Chapter 11
Blaise sat on one end of the couch facing Harry while Harry sat on the other. Harry tugged a blanket up over his legs that he had curled next to him. He was facing the penthouse windows, holding his mug of tea in his hands.
“I know you’re a private person and that you don’t like telling people about important things, but I care about you, and I’m concerned,” Blaise began. Harry bit back the automatic response he had to tell Blaise that he was fine. He simply nodded.
“Last night you were completely out of it, so I’m not sure that I understood you correctly, or if you even meant to say anything, but I need to ask you about it okay?” Blaise continued. Harry just nodded again, heart racing in anticipation.
“You told me that people had hurt you, and that you had dreams about people hurting you. You said that you were lonely and tired. And Harry, you said that you didn’t want to live anymore,” Blaise said. Silence filled the room. Harry swallowed.
“How much of that is true?” Blaise asked in almost a whisper.
Harry looked out the window and sighed.
“I… I don’t want to kill myself, I’m not suicidal,” he began, clearing his throat, “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“So what did you mean then?” Blaise prompted. Harry took a nervous sip.
“Sometimes, I don’t feel like a real person. People look at me and they see my name and that’s it. That gets lonely. But I don’t really see a way out of it,” Harry said, nervous because he had never ever opened up like this, “Um, I don’t really love the lifestyle I live, but I don’t see any way to live differently. There’s nothing that I really want, you know? There’s no goal that I really want to pursue. So there’s not a lot to live for I suppose. And so then I get tired, and I just think about how long I have until this all ends. I don’t actively want to die, but I guess most of the time I don’t actively want to live either. I just don’t care.”
Blaise let out a breath, “Is that why you don’t care what they give you? You don’t care if you overdose.”
Harry shrugged, “I suppose so. I don’t really think about it.”
“When did you start feeling like this?”
Harry sat and tried to find an honest answer to that question, “My whole life has kind of been a shitshow. I didn’t really enjoy any of it, except for the first three years at Hogwarts, and some of my time with Nick.”
“Not even before Hogwarts?”
Harry looked at Blaise closely, “My relatives didn’t like me. They weren’t abusive, but they made it very clear that they would be happier without me. I slept in a cupboard under the stairs until I was eleven. I did all of the chores, and never had any toys. There’s more, but it basically boils down to the fact that I felt like I was nothing until my Hogwarts letter came.”
Blaise nodded, “I’m sorry that you were treated so badly.”
“It’s over, I really don’t think about them a lot,” Harry said honestly.
Blaise took a deep breath, “So then you went to Hogwarts, and things got better?”
“Yeah, Ron and Hermione were great those first few years. I met a lot of great people. I learned that my godfather Sirius Black was innocent, and that he wanted to adopt me. He obviously couldn’t, but the thought was still nice,” Harry said.
“Um, I know that’s not important right now, but I am going to ask about that later,” Blaise said. Harry smiled slightly, “I know you said you didn’t enjoy your fourth year. You don’t have to tell me what happened afterwards, but if you want to you can.”
Harry thought about it. He had never actually told anyone what had happened before. He figured if anyone should know, it should be Blaise. He took a deep breath.
“It was my birthday, after my fourth year…
Harry kicked his shoes in the dirt under where he was sitting. He was swinging back and forth ever so slightly at the park near Privet Drive. It was hot, like it always was on the last day of July. Harry was in an oversized gray shirt and baggy jeans, so he was baking. Still, it was better than being back with the Dursleys.
Harry had waited around all morning for some letters from his friends, but he hadn’t received any, just like the rest of the summer. He wasn’t sure why his friends weren’t replying to him, but he figured it had something to do with Lord Voldemort’s return. Still, he would have liked to hear something from Ron or Hermione, or Sirius. Even Hagrid normally sent him a rock cake for his birthday.
Harry looked up when he heard some yelling from down the street. Dudley's gang was tormenting some poor seven year old, kicking rocks and throwing sticks. Harry sighed and stood up. He didn’t feel like dealing with the pricks today.
He took a walk down a nearby street. He wandered aimlessly often. He knew which streets to avoid because Vernon had friends there who would report if they saw him. That normally ended in no food for the night.
Harry saw a nice big tree with shade over some soft looking grass and he debated laying down to take a nap, but decided against it, as it was starting to turn to dusk. He figured he should probably turn around, as it was going to take him a while to get back to Privet Drive, and night was falling.
He was almost home when he heard an unmistakable crack. He froze and slowly turned, taking in everything around him. He listened carefully, but heard no movement. Suddenly, several more cracks filled the air. He whipped out his wand that he always kept on him.
“Who’s there?” he asked, “Show yourself.”
“Harry, Harry, Harry, “ came a soft voice from the shadows that sent shivers up his spine, “Happy Birthday.” A dark figure emerged on the other side of the street.
“Voldemort,” Harry hissed. Ice cold fear lodged in his throat, “How did you find me?”
“It’s not so hard to do when you have someone pretending to work for the old fool,” Voldemort taunted.
“Snape!” Harry spat.
“Very well done Harry, you are a clever boy,” Voldemort said again. Harry hated how he spoke to him like he was a child to be praised when he knew Voldemort intended to hurt and kill him.
“What do you want?” Harry said, gripping his wand tightly.
“Oh maybe not so clever then,” Voldemort reprimanded, “You see Harry, there is this prophecy that told me that the only one who could ever defeat me… is you.”
Harry remained silent, not wanting to believe him, eyes darting around for an escape. Slowly more Death Eaters started coming out of the shadows, forming a large circle around the pair.
“And of course, while it is unfortunate for you, that can not be allowed to happen,” Voldemort continued, “So this will indeed be your last birthday, I hope you enjoyed it. Maybe we should sing you a song? Bake you a cake?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Harry growled, tired of the teasing. Voldemort’s snake also appeared from the shadows and slithered down around Harry’s feet, making it impossible for him to run.
Insane giggle burst from one of the Death Eaters, “He’s so sassy my lord.”
“He is indeed, Bella,” Voldemort said smirking, “Oh Harry, I suppose you don’t know, we have some new faces here tonight, so rude of me to not introduce them. Our recently escaped comrades.”
Harry’s mind whirled. He hadn’t heard about an escape from Azkaban, but then again, he hadn’t gotten any information all summer. Voldemort rattled off some names that Harry recognized, but Harry was busy trying to think his way out of this situation.
“Now, I think it’s time we get down to business. CRUCIO!” Voldemort cried. Harry was enveloped in agony as he dropped to the ground, dropping his wand. He refused to scream. Over and over he cast the curse until Harry wasn’t sure which way was up and which way was down. His wand had been kicked away from him once the curse finally stopped. Harry lay panting on the ground, shaking.
“He didn’t scream,” Voldemort said, “Strong boy. Too bad I can’t recruit you.”
Harry wasn’t listening. It felt like he was still on fire. For the first time in his life, he could feel his own magic. It was raging around inside of him, begging to get out. It felt like when he had blown up Aunt Marge, but a hundred times more. He let it grow and grow as Voldemort approached him. Harry wasn’t sure he could contain it much longer as the snake slithered over his neck, trapping him on the ground.
Voldemort leaned over him.
“Boy-who-lived, it’s time to die,” he cackled. Suddenly cracks filled the air again.
“The order is here!” cried one of the Death Eaters.
“It’s too late! Their precious Potter cannot be saved now!” bellowed Voldemort from above Harry. Harry cracked his eyes open to survey the scene. He looked down to see his hands were faintly glowing. His magic kept growing and growing with every second that was passing. It was almost strangling him. Harry wished he could direct it at Voldemort, but he didn’t know how, it was a force of its own.
“Stop now Tom!” came Albus Dumbledore’s familiar voice. Voldemort laughed in triumph.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!”
Harry felt the moment the curse hit him. It was slow motion. The curse struck his magic first, and all of the power that had been building up went off like a series of bomb reactions. The whole world exploded into white with the deepest boom that Harry had ever heard before everything went dark.
“That’s how he died?” Blaise asked.
Harry nodded, “My magic exploded, killing me, him, and the snake that was near me. It might have gotten a few of the Death Eaters but I never asked.”
“Wait, what do you mean it killed you too?” Blaise said. Harry sighed.
“Have you ever heard of horcruxes? No? Well, most people haven’t. Basically, when you kill someone, it tears your soul. It’s supposed to be someone innocent I think? I’m not sure, I’m not a soul magic expert. Anyways, when it does that, you could place that part of your soul into an object, that way if your physical body was ever killed, the part of your soul that existed in that object would still exist and you could be brought back,” Harry explained.
“Did you have a horcrux?” Blaise asked in horror.
“No, I was a horcrux. For Voldemort. He had several,” Harry took a deep breath, “Now I didn’t learn all of this until later, but basically, when he came to kill me when I was a baby, when the curse rebounded, he created another horcrux and it latched on to me, which is why we had a link. He didn’t know, and neither did I. But when he tried to kill me again, he only killed the horcrux, and I was able to stay alive.”
“How did you find out about this?” Blaise asked in wonder.
“Dumbledore,” Harry spat, “He had been doing research into this since my parents had died. He only had speculations, but his theories were confirmed when I survived that night.”
“You said he had several, how many could he make?”
“That’s hard to say. We know he made seven, including me, but who knows how many more he could have made with more time. Probably not much though, because it splits the soul in half, so by the time he came to kill me, he only had a seventh of his own soul remaining. I’m not sure how many more times a soul could be split,” Harry wondered.
“So are the other six still out there?” Blaise asked, “Could he come back again?”
Harry shook his head, “After I woke up in the hospital wing, Dumbledore explained to me what had happened. He knew the snake had been a horcrux, and she was dead. In my second year, I unknowingly destroyed a journal that was one as well.”
“So there were four left,” Blaise guessed. Harry turned sour at the memory of what happened next.
“At the time he thought there may be five left. Dumbledore wasn’t sure if the horcrux in my head had been destroyed or not. He said it was possible that the Killing curse had been blocked with my magic, and had possibly never reached me at all,” Harry said, “He said he was going to look into ways to find out, and other ways to remove it if it wasn’t gone, despite the fact that I knew for certain that it was gone. I could feel it.”
“How did you convince him?”
“I didn’t. He decided that I was too much of a risk, and that I needed to die, like he had decided when he passed my location through Snape to Voldemort,” Harry said.
“He did what?” Blaise gasped, “He offered you up to Voldemort to be killed??”
Harry nodded grimly, “He wasn’t happy when I survived. I know people could see the tension between us and that was why. He was trying to have me killed while parading me around like his pride and joy at all of the awards ceremonies afterwards. He wouldn’t let me talk to anyone but him, and was always trying to convince me to die for the ‘greater good’. He wouldn’t kill me himself, he was too worried about the integrity of his own soul. I probably would have believed him and killed myself if I hadn’t been so clearly able to feel that the horcrux was gone. He also told me about a prophecy that had been made right after I was born. It read ‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…’ Dumbledore took this to mean that we both had to die.”
“That’s horrible,” Blaise said in disgust.
“He completely isolated me from my friends and godfather all summer, and then continued to do so after Voldemort was gone,” Harry said, “I was so mad at him, his whole trustworthy, grandfatherly image completely fell apart. But maybe I could have forgiven him in time for just being delusional.”
“But…?” Blaise prompted.
“One day, he publicly announced that he was withdrawing protection from me because I was so powerful that I didn’t need it. We had been fighting every day, and he knew I would never agree with him. He also knew that I still had magical exhaustion and was recovering from the explosion. I couldn’t even cast Lumos,” Harry took a breath, “He kicked me out of Hogwarts, and then told the Death Eaters where I was. They hadn’t all been rounded up yet, and they were looking for revenge.”
Harry sat up and set his now cold tea on the coffee table, “They got it.” His voice broke on the last word as the memories replayed in his mind. He watched as Blaise stood and paced. He had never seen Blaise look angry like this.
“Blaise?”
“I’m sorry, I’m just, that’s so beyond fucked up Harry,” Blaise seethed, “Everyone and everything around you has just been horrible to you and you’re just- you’re incredible and you don’t deserve any of the shit that people have put you through.”
Harry didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. No one had ever said that to him before. That he hadn’t deserved any of it. He felt tears come to his eyes again, but only one fell. He wiped it quickly. Blaise turned back around and took a deep breath, and then chose to sit next to him on the couch.
“What happened next?” he asked.
“I-,” Harry broke off, not sure if he could tell the story.
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard,” Blaise said soothingly. Harry couldn’t imagine stopping now that he had told Blaise so much.
“No, I think I need to tell you, but I’m warning you, it’s not nice,” Harry said, voice shaking a bit.
“That’s okay, I’m here,” Blaise reassured him.
Harry took a deep breath “Okay so then…”