Fooling Others

By BreetanyaViolet

AN: Hi! I really shouldn't be posting this... But I am, after the urging of my best friends and sometimes beta readers and co-authors... Read Bi-Polar if you want humor. This fic is going to be as angsty as I can maintain it. BUT you must have patience with the updates. I shall update on September 6th. No sooner. I have too many obligations to concentrate on this fic alone. I need to keep writing TEOTD and my novel. Which, btw, is horribly behind schedule. Anyway, I don't own HP or the characters.

Chapter 1: He Had to Stop It.

Harry was standing in the boy's bathroom, locked with a simple charm, holding a knife he had stolen from the kitchens at half past midnight.

It had been too much. He had returned to Hogwarts from a summer where he was ignored, not being able to escape the Dursley's that summer. Any owls he had gotten from Hermione and Ron were too vague to offer any comfort leading him to believe they were at Black manor for the summer again, and he had been left to fall deep into depression. He had stopped responding to anything the Dursleys said to him after the first week, and did his homework in silence with only the minimal amount of effort. The only owls he set out were those to Hermione and Ron when they begged for a reply, and to Moody every two days so no one would come and see him when all he wanted was to be alone.

Sirius's death had hit him hard and he hadn't been able to cope once everyone who at least had pretend sympathy was separated from him. He was reminded painfully of Cedric's death, and nightmares concerning the night he got his scar were breaks between Cedric's accusing finger, and Sirius's rage at him.

Harry knew it was his fault that all of those people had died. He was there when it happened. All because Voldemort wanted to kill him, he killed them because they were in the way. And he kept on killing others now that he was alive again. Alive with aid from Harry himself. Harry's blood had allowed Voldemort to rise again, and according to dear old Voldie, it had made him stronger.

Then at the end of the last school year, Voldemort possessed him. Took over his body and used his mouth to taunt Dumbledore. After that, Voldemort had let him see the numerous of deaths he was responsible for over the summer. Just tonight, he had killed a small family of three, with a year-old son. Harry had felt the pleasure Voldemort was feeling knowing that it brought Harry's worse times back into the front of his mind. Knowing it would show Harry how helpless he really was.

Harry couldn't be the one from the prophecy Dumbledore had shown him. If he were, then where those powers that Voldemort did not have? Sure, he was marked, by a scar. What if the mark was by fear? What if Voldemort feared Neville and so convinced himself that Harry was the one that threatened him? Neville was marked, by Voldemort's death eaters. He was marked with clumsiness and little self-confidence from growing up with insane parents he only saw occasionally.

But during the D.A. meetings Harry had discovered that Neville held a great deal of power, and it was only his lack of confidence that held him back. Harry was certain that it was Neville who would defeat Voldemort, not him.

He had only lived because his mother had died for him. And he was left with this curse scar that could endanger anyone near him.

He had to stop it. He was not a benefit to the Light in anyway, and if anything, he was a handicap. It would be best if he stopped it now.

His hand was shaking as he held the knife above his wrist, and with a sudden confidence thrust it down cutting deep into his skin and letting his blood flow out of his wrist.

He took the knife in his other hand and cut his other wrist while the knife was being soaked in his blood running down from his wrist.

He smiled as he slumped to the floor, still conscious, but too dizzy to stay upright. He lay there several minutes before hearing someone trying to get into the bathroom, and then the unlocking charm was used to make the door fly open.

He drifted into unconsciousness as a voice sounding somewhat familiar said, "Shit."

AN: Okay, Please review, tell me what you think of it! I need to know! If I get enough reviews I'll post on September 1st. I know, not that much of a deal, but hey! I have a lot of things to write! Review, complain, flame, I don't care, just push that button and comment on the story!