I wrote this story a few months ago in my history class. It's really short, but I was pleased with it.

It's about Harry Potter's SI from the POV of a mystery person... maybe Draco or Snape or someone.

This story does describe cutting as Harry does it, so if this is triggering don't read it.

BTW... I don't own Harry Potter or anybody else in the books... which really sucks....

/

"But I Don't"

Harry doesn't know I'm here. He comes here to the Astronomy Tower every night to do the same thing and I'm always here watching him. I've been watching him this whole school year and I see what his own friends refuse to see. He's not well. He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep, and he comes here every night.

I'm watching him tonight like I do every night. He takes a small pocket knife out of his pocket and drags it across his arm, drawing blood. It always starts out light. Small cuts where the blood just beads up ove the cut. As he continues, it gets deeper. I watch the blood dripping down his arm to the floor. I look at his arms because I can't bear to look at his face. It's too calm. When he makes the cuts, his eyelids droop as if it's brought him the greatest pleasure. No, it's easier to watch the blood.

He begins to sway as the blood loss becomes too much for his body. I mumble a cushioning spell as he drops to his knees. He's too far gone to notice.

As he finally slumps into unconsciousness, I step out of the darkness. I whisper a blood clotting and blood replenishing spell. I coud do more... rid him of the injuries all together, but then he would know that I was here when he woke up. I just do the bare minimum to save him without him noticing.

I go back to my dark spot as he begins to stir. I wait. He awakens with a confused look and then sees the cuts. I see the confusion leave his face as he remembers and then probably thinks that he was out long enough for his cuts to stop bleeding on their own. He cleans his bloody mess and creeps out of the tower to go back to bed.

I should tell someone what I know. The burden is becoming too much for Harry. How could a society depend on a child to save them all? It's too much for any person, and he's falling apart under the pressure.

I should tell someone.

THE END

/

That was it. I hope you liked it.