Title:When Destiny Is All You Have
Notes: Thank You to my lovely beta iheartwillhoge, check out her lj. This will be SLASH! It also contains ATTEMPTED SUICIDE in later chapters. No flaming, you have been warned.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The crappy attempt at 'plot' within belongs to me. No plagerism of other authors is intended.
Chapter One, A Boy
Harry Potter was in trouble.
Everyone said so. 'Depressive' some said. 'Self-destructive' followed him in the halls. 'Withdrawn' from the teachers. Harry sighed, and looked at his clock, 11.57 pm on the 30th of July.
Harry wasn't so sure. After he had lost Sirius, he had supposedly had a radical change of character, but to him, it seemed more like the side that no one, bar the sorting hat, saw coming to the fore, his Slytherin side.
Admittedly he spoke less, but he listened more, and in this he learned so much about the people he saw every day. Harry had refused to have his lifetime ban lifted, much to the dismay of the Gryffindor team, but accepted the return of his broom gratefully.
His marks had improved rapidly with his additional time to study, but not too much, Harry was learning to subtle art of doing well enough for there to be no concern, but not so greatly, as Hermione did, to draw excess attention. Harry Potter was trying to fade into the background.
Harry sighed, that wasn't likely now was it? His apparent change of behaviour was enough to cause the teachers and his housemates to watch him like he was about to crack and go jump off the Astronomy Tower at any time. Harry smirked, perhaps he was.
The Daily Prophet was running weekly stories about Harry's decent into the Dark Arts and suicidal tendencies. One headline stood out in his mind 'BOY-WHO-LIVED-TO-KILL-HIMSELF?' Harry found that one rather appropriate, with the overwhelming possibility of his death along with old Snake-face's.
And they were right. he was learning Dark Arts, but how else did they expect him to destroy Voldemort? Mad-eye Moody had spent huge amounts of time firing hexes and curses at his, sometimes for days on end and expected him to keep going.
Harry fingered his wand, he had little need for it these days, but it was a comforting weight in his hand, a familiar presence, and prepared to get the hell out of No. 4 Privet Drive.
He had received no less than four separate orders to remain there after he turned 17, from Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hermione and Mrs Weasley respectively. That he was best protected there.
But Harry just didn't care any more, let it end, he thought over and over, let it end. He would face his destiny when it came, and knew that in it all, he was just a pawn, a weapon, and now was the time to strike.
Harry looked over at the clock as what were most likely the last few moment of his life, watched as it glowed 00.00 in the dark and thought to himself, Happy Birthday as he apparated out into the night.