One week (HP)(COMPLETED)

Sunday

Tw: suicidal idealization

He had a choice. To live or die.

It should be obvious, right? He needed to save everyone, he needed to uphold his title as the saviour of the wizarding world! He needed to fufill his stupid Gryffiindor hero complex. He needed to protect his friends, he needed to grow closer to them, and Snape, he supposed. His life was full of things he needed to do! A whole ass future ahead of him! It should be obvious.

And yet...

And yet it wasn't. Harry had put an exhausting amount of effort in his work over the week, would it not be such a shame to waste it? But. But Harry was so tired. He'd gone through so much- from his muggle relatives, to the bullying from his peers, to Ron leaving him. He was tired. So tired. And he had an easy way out, didn't he? No one could stop him. He could choose not to drink the potions, to not cast the spells. And if anyone tried to do it for him, it would still fail because it had to be done by Harry. It was so easy.

Harry never really considered himself depressed or suicidal, but something in him had snapped this last week. He was tired of doing things because he had to. He worked his ass off because he had to. He did chores at the Dursely's because he had to. He did everything because of reasons he couldn't control.

Well, he could control this, couldn't he?

But maybe, maybe things would get better. Things had changed, hadn't they? Draco, oh how it felt so weird to think his first name and not his last, was his friend now and Snape didn't dispise him to his core anymore. That was a good sign, right? Some good reasons to stay, right?

But, god dammit. He wanted his parents.

It had been so long since he'd had thoughts like that- he tended to dismiss his yearning for his dead parents as childish. But if there was ever a time to be childish, it was then. He wanted to die and see Lily and James, to be held by people who loved him unconditionally. Wouldn't that just be wonderful? He wouldn't have to deal with the stress of being the Golden Boy and he'd be with his family. A win-win, really.

He was an orphan. And it fucking sucked. He just wanted a parental figure. He wanted someone. It'd be a great reason to stay, if he had someone like that. But no. There was no knight in shinning armor coming to adopt him, to save him from his relatives and give him the childhood he'd always wanted. Life didn't work that way. Life wasn't fair.

"Harry?" Ginny, who had entered the library without him knowing, shook Harry from his thoughts. He collected himself, running a hand through his unmanageable hair.

"What is it?" He tried to keep his voice gentle, but it came out strained. A guilty expression washed over her face. Harry immediately felt awful.

"You should eat breakfast with everyone in the Great Hall," she tried for a smile, "Today's the big day, after all. Nothing more refreshing than a nourishing meal with company."

Harry almost groaned at the mention of his upcoming tasks. He didn't know if he even wanted to do them, really, and thinking about it wasn't doing him any good. He was just stressed. Maybe breakfast would help, but he thought of Ron and Hermione who would surely be in there too... "No, thanks," he faked a smile, "I'm good. I'm not that hungry anyway." A lie. But he didn't want to even risk confronting those two. He'd go hungry, just for meal. Or he'd get a house elf to bring it to him.

Ginny sighed. He pulled out the chair that was accross from. Harry's and sat down. "I get it," she spoke softly, "why you don't wanna be near him. Especially with all the rumors he's spreading-"

"Rumors?" Harry's eyes almost buldged out of their sockets. His hands, previously lax, were now locked into fists, his nails making purple marks on his palms. Oh, that brat knew just how to get under his skin, didn't he! Harry had vented to him before about how much he hated how everyone talked about him behind his back. Ron used to give him comfort, albiet half assed. But now?

You have become the very thing you sought to destory, he thought madly.

"Yeah," Ginny chewed on the inside of her mouth anxiously, "He said that you're saying Malfoy and chested on him with Hermione." Hermione? I thought she doubted me too, Harry thought, raising an eyebrow at the red head across from him. She sputtered, "She's- she's planning to apologise. Hermione is. After dinner. Ron, when he heard..." she sighed again, "He didn't take it well."

Harry absorbed this information as the pair sat in awkward silence. Ginny stood from her chair, "I'll grab you some breakfast. Be back in a bit." And with that he was alone again, left to think about whether or not he was to let himself die. He placed his head on the table with an exhausted groan. What an exhausting concept to consider.

He heard the sound of an owl fluttering, without grace, into the library and then leaving. Not before dropping off a letter, placing it directly on Harry's downward head. He grabbed it, raising his head in intrigue. It was from the Wealsy twins, it seemed. They spoke in parts, though it was nearly impossible to tell who's handwriting was who's.

Dear Harry,

We heard about what Ron did

Who hasn't, really?

And since he's a git we've made some plans

Don't be late to supper on Monday.

Things are about to get

that much cooler.

- gred and feorge

Harry ran his fingers over the ink, almost as if needing to confirm it was real. Monday, they had said. They believed he'd survive to Monday! They're.. on his side. The thought almost brought tears to his eyes. Oh, how wonderous, how purpose giving was it to he believed. How wonderful was it to know more people would be refuting the rumors!

He then knew. He would he there on Monday's dinner, and many dinners after that. He'd be okay.

Ginny returned, placing down the food she'd brought up- a plate of eggs and french toast. "Dumbledore said you should get it over with sometime after breakfast," her eyes narrowed at him, "You better not've overlooked anything! You better live."

"Don't worry," he said, truthfully, "I will."

fin-