Rage and Mystification
Author's Note I do not own the characters, they belong to J. K. Rowling. Please Read and Review -- whether good or bad- so I know where I stand. Also, this is one of my first fan fictions ever so, just know that I am still very new at this and that I am not one of the greatest authors in the world.
Disclaimer I don't own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter characters. I just like to have my own twisted ways with them. : )
Rated NC-17 for violence, language, many depressing things, imagery and graphic detail, and so on
Summary Harry's 6th year. The wizarding world turns its back on Harry, so Harry decides to turn his back, too. Harry becomes depressed and suicidal. Well, until a certain Gryffindor girl comes along and gives him a reason to keep fighting, to keep living. HP/HG. Also, this story is in no way meant to be cute, comforting, and happy. This story is meant to be a little depressing, dark, and something down right nasty.
Also, bqbqbqbqbqbq means a break.
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Chapter One
Depression
A single nightmare of a single moment that will stay in a young boy's memory forever. A single nightmare had woken him up. A single tear rolled down a young boy's face. A single gasp came from a young boy. A single shudder went down the young boy's spine. A single strand of raven hair fell in front of a young boy's emerald green eyes. A single feeling was in a young boy's heart, guilt. A single thought went though the boy's mind; it's my fault.
A young boy was sitting on his bed looking out the window wishing that he could become someone else, anyone else. The young boy was wishing that this life was not his own and that he lived a happy life where no one felt pain and no one died. But, the young boy knew no matter how hard he may wish, that his wish would never come true. The young boy was wishing that someone would appear and take him away. Far away, away from all of the pain that had been claiming him and away from all of the pain that caused him to feel like he was losing his mind.
He continued to stare up through the window at the twinkling stars. Couldn't see the stars that well considering that his glass were not resting on his face but on his nightstand beside his bed. The young boy reached his hand out and grasped his glass and gently laid them upon his pale face.
As he looked at the stars, he felt trapped. He felt like he was stuck behind the glass window. He felt like he was drowning in a pool of darkness and couldn't seem up come back up to the surface for air. He felt like the entire world was closing in on him. He felt like everyone blamed him and in a sense, he couldn't blame them either. He felt like his whole life meant absolutely nothing.
The young boy got off of his bed and started to pace around the small room. He wanted to leave, but he had nowhere to go; besides he knew that he had to stay there at least for one more week. Then he would be able to escape, he could leave; he could go to his friend's house for the rest of the summer.
The young boy sat back down on his bed. He raised his hands up to his face, to cover the tears that were now streaming down his face. He took in a sharp gasp as he started down the same road he had been on before. He started to let the memories take over his small yet strong body. His mind started to wander towards the memories of what had happened just months before at Hogwarts.
He could remember being foolish and going to the ministry and trying to save Sirius. In the end, all he ended up doing was having Sirius killed. He could remember the look on his godfather's face as he fell behind the veil. He could remember Bellatrix Lestrange's scream. He could remember Lupin holding him in his arms. He could remember Lupin's voice telling him that he was gone, that there was nothing that they could do. The boy's body started to shake as he took in another deep gasp.
Why had this all happen to him? Why did he have to feel so much pain? Why did his parents have to die? Why did all of his friends and loved ones have to suffer because of him? Why did Voldemort choose him over Neville? Why did his godfather have to die? Why does everyone always doubt him about everything? Why did he have to be the saviour? Why did he have to be the boy who lived? Why did they have to die? Why does everyone have to die? Why can't anyone love him? Why does everyone think that it's his fault Voldemort is back? Why does everyone have to blame him? Why can't he just be someone else? Why does he have to feel all of the pain? Why does the pain make him want to end his life? Why can't anything ever make him happy anymore? Just why?
"WHY!?!" The young boy yelled out to no one in particular. "WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU!?!? Why does it all happen to me? Why can't you just fucking leave me alone. WHY!?! Is this your idea of a sick joke or something? Do you like watching me suffer?" He didn't understand why. He never understood why. He probably will never find the real reason why. All he wanted was just to know why, that's it; he wanted to know why.
The young boy's sadness soon turned to rage. He hated Voldemort for what all he had done to Harry's life. But he hated himself even more. The young boy truly believed that it was his fault that so many people had died. They all died trying to make sure I lived. Why can't you people just let me die!! I want to die, I wanna die; I don't want to be here anymore. I hate it here; all I ever feel is pain. I need to find an escape; I need to find away to just forget all of the pain. There's nothing here for me; so just let me leave.
The boy stood up and started to pace around the room once again. He wanted to hit something or to rip something apart; but there was nothing in his room for him to destroy. He sat down in the middle of his floor, pulled his knees up to his chin, covered his face, and let the angry tears flood down his cheeks.
Sirius. Can you hear me!?! I hate you! I hate you for dieing on me! I loved you! You were the only adult I knew that I could count on! Why did you fucking leave me like this? I wasn't ready for you to die! My mum and dad already died! Why did you have to die too? Why did you have to leave me? Didn't you love me? Didn't you care about me?
I really need you right now, Sirius. I miss you. I know this is lame, but it's not fair that you had to die! Everyone keeps telling me that it's not my fault, but I know it is. I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry I let everyone down. I'm so sorry I failed you. I'm sorry that I caused you to die.
If I could, I would go back and make sure that you lived. I just wish I could see you once again. I wish that I could just see you smile once more. I just wish that I could be with you for one more day. I wish I could have told you how much you meant to me and how much I loved you. I wish that you were here right now, I feel so empty without you in my life. It's not fair that you had to die! It's not fair because I never had anybody before you, and now you're gone too. I just wish that I could have said goodbye. Just so I could have an ending. It's too late now, because you've already left me. You fucking left me here Sirius! It's not fair… I'm the one that wanted to die…I didn't want you to die!
The young boy's body began to shake uncontrollably as he began to cry even harder. He tried to suppress his crying, for he didn't want to wake up the Dursleys. The young boy bit down on his lip to keep himself from gasping out. All he managed to do was to bite down too hard and give himself a bloody lip.
He didn't care because he was just trying to keep himself from crying again. He hated crying, even though he cried a lot lately. Crying made him feel weak, it made him feel like he has no control over his life, it made him feel like he was undeserving of life. Even though he hated all of those things, he still couldn't keep himself from crying over his dead godfather.
Without Sirius, the young boy felt completely alone in the world. Even though he had his two best friends in the world Ron and Hermione, the young boy still felt alone. He knew that he could tell his friends anything and that they would try to help him, they would try to understand him, and try and work around whatever problem it was. But the young boy didn't think they would be able to understand what was going through his mind. He didn't think that they would understand what kind of depression he was going through; even if they try to understand him they never would be able to relate.
The young raven-haired boy didn't want to be trapped in his room anymore; he didn't want to be trapped in thoughts of his godfather. He didn't want to be in there anymore; he needed out and he needed out now. The boy slowly opened his door; for he didn't want to wake his aunt or uncle. He didn't want any more trouble than what he has already caused. The boy walked down the hall and went into the bathroom. He closed and locked the door, that way if one of the Dursleys did wake up the couldn't bother him. He turned the faucet on, cupped some water in his hands, and splashed it on his face.
He looked up at the mirror above the bathroom sink. The young boy looked into the mirror and saw himself. Even though he was looking at himself he knew that he no longer looked like the same old him. The young boy's bright green eyes were red and puffy and the colour was dull from the crying, his lips looked red and swollen, and he looked even paler and sickly than he normally did. He stared at his pale and sickly reflection for quite some time. Before letting memories of many people telling him the same thing over and over cross his mind, "You look just like James, expect you have your mother's eyes."
He remembered one person who told him the most about his parents. The one person who knew his parents best. The one person whom he trusted more than anybody else in the world. The young boy still wasn't comfortable about thinking, talking or anything about his godfather. "Merlin…SIRIUS!!!! I miss you."
The young boy let out a strangled cry. More tears began to make their marks down his cheeks. His breathing began to come in ragged pants. He didn't know what to do his body was begging to grow dizzy. Harry placed his hands on the bathroom counter top for support. He looked into the mirror once again. The young boy's thoughts began to swirl around him as his mind began to get lost inside of all of his memories.
I'm sorry I was ever born. I'm sorry that you were made my godfather. I'm sorry that it's my fault your best friend had to die. I'm sorry that it's my fault that you were put in Azkaban. I'm sorry that everyone that it was your fault, when it was really mine. I'm sorry that people made you into a bad guy. I'm sorry that I thought you were the reason my parents are dead. I'm sorry that I made everyone in the Wizarding world hate you. I'm sorry for all of the shit that I have put you through. I'm sorry that you ever had to meet me. I'm sorry that you ever thought I was a good kid. I'm sorry that you ever thought that I could be a decent person. I'm sorry that you loved me.
I'm sorry that you got stuck in the black house for a year. I'm sorry that when you did go outside you had to be a dog. I'm sorry that I literally caused your life to be a hell hole. I'm sorry that I made you relive memories that you wished that you could have forgot. I'm sorry that no matter what I did, I messed your life up even more. I'm sorry that I didn't listen to what you, Dumbledore, and Snape had to say. I'm sorry that you stayed up worried about me. I'm sorry that I ever wasted your time with my foolish boyhood problems. I'm sorry that we didn't have a better relationship.
I'm sorry for all of the pain I have caused you. I'm sorry for all of the shame that I have brought upon your name. I'm sorry that I caused you to disgrace the Black family name. I'm sorry that I'm the reason why you had to go into hiding. I'm sorry that I'm the reason why you lost all of your friends.
I'm sorry for making you come to the ministry. I'm sorry that you thought it was your duty to save my sorry arse. I'm sorry that you died because of my stupidity. I'm sorry because I let myself love you and care for you. I'm sorry that you loved me more than anyone else I know. Sirius I love you, and I need you, I miss you, but I can't have you in my life anymore. Most of all Sirius, I'm sorry that you ever met me, that you let yourself care for me, when in return I just let you die.
Sirius I know I have done nothing but caused you pain and I'm truly sorry. I don't mean be such a problem to people, I don't mean to cause so much trouble; it's just that bad things always seem to follow me wherever I go. Well, mainly just Voldemort follows me wherever I go. Sirius I just wish, that you could come back to me just for one day. Just so I could tell you all of this, so I could have my good-bye, just so I could see you again.
I know that you loved me and I love you too. I know that I may not be the best person in the world, but you always made me feel like I could be the best in the world if I tried. I know that you'll never come back and I know that I'll never really have my goodbye. I know this is late, but good-bye Sirius.
The young boy's hands slipped off of the bathroom counter. He became so dizzy. He felt like he was just going to fall straight over. The young boy sank down into the floor of the bathroom like a puddle of water. Tears were matted all over his face, his eyes were red and puffy, and he was shaking from the sharp gasps of air he was taking. He lay their for a while, trying to get the thoughts out of his mind. He didn't want to cry anymore; he had had enough of crying for one night. He sat up with his back against the bathroom door trying to will his brain back to normal functioning again.
It didn't matter how hard he tried; the pain of it all just didn't seem to go away. He needed it to go away. The young boy wanted an escape. As he sat there in the bathroom floor trying to come up with a way to get rid of the pain, something caught his eye. He picked himself off of the ground and walked over to the object. There it was sitting there in the open medicine cabinet. It was just so beautiful, the way that it seemed to gleam in the light. The young boy eyed it lustfully before picking it up and running his fingers over the smooth yet sharp edges.
The boy looked at the item. He raised the sleeve of his left arm up to his shoulder. He put the object on the underside of his left arm. It felt cold against his skin, but he wanted to forget about the pain. He brought the object down his arm; causing his skin to rip open and blood begin to gush out of the open wound. Pain tore through the young boy's mind as his uncle's razor ripped through his skin. The young boy wanted to scream out in pain, but as the burning sensation from his arm flooded his mind, he forgot about all of his other problems and all of the pain.
Cutting his skin open caused him to realize that he was alive. It helped him know that this wasn't some kind of bad dream. Watching the blood run down his arm gave him an odd sort of feeling. The boy lifted the razor back up to his arm and began to cut himself again and again. He gasp out with each cut. He felt like he was in ecstasy.
As the blood started to trickle down his arm, the boy felt like he had a new control over his life and nobody even had to know that he was doing it. He could easily hide it; he could even hide it with a muggle tee shirt. Little did this boy know that what he had just done would cause him a whole new world of problems. The great, wonderful, strong, and famous Harry Potter had just cut himself, had ripped his skin apart; because he felt weak.
To Be Continued…
Author's Note : I am going to try and update this story every Saturday, if possibly. Anyway, I will see you all next chapter.