Disclaimer: Once again only the plot is mine. And boy is it a used one. But oh well it is mine now. The characters belong solely to J. K. Rowling and the song belongs to Nickelback.

A/N: Draco will be introduced in the next chapter!

My Thanks to:

Fox Loves Shinigami

Konohashinobi0

For actually taking the time to review my fic. Your opinion is much appreciated so people don't ever be afraid to comment on something! I simply ask for no flames. There's a difference between criticism and just being an ass.

Title: Too Many Scars

The second he woke up Harry knew where he was. Only the Hospital Wing had such a scent. Sterile but warm, almost no smell at all but still no other aroma could smell as comforting. He heaved a great sigh of frustration. He wasn't dead. He had, once again, failed. He could practically feel the depression, that had taken over his once jovial life, deepen. Why? Why couldn't they just let him go? Why did they have to torture him so by making him stay alive in his miserable existence? Damn it! Don't they get it? Don't they see that I just want to die?! Though he admitted that he wanted someone to save him, he hadn't actually wanted them to succeed. Harry had just wanted to know that someone cared enough about his life—hell his mission even!—try and save him.

That's when he realized Madam Pomfrey had yet to descend upon him. Maybe he had time. Maybe just maybe he could still go through with his plan. The moment the idea popped into his head he scrambled to get out of the hospital bed. Struggling with the sheets, they seemed determined to hold him in place, he didn't even notice when Severus walked up to his bed.

"Potter. What are you doing?" the snarky voice pushed through the haze of temporary joy surrounding Harry's mind.

"Uhh um..erm..Well.." was the clever reply Harry gave back. Of course I'll have guards. I'll probably be on suicide watch for the next month! Double damn!

"Very intelligent Mr. Potter. Now in English please?" The obviously amused Professors voice asked.

"Just trying to go to the bathroom, sir. That's all." Harry's mind quickly came up with a suitable lie for him virtually tearing the bed sheets to shreds in his strive for freedom. He had noticed that after all his time with the Dursleys he had become an expert on finding quick easy lies. Vaguely he wondered if that was his Slytherin side coming to light.

"As much as I highly doubt that, the bathroom is right this way," was the sarcastic respond.

"You're…You're going to go with me?" asked Harry, hating how his voice ever so slightly squeaked, betraying how much he disliked the idea.

"Seeing as how in the past 24 hours you tried to commit suicide, then yes, I am going to follow you to the bathroom. Then I will place a monitoring charm on you so I may know if you wish to try again. Now if you please," said Snape as he pointed toward the bathroom door. Harry sighed and made his way to it.

Snape stopped him before he could go in, keeping good on his word he placed a monitoring charm on Harry. Glowering, Harry pushed open the door and slammed it shut.

Little did he know that it wasn't just a monitoring charm. It actually let Severus feel what Harry is feeling. And the instant he placed it, Severus was glad Harry slammed the door. Severus actually staggered from the weight of the emotions. They were…devastating. Is this really how he feels? Merlin what did you do to him Albus? My Slytherins don't even feel such despair. Thoughts raced through Severus' mind as to how the Gryffindor Golden Boy would feel so…so hopeless. Something just didn't add up. That's when he felt the emotions dip even more, if possible. He threw open the door standing between him and Ha-Potter. Wondering what on earth could cause such emotions plunge further. Only to see Harry standing in front of the mirror, staring at himself. Harry jumped at Snapes' unexpected entrance but quickly saved face as he snarled "What? Can't I get at least a little bit of peace?"

"I..apologize, for startling you. My charm informed me that your emotions were leaning more toward suicidal feelings."

"Yeah well seeing, never mind. Just get out" Harry growled back.

Snape grumbled somewhat at being yelled at but complied with Harry's—Potter's! his mind screamed—wishes.

"Very well. Be out in ten minutes so Pomfrey can examine you."

"Fine"

Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm fallin'
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'
And all I need from you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

Harry couldn't believe it when Snape actually burst through the door to make sure he, Harry Potter—The Boy Who Wouldn't Just Freaking Die Already, Bane of every Slytherins existence, and number one on Voldemort's and Fudge's list—was okay. It had been…startling to say the least. I can't think like this. He'll let me down just like everyone else. He doesn't really care. Dumbledore probably had to blackmail him into being my babysitter.

And so Harry continued what he had been doing before the interruption, deciding just who he saw in the mirror. He couldn't even understand how the face reflected could possibly be his. It was gaunt, with sunken in eyes and deep purple bruising beneath them. His lips seemed thinner than he remembered and torn. He had chewed on them multiple times when he was nervous but the bottom lip was now bloodied as it had never been before. In the back of Harry's mind he wondered when he bit it hard enough for it to bleed. Could it have been when he made the slice? He just didn't know. Slowly he ran his tongue over it, just to feel the pain. And for a second everything faded away. His worries dropped from his shoulders and he felt free. Just like he had when he made the decision that suicide would be best. God I miss this. I need…I need to get a new knife. I—I still have some empty space on my thighs. No one would see them there. Sadly the pain faded as his lip became used to the abuse and Harry sighed. He should probably go and face the music. And so with one last glance in the mirror, he left.

Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me

Severus couldn't even begin to comprehend the emotions pouring from beyond the door leading to Potter. Even during his childhood and into his teenage years when his own father beat him, he couldn't ever remember feeling such things. They spoke of loneliness the likes of which he had never felt, of depression he hadn't known was possible, and above all of the need to escape. He was empathetic towards the boy, to a point, but he still couldn't believe anything was worth ending your own life over. Severus had killed, raped and maimed, all in the name of a cause he had never believed in, but he still lived through it all and came out stronger. He had never considered suicide to get rid of the demons forever haunting him. No, that was the coward's way out. And if there was one thing Severus Snape had never considered Harry Potter, it was a coward.

Severus sighed, realizing he would likely never completely understand why Potter had tried to put a stop to his life.

An instant later he felt a flash of joy from Harry. In an second he was worried, not that he'd admit it, but he knew from previous experiences with suicidal people that joy was the last thing you want them to feel moments after they realize they're still alive. That usually means that they think they've found a new way to off themselves. But the sensation died and Potter himself came out.

"Sir? Um well what do I do now?" The dullness of Harry's voice nearly made Snape flinch. The sound contained absolutely no joy and seemed to actually take the light of the day and make it seem sinister.

"Go back to your bed Mr. Potter. The Headmaster will be here shortly." Snape said in his most dispassionate voice possible. He didn't want to get tangled in the enigma that is the Boy Who Lived.

Har—Potter damn it—stared at him for a second before asking, "Why is he coming here?" in the same detached tone as Snape.

"To make sure his Golden Boy is okay, of course," he drawled, wondering if maybe the boy had lost too much blood and his brain was now defective. Of course the Headmaster would like to make sure Harry was okay. Why wouldn't he? He noticed how Potter grimaced at the most famed nickname. Curious as to what the hell that was about, he filed it away for later considerations.

"Now if you will…" Snape sneered as he pointed back toward the Infirmary. Harry made his way back with a large bat like shape as his shadow.

God, can't anyone see me as Harry? Harry wondered as Snape called him "The Golden Boy." How he despised that name, and all the others for that matter. It was just another way to call him a tool. A weapon to be used in this war and put away when its uses are through. It made it easier for people to distance themselves from the person and simply make him an icon. You couldn't grieve for someone if you only saw them as a name in the first place.

And as Snape gestured in the direction of the Infirmary, Harry walked back to his bed, with Snape behind him every step of the way. Harry practically snarled at that. It's not like he had anything to kill himself with. And he couldn't summon enough hatred for himself to actually cast the Killing Curse on himself. Distantly Harry wondered if that was achievable. He smirked as the scene played out in his head. Oh it would be so easy. If only he could hate himself. His smirk quickly turned back to its impassive state as he saw Snape staring at him with the intent to pick his mind apart by simply using facial expressions.

"Can I help you, sir?" Harry asked. The staring was getting annoying and he knew the only way to stop it was to subtly let Snape know Harry had caught him.

Snape sneered but retained his silence.

And so with one problem solved, Harry moved back to important matters. Like how to kill himself, under obvious observation and before Dumbledore managed to make his way down here. But, as always, the thought of Dumbledore made Harry's blood boil. The man had brushed Harry aside every time—every fucking time!—that he asked to stay at Hogwarts for the summer. Hell Harry had even said he could work with Hagrid to keep the school ground up. But the outcome was always the same. Dumbledore told him "Now Harry, it can't be that bad. Just try to understand where your relatives are coming from and compromise. Now if you'll excuse me, my boy, I am very busy."

Seeing red, Harry did his best to calm down. And down did he come. Right back into the feelings he had before he left permanent scars on his wrists. Glumly he sat on his hospital bed in his regulatory hospital wing pajamas with Snape as his baby-sitter. He could think of only one thing, it soon became a mantra in his head to keep the time flowing No one cares. No one listens. I hate them all. Fuck my life.

And with that Harry felt his life had even less value than before. To him a piece of dust had more right to be resting on this bed than he did.

Glaring at the ground for no particular reason other than he could, Harry waited.

Hurry I'm fallin'

All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh, I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

A/N: Chapter Two done! Hope you enjoyed it; it had much more meat to it this time. I couldn't seem to stop writing! Well I do so hope you will review!

Harry: I feel…deep, man.

Me: *Sigh* yes I know you actually felt true emotions.

Harry: So when do I get out of the whole "Suicide is the only way to go" thing?

Me: You'll just have to wait like everyone else, Harry. I don't play favorites.

Harry: But it's me!

Me: Hmph!

Haha until next time!