A/N: Hey all. This is a song fic, and the song featured is Ever and a Day by AFI. Review please!

Warnings – Cutting/self-harm. Might possibly be classified as a tearjerker, but I'm not sure.

Disclaimer – Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. The song is called Ever and a Day and belongs to the ever brilliant AFI

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It was sometime around noon, during the summer. Harry Potter was sitting against the wall of an underground station, watching all the people go by. No one noticed the scrawny, silent boy, and that's the way Harry wanted it. He liked coming here, to be surrounded by all the noise and the hustle and bustle of people trying to get to their jobs or other engagements. Here he was able to be completely anonymous and unknown, and best of all, the noise distracted him. Here he didn't have to think. He just watched the people go by, all the different people, and listened to the occasional snippet of conversation.

Lie in the comfort

Of sweet calamity

With nothing left to loose

As it got later and later Harry eventually had to return to Privet drive. He caught a bus and prepared for a long walk, as there weren't many bus stops close to Privet drive. But Harry would do anything to escape that house.

After being sent to bed with no supper because he was late, Harry lay apathetically on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Here there was nothing to distract him, nothing but the darkness, and the memories consumed him. The guilt and hurt he felt overwhelmed him. He couldn't believe Sirius was gone. He couldn't believe he had been that stupid. He found he couldn't even cry to let the hurt out, his tears had long ago dried up.

Lie in the darkness

I'm slowly drowned to sleep

With nothing left to loose

Three tears I've saved for you

The next day Harry went to the park near Privet Drive and just laid in the grass. The park had fallen into disrepair as no one really used it anymore. The grass was tall and uncut, weeds were everywhere, and the swingset was still broken. A gust of wind blew through the park and the swing stirred, squeaking as it swung back and forth a few inches.

Harry stared up at the cloudy sky and for the millionth time went over the events of that fateful night. He just kept thinking of what he could have done differently, what could have saved Sirius. As he ran over the events again and again the sun moved out from behind the clouds, shining down onto Harry. Harry scowled. The clouds suited his mood much better.

I'd retrace the steps that led me here but nothing lives

Behind me

So I lie in this field bathed in the light that loves me

With nothing left to loose

Three tears I've saved for you

Once again Harry returned to Privet drive after dark, this time he was allowed supper. He went straight to his room afterward and opened his trunk. He took out a small dagger, holding it lightly in the palm of his hand. It had been part of a set, the other half being the knife that could unlock doors, but that knife had been ruined. Sirius had given him these knives.

Harry studied the dagger carefully. It was pure silver and stunningly beautiful. On each side of the handle there was a medium sized black stone surrounded by five blood red rubies. It was simple, yet elegant and beautiful. Harry sighed, turning the dagger over, watching the moonlight glint off the surface of the dagger.

As Harry sat in the dark of his room his guilt once more consumed him. The memories were inescapable. Harry no longer blamed Dumbledore and Snape. Now he blamed himself. Just as he was about to become completely lost in his pit of despair, the dagger slipped from his grasp, slicing through his palm. He gasped as the pain hit him. All his memories and guilt disappeared as his focus turned to the pain and the blood.

Will you be my

Be my beloved

Will you help

Help me to get through

Will you be my

Be my destruction

Will you help

Help me to be through

A few nights later Harry woke up screaming from a nightmare. He quickly became quiet and held his breath, waiting to see if his uncle would come shout at him for waking them up or not. After a few tense moments he sighed with relief as Uncle Vernon was luckily still asleep. But still Harry was scared, was sad. He wanted to cry, to just let all the emotions out, but he couldn't. he couldn't cry, and he couldn't get rid of all the emotion building up.

But then his thoughts turned to the dagger and what had happened the other night. He glanced at his left palm, the one that had been cut, remembering how the pain seemed to have cleared his mind. How it had released his emotions. He had lost the release of crying, of crystalline tears, but why couldn't he still have the release of blood, of his crimson tears?

Getting up Harry opened his trunk and pulled out the silver dagger. Taking a deep breath he placed it against the underside of his left arm. He placed it closer to his elbow than his wrist, not wanting to die just yet. With a sharp gasp he pulled the dagger across his arm, tearing the flesh open and making way for the torrent of crimson liquid. Instantly he felt better. He could fall in love with this feeling of release. It was as if all his problems just washed away in a river of red.

Cleaning the blood off the dagger he placed it back in the trunk then sat against his wall, watching the blood flow out of his arm. He adored the sharp, stinging pain, the contrast of the deep red against his slightly pale skin. He loved the control he had over this, and he loved the rush it gave him. His gaze turned back to the blood slowly seeping out of the wound. As he watched three tears slipped down his cheeks, landing on his arm, swirling with the blood.

Will you be my

Be my beloved

Will you help

Help me to get through

Will you be my

Be my destruction

Will you help…

Three tears I've saved for you