A/N: Wow, I can't believe it's been almost 5 years since I've updated this story. I really fell off the Fanfiction band wagon because, well, I'm old lol and life got the better of me. However, I've been feeling a little creatively challenged lately and for some reason, this story is the one I seem to always go back to. I have ideas for a sequel, and I'd like to explore it...but it wouldn't feel right without wrapping this up first. I hope there's still some people out there who'd like to read it. Thanks to those of you who reviewed in my absence with your kind words. I hope you enjoy this.

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Harry laid in bed and stared out the window of St. Mungo's, all of Wizarding London below him. People bustled here and there, some entering the hospital, others on their way to somewhere else, all of them no doubt thinking about the important things going on in their important lives.

It struck him that it had been a long time since he'd felt like his life was important.

He took a deep breath and was about to try to just sleep again when he heard someone knocking on his door.

"Harry?"

Harry looked over to see who was there, and was relieved. "Fancy meeting you here," Harry said wryly.

Alex strode in and conjured a bedside chair. He sunk down into it and steepled his fingers together, allowing a brief, awkward silence to wash over the two of them. "So, how ya doing?" Alex asked, his customary greeting whenever he and Harry met. It broke the awkwardness, and Harry let a small smile slip out.

"Oh, you know. I just thought I would take a vacation, rest up. Normal stuff," Harry said flippantly. Despite the casual nature of their current conversation, the last things he'd said to Alex were playing over and over in his head. How he'd told him that he didn't need him; how therapy had done nothing for him; how their relationship was over. Why had Alex decided to come back? Harry was relieved that he had, but confused.

"Seems as good a place as any for a rest, I suppose. You've got this nice view and these flowers are good," Alex said with a smile, gesturing to the tiny, neat hospital room. Then he bit his lip and met Harry's eyes. "Seriously, though. How are you doing?"

Harry took a deep breath and shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess. Everyone here is pretty nice, but this has just been really overwhelming. No one will tell me when I can get out, and I just really want to leave, even though I don't really know where I'll go to after all of this."

Alex sighed. "You get why they can't let you go right now, right?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I messed up. But what are they gonna do, lock me up and throw away the key like Dumble-," he stopped. No, that hurt. It hurt too much.

Alex cast his eyes downward, then met Harry's again. "You tried to kill yourself, Harry. This is serious. Really serious, actually."

"I know, but-"

"There's no 'buts' right now. We need to make sure you're safe. Can you tell me what happened?"

Harry sighed. "I...I was just so upset about everything. Dumbledore, and how it reminded me of Sirius. My life, in general, I guess? The fact that no matter what I do I feel like a failure. I always feel like I'm letting my friends down, letting the entire Wizarding world down. And there's just going to be more. Now that Dumbledore's gone I'll just have more to do and more battles to face. I'm weak and pathetic and I just wanted the shit to stop," Harry said, realizing with a start that tears had started snaking down his cheeks.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Alex said, reaching out and gently placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You're overwhelming yourself, kid. Look, I guess I can't say I really understand the pressure you're under. You're facing some real, serious shit and that's not going to change for a while. When I was your age and dealing with my mental health issues, I just had me and my future to worry about. You're in a different boat. But, Harry, look at me." Harry's eyes slid up to Alex's grey ones. "Killing yourself is not the answer. You are wanted, and needed, and loved."

Harry took a deep breath. "What if that's not enough?"

Alex shrugged nonchalantly. "Then we'll help you believe that it's enough."

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When all was said and done, Harry stayed in St. Mungo's for a month. He wasn't entirely thrilled about it, but eventually he was moved to a different ward with other people who were struggling with their mental health. He talked, more than he'd ever talked before. Alex came by almost every day, and they talked about everything until Harry had no words left. He participated in group sessions, where he wasn't a celebrity, but was just another person, going through a rough time. He'd never been in a place-in the Wizarding world, that is-where there wasn't someone tripping over their words around him, or sneaking furtive glances. But aside from one or two double takes when he walked into the ward for the first time, no one hassled him or gave him a hard time or treated him any differently. Everyone was there to work on their own stuff, and Harry was just another of the people struggling. It felt...relieving.

Ron and Hermione even came to visit a few times when they were permitted, and told him of the end-of-year turmoils, and that the whole school was buzzing about what had happened.

"Everyone's so worried," Hermione murmured as she held Harry's hand.

"Mostly us, though," Ron said with a wry smile.

Alex prescribed some more Calming Draughts for him, telling him it would help the static in his head, and at the end of the month, the Attending Medi-Wizard on staff stamped a seal of approval on Harry's forehead and declared him fit to rejoin the rest of society.

The day he was released, he put on the clothes Ron and Hermione had brought him. The rest of his belongings had been sent back to the Dursleys, who were, begrudgingly, allowing him to spend part of his summer there until he would be going to the Burrow. It wasn't ideal, but it was all he had at the moment-a fact he had grown to accept.

Shortly after he had dressed and stuffed his meager belongings that he had at the hospital into his knapsack, Alex knocked on his door.

"Come on in," Harry said with a smile.

"Hey, kid. So they've decided to let you loose. What are they thinking?" Alex asked with a fake frown on his face. "I'm just joking. I'm happy for you," he said, and gave Harry a brief hug.

Harry laughed. "I know, it's wild. Glad I fooled them. I'm just kidding!" He said hurriedly when he saw Alex's face narrow with concern.

"I know you are. You've got everything you need, right? Journal, Calming Draughts?"

"Yeah, I've got all that. And these handy pamphlets the Attending gave me. How to Know When You're Not Okay, Stop! Don't Cut, and What To Do When You're Sad. These should be helpful," Harry said slyly.

"Yeah, those are an interesting bit of literature," Alex said. "Probably not the most realistic tools to help you, but seriously. I'm going to be here for you, but...with the way everything's going...I'm not sure how helpful that's going to be for you, either," he said quietly.

"I'm okay. I'm going to be okay. Things aren't perfect but this time here was more helpful than I'll ever admit again," Harry said with a small smile. "I'll lean on my friends, or you, I'll take my medication, I'll talk. I promise."

Harry took a deep breath, looked at his shoes, then met Alex's eyes. "But, Alex, I don't know what's going to happen in the next couple of months. With everything with Voldemort, I just...I'm not sure."

"I know, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about that," Alex said simply, looking at the boy in front of him. This boy, who everyone was counting on, who everyone needed. He'd given him every tool he had in his arsenal to fight the darkness in his head. But sometimes, darkness wins. Sometimes, against all odds and all hope, sometimes darkness wins.

"I'm worried, too. But I have to do this," Harry said.

"I might be worried, but I still have confidence in you. Come on, let's get you out of here and back to your aunt and uncle's," Alex said.

They went downstairs and Harry stepped out into the sunlight. He took a deep breath of the fresh June air and observed the hustle and bustle. Had it really just been a few weeks ago that he'd sat in his hospital room, not knowing what was going to happen, not being able to visualize a future in front of him? He still wasn't sure what was going to happen, but that no longer scared him the way it had before. He was still afraid, but it was the kind of fear that was...normal. The kind of fear he could face.

But Harry knew that this battle wasn't over.

Not the battle against Voldemort; that one, he knew, had barely begun. He was thinking about the battle of his mental health, and he knew that wasn't over, either, and probably never would be. He'd spoken at length with Alex during his hospital stay about this very fact.

Alex usually asked him at some point during their sessions what he'd been thinking of since they'd last spoken. That particular day, when he asked, Harry took a deep breath and said, "I've been thinking a lot about the future."

"That's good!" Alex said brightly. Thinking about the future meant visualizing a future. Visualizing a future meant believing you had one.

"No, I mean, well, yeah, I guess it's good I'm thinking about the future. But I've just been thinking about...what if I always feel this way? What if, every time something bad happens, my first instinct is to think about how bad I want to cut myself? Or hurt myself? Or worse? What if my depression is always just lurking there, waiting to come back?" Harry spit all of this out rapid-fire, not pausing for a breath or to think about whether or not these thoughts should be kept to himself.

Alex studied the boy with a sympathetic look on his face. "I don't know, Harry," he said simply.

"Aren't you supposed to know everything?" Harry asked sarcastically with a smug look on his face.

"Hardly, kid!" Alex said with a laugh. "Not even close. But I know that I still struggle with my mental health sometimes. I take a Calming Draught like you, and I sometimes still think of harming myself, and it's been a long time. It's a part of me, and I learned through my own therapy a long time ago not to try to bury or squash any part of me."

"Isn't that what we're trying to do-bury or squash my depression?" Harry asked curiously.

"Not at all. Harry, I'm trying to get you to accept everything in your life. The good, the bad, the sad. That doesn't mean denying your feelings or your depression. It means accepting it, and battling it, and knowing that you can keep going."

So as Harry stared up at the clouds, enjoying the warm glow of the sun on his face, he thought once again about his future. He thought about the possibility of feeling as bad as he had immediately following Dumbledore's death. At the moment he felt calm and in control, but those feelings could come back, especially with what was to come. He looked over at Alex and smiled.

As hard as it might be, he was going to try to enjoy the ride.

FIN.

A/N: Well, that's it for this one! I can't believe I finally finished it lol. I know this might not have been the strongest ending, but this story had really played itself out already. I do plan on making a sequel in the near future, so turn on author alerts for me if you'd be interested in that. Thanks for reading!