He was so sick of feeling this way.
He was perfect. The best Quidditch player. A capitan! He always got perfect marks in every class. He would always help you with your homework. Or help you at all. He would always listen to you. Hug if you need. He was literally flawless in everyone's eyes.
He knew they were jealous of him. But he never understood why.
He did all those things because he felt like he owes them that. Because if he wouldn't do that he nobody would love him.
And still, when he was doing everything, he wasn't doing enough.
That's why he was sitting under the tree, near the lake. At night. Alone. He and his knife.
At first he didn't knew why he had brought the knife. He wasn't planning to do that. To hurt himself. It just felt natural to him.
But as he sat there, thinking of everyone, thinking of Sirius, Remus and Peter, thinking about the teachers, thinking about his parents, thinking about his Reggie... He only felt more and more like a burden to all of them.
It hurts. He hated that.
So he rose the knife to his left wrist and started cutting. He loved how the blood looked. How beautifully it was flowing. But he needed more. So he did. He cut, cut and cut.. until there was no more space on his left arm. So he switched to his right. Because it still wasn't enough.
He stopped only when his vision blurred. At first he thought that he lost his glasses. But when he touched them on his nose he realised that it was the side effect of losing blood. Of losing very much blood.
At first he panicked. But then, some peaceful and quiet thought came. He is stepping back. He won't be a problem anymore. Everyone would be free of him. He smiled at that and laid back on the grass.
The moon and starts were shining. They made him think about his friends again. And then it felt like he wasn't alone. He knew that they were sleeping in the castle, but because of the sky, or maybe because of how lightheaded he felt now, he imagined that they were watching him. That made him angry. He deserved to be alone, even if he was dying. He definitely didn't deserved them. So why wouldn't they go? Why wouldn't they leave him?
And then everything went black.
But before he left, he smiled to himself. He stopped feeling like a burden, like a problem. He was free, he finally felt good and light. That was all he ever wanted, his dreams came true. He hoped that everyone would be as happy as he was when he died.
Well, no one was.
How could anyone be happy when the sun has died?