Warnings: Angst. Character Death/s. Mentions of Abuse. Implied Depression.
Crying
Crying...
It was a foreign concept to a certain Harry Potter.
He hasn't cried for years, not since he was five and was brutally awakened to the harshness of reality at such a young age. That time, he realized that crying would not help him during the times when his uncle would beat the 'freakishness' out of him or shield him from the insults his aunt throws at him. He knew that crying would do nothing to help him in such situations.
No. If he wanted to help himself, he had to stop crying and start fighting.
Ever since then, that became his response to anything that came his way. To fight.
When Voldemort decided to give him a visit in his first year and attempted to take his life as well as use him as a means to get the sorcerer's, he did not cry. He fought. He fought for his life, for his friends, for Hogwarts.
When the Chamber of Secrets was opened and he was accused of being the heir, he did not cry. Not even when the people whom he thought were his friends, his own housemates, turned their backs on him on a second's notice. He fought. He fought for Ginny, for the people who were fickle enough to betray him just because he just so happens to know how to talk to a snake.
When an old 'friend' of his father was out get him. He did not cry. He fought. He fought for his friends, for his wrongly accused godfather.
When he was forced to join the Triwizard Tournament against his will. He did not cry when even his best mate turned his back against him. He fought. He fought for Cedric, for his parents, for his life.
Even after all the horrors he had seen, he had experienced, he had lived through, Harry James Potter did not cry.
...But now...
Now that Sirius died, the person who was the first to offer him a home, safety, and a family that he had always wanted. Now that his beloved godfather died, he decided that after all these years, Harry James Potter deserved to cry.
...And so he did.