If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

Everything was just so hopeless. There was no joy, no happiness, no peace. Hadn't I done enough for this world? Hadn't I paid my penance? Why is it that it seems that I have to earn my right to exist? That I have to prove my worth to live?

What had I done in the past, who did I piss off, that I was cursed with this… existence? It seemed as though I was allowed to exist, but never to live. I was a pawn, a toy, for the wizarding world to use and then discard when I'd served my purpose. Nothing more. Never anything more.

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey but she buries her baby

Worthless freak. Boy-Who-Lived. Savior-of-the-Light. Lying murderer. Attention-seeking brat. Filthy Half-Blood. Worthless freak. Invisible, obsolete, non-existent.

But never Harry. Just Harry.

I was never allowed to be me, always supposed to be the person behind the titles. It didn't matter if they were true or not. Never did, never will.

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I've had just enough time

If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I've had just enough time

No one ever saw. No one ever cared.

That I always- always- spent two to three weeks visiting Poppy at midnight so that she could heal my wounds at the beginning of every school year, the end of every summer. It didn't matter that I'd used my patient confidentiality right… no one saw. The bruises, the scars, the words Freak and Whore and Murderer carved into my back.

Not my head of house, not my honorary werewolf godfather with heightened senses- did he not smell all the blood hid beneath my glamor?- not my so-called best friends who slept in the same dorm, and certainly not my father.

Definitely not my father.

I returned to contemplating the letter- my last letter- in front of me, and the gleaming, silver dagger that Remus gave me. Just in case, he said. Well isn't this an interesting case.

And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom
I'm as green as the ring on my little, cold finger
I've never known the lovin' of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand
There's a boy here in town who says he'll love me forever
Who would have thought forever could be severed by
The sharp knife of a short life, well
I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls
What I never did is done

I'd become fast friends with Draco that very first time in Madam Malkins. But when he found out who I was, he told me we had to keep our friendship secret, or someone could hurt either of us. So we did. Brilliantly, I might add.

He'd found out about the abuse, about my Uncle's little 'games' accidentally in second year, and ever since he'd held me as I cried from my nightmares, because my sobs woke everyone else in my dorm, and they told me to keep it down because 'some people actually had to study' and 'didn't have the world handed to them on a silver platter like a certain Boy-Who-Lived'.

He healed the marks that I didn't want Madam Pomphrey to know about, and taught me the intricacies of a full-body glamor and how to maintain it at all times.

It wasn't till mid-fifth year that I realized that I loved him. I'd suffered through two weeks of panicking before Draco cornered me and forced me to confess. And to my unending surprise, he kissed me, and told me he'd always loved me, and would never leave me.

And he understood that I wasn't ready for physical intimacy, maybe never, but he'd wait for me, he always would.

And I'd love him forever for that.

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'
Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'

I'd found the chest in Vernon and Petunia's attic when I was six years old. My 'family' had left for Spain for three weeks and I'd been left alone to fend for myself, when I'd stumbled across the trap door in the ceiling, and the broken string hanging from it.

It'd taken some doing, but when I discovered the chest, and the items therein, it'd more than been worth the beatings when I'd been discovered.

I'd read that mother had loved someone name 'Severus Snape', and James was never my father. There was a whole box of letters that she'd written that he'd returned unopened.

But apparently my true heritage was supposed to have been revealed to him at the will reading, so I'd held on to the hope that he didn't know where I was. And when I found out that he was at Hogwarts, I'd decided that I was going to do whatever I could to get him to love me, to want to be my father.

I was going to tell him of my relatives, the very first adult I'd ever thought I might trust was him.

Stupid, naïve little Gryffindork.

It only took that first class for him to remind me of my Uncle, and everything he did after only cemented it in my mind. He hated me, never loved me, and never would.

Sometimes I'd hope that maybe- just maybe- he didn't know, that he'd love me and protect me if he just knew.

But if there was one thing that I knew, it was that hope was worthless, pointless, and would only hurt you in the end. I'd learned not to expect anything; if you didn't expect kindness or mercy, you weren't disappointed when it never came. It was easier that way.

So much easier.

If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a, bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

So here I was, first day of 6th year, standing on the roof of the Astronomy Tower, alone- always alone- with a silver dagger glinting dully in the light of the moon.

I'd defeated Voldemort at the Ministry last year, but no one thanked me for that.

No, I was a self-centered, arrogant, stubborn bastard who led Neville and Sirius to their death.

Remus wouldn't let me go to Sirius after Bellabitch hexed him through the veil, but Neville already had a bone to pick with her, and tackled her, sending them both through the veil together. It had taken place in the span of four seconds… but it was enough to condemn me.

I knew that Remus blamed me for the death of his mate. He didn't speak to me, didn't write me, wouldn't even see me, since that horrific evening.

I'd begged him- begged him- not to send me back to the Dursleys. I'd apologized, a thousand thousand times… but he still looked at me with those pain and resentment-filled amber eyes.

And I knew- I knew- that there was no more hope. That no one really, truly loved me. That I was a curse on those around me, and whoever was touched by my freakishness would die. I wasn't cursed with a horrible life, no. I was the curse, and my life was my punishment.

But the final straw, was Draco and my fath- Snape.

I'd been depressed, since my house had turned on me, and my godfather had died. I was barely functioning, but I was trying. And it was so hard, but I was really, truly trying.

But that wasn't enough for Draco. He'd apparently gotten tired of my 'sulking', and 'not-putting-out', and confronted me. On the last day of school, in the library, in front of everyone.

The words wouldn't leave my mind, they just swirled and tainted everything, making my heart, my mind, my soul black and dark and just pure agony. Words of 'pathetic bastard' and 'grow the fuck up' and 'can't even say you were a good shag'.

But the clincher, the one that broke what was left of my heart was: 'maybe if I just asked your uncle, he could tell me.'

I saw his face when he said that, and when he realized what he'd yelled, what he'd revealed, what he'd betrayed; I watched the remorse and pain mar his perfect features. But it was too late.

Always too late.

And I'd ran, far away from his beauty, his honeyed words and broken promises. I'd ran and ran and ran… but it seemed that fate wasn't done with me. It seemed that there was one more part of me that hadn't died yet, and it was going to finish its job.

I collided with Snape, who caught me before I could fall. But when he saw who I was, he sneered and abruptly released me, causing me to stumble and fall anyway.

And he looked down at my tear-stained face and spat with such complete and utter contempt that I flinched, 'And the attention-seeking little Golden Boy once again proves that he thinks he's above authority and respect, just because he's a hero and schools out. Just like his bastard father.'

And before I could stop myself, I blurted out the question that I'd refused to ask for fear of further pain.

'What if I was your son… would you still hate me so much?'

Snape didn't even hesitate.

'You're a pathetic brat with no regard for your elders, who is a complete and utter failure in my class, who believes and expect the world handed to him on a golden platter, and who is completely and utterly worthless in all things except for the task that you completed this year. Even if you were my son'- a sneer of disgust- 'I would have disowned you by now. I can think of nothing more horrible than to have the misfortune of being your father.'

And that… that's when Harry Potter died. It didn't matter anymore that he'd been sent back to the Dursleys. It didn't matter that the torture had gotten worse, and that his Uncle had decided that he needed to 'earn his keep' and sold him out. It didn't matter that none of his friends wrote him, or that any letter Draco's owl Artemis sent was burned by his Uncle.

It never mattered.

Uh oh (uh, oh)
The ballad of a dove (uh, oh)
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
Save them for a time when you're really gonna need them, oh

Laying here now, blooding pooling beneath my strangely numb body, dagger fallen from my limp right hand, and letter firmly grasped in my left, I wondered how long it would take before they realized I was gone, or when they found me. If ever.

But I realized… I didn't care. I was saving them one more time from the curse that was Harry Potter, and they weren't my concern anymore.

And now, for the first time in forever, with the smell of lilies surrounding me and with my dimming emerald eyes fixed upon Sirius, the dog-star, I smiled.

It was over, finally.

And I felt it, for the first time in my whole life.

Joy. Happiness. Peace.

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls