw bars on the window, and a food slot in the door like before.

"What about the others? They'll be expecting me to write to them." He stated matter of factly, trying desperately to maintain his composure.

"And you will. I will stand behind you and see to it that you write, otherwise I will snap that stick of yours in two, and I'll toss your trunk in the ocean. Understood?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."



"Good." Harry groaned as he heard his Uncle walk away.

'I'm in trouble now...'

With that thought he climbed into bed, but how could he sleep?

'And I thought this summer was going to be better…so much for that. Sirius is gone because of me, and now I've managed to get cut off again…and I've no way to tell anyone…shit. This is bad…but, maybe someone will notice. I'll have to try to drop hints in my letters…'

Two Months Later

As the last two months had passed, Harry had been fed once a day, and beaten nearly as often. He had a broken arm, and it was sort of greenish, but the Dursleys refused to take him to a muggle hospital. His nose was also broken, as were a few of his ribs, and he was missing his left ring finger. He was forced to write happy letters to everyone, and did so under threat of an even more severe beating.

'What should I do? I just want to die, to join Sirius wherever he may be. Death couldn't be that bad... could it? I wouldn't have to worry about Voldemort, or putting my friends in danger. Hell, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would be quite pleased. As would Malfoy. And if I were to die... I might get to see my Mum and Dad!' He thought excitedly. 'There's got to be a way... I can't very well announce to Voldemort that I'm here... not without my wand... Oh! I'll have to write letters to Ron, Hermione, and of course Dumbledore. I mean, that stupid prophecy said I was dead anyway right? Why not die without leading more friends in danger? And why should I keep Sirius and my Parents waiting? If only I had my quill... A pen and paper always work...AHA!' he jumped up, spotting the utensils he needed. 'I can't believe they haven't come yet. Every day I pray to be rescued, and every day things get worse. The hints I've dropped are obvious, and they know I've never been this "happy" with my relatives before. Maybe they'll understand…I have to make them see…it's not that I'm dark, it's not that I want to leave the world at Voldemort's mercy.It's just…I'm 15. How can they expect me to save them, when I can't even savew myself?I'll make them understand, they're my friends, my family. They'll forgive me.' And with that thought Harry began his letters.

Dear Hermione,

I'm really sorry about this. If you are reading this, I am most likely dead. I have decided that life without Sirius just isn't worth living, especially since I am to be killed by Voldemort, or kill him myself, which I don't see happening. I am dreadfully sorry; you and Ron are my best of friends. You especially have always been close to me, but I know one day you and Ron will get together, and where would I be then? You see, something bad has happened and I'm ready to die now. It's not that I've gone dark and want Voldemort to win or anything, I just…can't handle it anymore. How can I save the world when I can't even save myself?Please trust me, and forgive me one day. I love you Hermione, and I always will. You're like the sister I never had. By ending my life now, I've saved you and Ron from being on the front lines. As students you'll have the same protections as anyone else, and when Voldemort is killed, for I know he will be, you'll be safe. I can almost see Sirius and my Mum and Dad waving at me. They're waiting for me 'mione. Please try to understand, there is nothing you or anyone else could've done to stop me, so don't feel guilty. I'm leaving my money to you and Ron, and I trust you to split it evenly. My invisibility cloak is for you, and Ron can have my firebolt. Remember, this is not your fault. Love you always and hope to see you again someday, though preferably later than sooner,

Harry James Potter

'Well, that looks okay...' He thought, sealing the first one. Now for Ron, then Dumbledore.

Dear Ron,

I am truly sorry for doing this to you and Hermione, but it is time for me to leave this world. I have decided that I'm sick of everyone else manipulating me and using me for their own benefit. I have decided to take my life into my own hands, by ending it. Read Hermione's letter for all the details. I am entrusting you with my Firebolt, please take care of it. This isn't your fault, you've been a great friend and brother, but friendship just isn't enough to get me through this. Please, try and forgive me, and I know you have a crush on 'mione, so try comforting her. You two will need each other a lot more when I'm gone. You'll bemuch safer without me around to drag you into trouble, so try to keep it that way, kay? Brothers past even death,

Harry James Potter

Now on to the Headmaster...

Dear Dumbledore,

I must regretfully inform you that I have finally decided to take the coward's way out. I am taking my life into my own hands, and ending it now. We both know Voldemort's going to kill me anyways, and I'd rather be with my Mum and Dad sooner than later. Please understand that the grief I bare, topped with the way things are going here, is just too much for me to handle. I have not the bravery of a true Gryffindor. It's not that I've gone dark and want Voldemort to win or anything, I just…can't handle it anymore. How can I save the world when I can't even save myself? It is not your fault that I am doing this, and it is not because of the prophecy alone. It is a combination of Sirius's death, The Prophecy, My guardian's current behavior, and the fact that I have no way to relieve my pain. Normally I would use magic, but seeing as that is not allowed I can't. And I'm not sure even that would help, it feels as if the very air I breathe is poisonous, and all I want is to finally end it. Please understand Headmaster, I am not who everyone thinks I am. I am not The-Boy-Who-Lived, Savior of the wizarding world. I am Harry Potter, the 15-year-old who couldn't bear the grief of the last 5 years. Most people, if forced to do all that I've done, would have taken the easy way out long ago. I am sorry to disappoint you sir, but I do not wish to be a pawn in this game we play with Voldemort. I will not sit around here and wait for him to kill me as he did my parents, I cannot wait that long. Please try to understand, I am human, just like everyone else, and prophecy or not I simply can't handle all that's happened. I am sick of being known only by my scar, and not for whom I truly am. I see people on the streets and they call out to me, adoration written in their eyes. They believe that I am to be their savior, their hero. But they don't know me. Sometimes all I want is to be known. Not for my scar, but for me, the way I act and feel. People don't care about that. They don't care what thoughts run through my head. They don't even know that my godfather died for our cause. Until recently he was forced to hide because they believed him to be evil. Will I one day be forced to hide because I don't kill Voldemort? If I do not fulfill their stupid prophecy, then will the very people who adore me come to hate me? They don't even know who I am! I am just like them! I am just a grief-ridden teenage boy, just like anyone else! I have no great powers, no bravery, and no secret way to kill Voldemort. All I have are my friends, seeing as that my family is gone. And I will put my friends in danger no longer. Perhaps it is the coward's way out, but I am dying on the inside a little more each day, and I can bare this pain no longer. I truly am sorry to have disappointed you; you were like a grandfather to me.

Sincerely and always,

Harry James Potter

'Maybe not true, but he doesn't need to know that. Manipulative bastard that he is. If he knew how I really feel, about him, the war, and everything, he'd probably use it to find me an excuse for more training for the defeat of Voldemort. Ugh.' he thought as he sealed them too. 'Now how am I supposed to send them?' He wondered, looking for a way to pick the lock. Then he saw her. Hedwig was in his room, seeing as that he had to mail letters to Tonks and the rest of the Order.

"Here Hedwig. I want you to take these to Hermione, Ron, and Dumbledore. It's important, and I'm sorry, and I love you." Harry said, petting her gently on the head. She just looked at him, as if to say 'And I get out of this room how?'

"Oh! That's easy! I'll just... pry off... these bars." he said pulling with all his might. It didn't work.

"Fine then, I'll cut a hole in the Ra damned ceiling!" he shouted, climbing on a chair and attempting to smash the roof with his fists. He continued at it until his hands were bloody, not even noticing the searing pain from his injuries, or the way that his broken leg didn't give out. It wasn't until Hedwig bit his ear hard enough to draw blood that he realized he was trembling and the world seemed to be spinning.

"Alright, then what do you suggest I do?" He raised an eyebrow at the Owl. She just hooted.

"Fine. Encarpay!" Harry shouted at the ceiling, pointing his finger like a wand.

He didn't expect anything to happen, but was surprised when a nice round hole appeared in the ceiling. He was suddenly shocked, but then, he guessed it was his emergency situation. Perhaps sensing his desperation, he had performed the accidental magic of his childhood. Either way he sent Hedwig off on her journey.

Now all he needed was a knife. He looked around Dudley's old room, and soon enough found what he was looking for. But before he could do anything Vernon came in with Hedwig in his hands. He stuffed her and her letters into the cage and stood over the boy glowering menacingly.

"So, tried to call for help huh? Well, Now you'll pay!" He thundered.

Harry obeyed his instincts and curled up as much as he could before Vernon managed to get his fingers around Harry's throat, throttling the child. Then Harry couldn't breath. He struggled at first, until he realized that this was what he wanted. When he felt like he was about to pass out, he was thrown to the floor gasping for breath.

He felt a big heavy foot collide with his ribs, re-breaking the healed ones and pushing one of the broken ones out through Harry's back. The child screamed and a large meaty hand lift him up by his hair. That hand was all that kept Harry standing as he felt a fist break his cheekbone, then his jaw. The fists went everywhere, and no matter what Harry did he couldn't stop them. Soon he was seeing black and grey, and it was then that he was tossed to the floor like a rag-doll.

Vernon came back a few minutes later with a studded belt, in which he had added broken pieces of glass and rusty nails. He proceeded to whip Harry's already open back and legs with it, and the boy felt great chunks of flesh tear off as he gave in to the pain, screaming in pure unadulterated agony. Vernon had done this before, but the nails and glass were new, normally it only had the sharp metal spikes. Harry's vision flashed red, and he knew it was from the blood that ran from his head down into his eyes.

Then Uncle Vernon kicked him in the ribs, flipping Harry over with his foot and lashing his nephew's chest with the whip-like belt. Fire laced Harry's veins, and he knew that if Vernon did not stop soon, and maybe even if he did, Harry would get his wish.

"That ought to teach you to disobey me! Remember this lesson well boy, and don't try any funny business again!" Vernon yelled, slamming and re-locking the door.

Harry saw only grey, and then blurry images as he realized his vision was going out. He just lay there, unable to move, and when he coughed a large amount of blood appeared on the carpet. He knew that if I was to black out now, he wouldn't wake up. And though he'd decided he was ready to die, he wanted to do it on his own terms, not anyone else's. So he struggled to a sitting position, and picked up the knife from where he'd dropped it. Harry gave a final smile as he defiantly slashed his wrist, watching in muted fascination as the blood gushed down his arm. Then, as the first wave of nauseating pain hit, he slashed the other wrist.

'There. It's done. I'm coming Sirius...' He smiled contentedly, not hearing the horrified screech that came from below.

So what do you think? Please R&R, and lemme know what you think!

Lunadia