Title: Lost in the Abyss
Author:ShadowChild
Summary: Harry does something that brings everyone to reevaluate how well they know him. He tries to kill himself. Only one person cares enough to find out why.
A/N this is a story done often enough but I felt it needed something…
It was a frosty night in late November it was the coldest November day that anyone who was at Hogwarts that day remembered, which was somewhere around one hundred fifty two years. Madame Pince had spent the day searching the records for a day this cold. It was dark outside and there were no signs of life around, all the trees usually so green and large were bare gnarled branches sticking out at seemingly impossible angles. Empty bird nests were perched on these branches though their inhabitants had long since migrated south. The ground that in summer displayed lush green grasses was covered by a massive blanket of newly fallen snow.
The only light came from a full moon shining over the snow coated grounds causing the white snow to glisten enticingly. Earlier in the day however there had been no light and no sign of it, the entire day had been gray and dreary for everyone in the castle. It had been the kind of day where day something goes wrong every chance it got and of course everything had for at least one person.
Harry Potter sat by the window in his dorm room near the top of Gryffindor tower more depressed than he'd ever been. His life at Hogwarts was no longer meaningful; it was not the snow or the dreariness of the day that made him think these thoughts but the turn his entire life had taken these past two years.
His appearance was the first change that anyone would notice. He was so thin that each rib could be counted and felt nearly all the way around. His eyes seemed to have sunk deep into his face and they had lost the spark that had lived in them for the first few years of his time at Hogwarts. The streak of mischief that had stood out in his eyes had been replaced by a seriousness that no one else could explain. Truthfully he didn't know if he could pinpoint it either. When he looked at himself in the mirror now he didn't see what he used to.
He wore dark clothes even when he wasn't in his robes. He wore black muggle jeans that were like all of his clothes ten sizes to big but comfortable, his standard shoes were black boots that he had bought with money he had changed at Gringotts. No one noticed this change in wardrobe.
Staring at the moon in the dark sky he hummed a muggle song that he had grown quite fond of.
I see the moon
And the moon sees me
The moon sees the one, who I want to see,
God bless the moon,
And God bless me,
God bless the one who I want to see.
The one who he wanted to see, maybe he could pinpoint the cause of his change after all. Harry stood from the chair he was sitting in revealing the fact that he had not grown in nearly two years and had been short to begin with. He looked no older than thirteen. His legs were long compared to his torso and this made it easy to hang onto his broom during Quidditch though lately he had lost all interest in Quidditch.
He slowly walked to the battered trunk near the end of his four poster bed and undid the lock. This made a slight noise and one of his roommates grunted. Harry crouched unmoving and unbreathing for two full minutes before he moved again and the moves were more calculated. He proceeded to open the trunk and rummage carefully through it. After a minute and a few mouthed curses he pulled out a photo album.
Slowly he set it on the ground and closed his trunk. He then picked it up again and tiptoed out of the room. He eased slowly down the stairs praying that nobody would hear him. He'd have a nasty job explaining to McGonagall why he had to go to the common room at three in the morning. He could picture that scene. McGonagall in her bathrobe and hairnet lips pursed tightly (He seen her like so often he kept looking for a ticking vein in her forehead) and eyes staring at him with one eyebrow raised.
"Tell me Mr. Potter why were you going to the common room of all places?" she'd trill as she had every time she found him.
"So I didn't wake my room mates Professor." He'd mutter as innocently as you please.
"Why at three o clock Potter?" she'd stare into his eyes and he would pretend to back down.
"Seemed as good of a time as any as I couldn't sleep, haven't in fact since last August." Well he'd have to edit the last statement of course. She couldn't know that. To her he still had to be Perfect Potter as he did to everyone else. No one knew what he felt and no one cared.
The summer after fourth year he hadn't been allowed to leave the Dorsey's' until the very last week of August and in his absence Ron and Hermione had come quite er close to say the least. It seemed Hermione hadn't gone to see Krum or something to that effect and they had confessed their love for one another. They spent so much time necking during that one week that he was sure they'd stick together and it had just gotten worse.
Banishing these thoughts from his mind he opened the photo album. He lingered for a moment on the photos of his parents, staring into his mothers emerald eyes that were just like his people said though now they had dulled. His father smiled at him and he saw the crow's feet at the edge of the older mans' eyes.
Quickly he turned the page skipping pages as he hurried. Finally he came across the picture he was looking for. He eased it out of its spot and held it close to him. It was a fairly recent picture and its stillness proved that it was a muggle photograph. In it were Harry and a young boy no older than two. You could see from his face that it was a fairly recent problem.
He stared at the little boy his hair was so light it was white in the colorless picture. The smile on his face was rivaled only by Harrys'. Harry held the little boy on his shoulders in front of a tree in a park that could have been anywhere. He stared at the striped shirt on the young ones shirt and the tiny shoes on his feet rememorizing every detail that he already knew by heart. Holding the photo close to his heart he headed out of the portrait hole suspecting no one was watching. Unbeknownst to him someone was.
Ginny Weasly slipped out from behind the armchair she was hidden behind. She too slid out the portrait hole and ignored the Fat Lady,
"What are you two doing I should like to know?" she shrilled robotically as she had done for centuries when students were out of bed. Ginny ran down the corridors following Harry's echoing footsteps. She didn't know where he was going, but something told her she had to follow. She went upstair cases behind him and realized that his steps became more hurried.
Harry didn't know anyone was following him and he didn't want anyone to. Know was to know what he was going to do until it was done. No one will care anyway all they'll care about is that the boy-who-lived is gone. Boohoohoo we have to take care of the dark lord ourselves with out Perfect Potter. No they wouldn't care that Harry had had problems that were much worse than that.
Only one person in the world would care that he was gone. And that one person was the only one he loved. He got to the top of the astronomy tower panting and walked over to the edge. The cold air blew his hair back and made him shiver. He raised his foot to the stone and pushed up with his hands. Well. He thought if I don't do it I'll fall anyway. The thought was quite comforting. He raised the rest of his body onto the ledge and stood his legs shaking.
He knew in his heart that he had to do it. If he did it that his pain would be over and no one would have to worry about him anymore, the child who he loved would live better because they would try to figure out why "perfect happy Potter" killed himself and they would realize what kind of a life Luke had. Yes it was the perfect solution. If it was the ideal solution then why was he shaking? Shaking his head he took a deep breath and bent his knees. Tears streamed down his face as he scrunched his eyes shut. Taking a deep breath he leapt into the black abyss.
Ginny ran up the last step in time to see his head disappear from view. Feeling sick she drew out her wand and ran to the edge she could see from the angle of his body that Harry had lost consciousness.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" she shouted her voice cracking, she felt the tug on her wand that signaled that she had him under her control. She pulled the limp body back up to the tower and let the spell go. She thrust her wand back into her wand and rushed to him. His eyes were closed and his face was peaceful. She stared at his chest and let out her breath when she saw he was breathing. She set his head on her lap.
"Wake up Harry." She whispered but he didn't stir. She stood and took up her wand again. She conjured a stretcher and put him on it. She saw that he was still clutching something. When she looked close she saw that it was a picture. She didn't know the young boy in it and wondered who he was. It was only then did she realize how absent she'd been in Harry's life for nearly two years.
A/N well here it is. My first chapter. I sincerely hope you review for if you don't I may be forced to no longer continue.