Disclaimer-this isn't mine

Author's note- this is probably my best story, I hope you like it too.

Harry was sitting in the Hog's Head, under a thick black cloak, which was half for the November chill and half for concealment. He needed to be concealed for two reasons: he was insecure and didn't want to deal with people bothering him about it, and because he was drinking Fire Whiskey. A lot of Fire Whiskey.

He had tried ignoring the pain, talking about the pain, violence, self-destruction, loud music, and even art. The truth remained; the feelings from loosing Sirius were too great to be left alone until they went away. To solve this persistent problem, Harry did the only thing that he though one could do in this situation: get drunk.

This was not as hard at school as it was over the summer. During the summer Harry had snuck out to muggle bars and such in the dead of night. Now, he could just go into Hogsmeade in a fairly decent disguise and order as much as he wanted of anything he wanted. His preference being Fire Whiskey.

This afternoon in particular was a bit less of a hassle for him, considering it was a Hogsmeade weekend. He had told Ron and Hermoine he as staying at school and had left about an hour after they had. Right now, he was fairly drunk on his tenth shot of fire whiskey. The best part about wizard alcohol to him was that you never built up a tolerance.

He was about to go when another cloaked figure entered the pub. He was too intoxicated to realize he ought to be scared. The figure sat down across from him and ordered a drink. He could see their face from under the hood from such a close range. It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

He wasn't scared, or angry with her. He refused to blame anyone but himself for his godfather's death. The only reason he was still living was because he couldn't stand the guilt of having the Wizarding world under Voldemort's rule because he wasn't courageous enough to live up to his destiny. Some Gryffindor he made. He was becoming more like a Slytherin every day. He almost laughed at this, almost. He hadn't laughed in… he didn't know the last time he had really truly laughed.

Bellatrix's drink came and she finished it off quickly, ordering another

"So tell me little boy," she crooned in her mock-baby voice, "do you miss him terribly. I think its good he's gone, you know. That's one less blood traitor to take care of, now. If only we could have gotten your mudblood friend, too. I was rewarded for killing him."

"You didn't," Harry stated simply, hi speech slightly slurred.

"Didn't what, little Harry?"

"Didn't kill him. I did, it was my fault he's dead. I should have known it was a trap." This reminded Harry of one remedy for depression he hadn't tried: talking about things while he was drunk.

"Quite guilty aren't we. I'm never guilty, I only do things for a reason." She leaned forward a bit drunkenly (having just finished her fifth drink) and kissed him on the lips.

"What was your reason for that?" Harry snarled, spitting into his empty glass.

" To get you confused, and enraged, but you liked it. You don't know what happened and why. You've slipped just a little bit more towards the edge, you're just a little bit more insane." With that, Bellatrix got up and swept out of the pub.

0o0o0o0

The next summer, Harry received a letter from Bellatrix.

Harry

The Leaky Cauldron, 11:30, July 23rd.

Bellatrix

At eleven o'clock, he slipped into his thick black cloak and placed the invisibility cloak over his head as well. Quietly, he left Grimmauld Place and headed down the silent alleyways towards the heart of Wizarding London.

As he entered the pub, he removed the invisibility cloak. He headed towards a table where a similarly cloaked figure was sitting. As he approached, the figure stood and headed towards one of the rooms Tom had for people who stayed overnight. She must have gotten the key before he arrived because the door was unlocked.

The second the door closed, she removed her hood, Harry followed suit. She swiftly met his lips with her own. She trailed kisses from his mouth, along his cheek, to his neck and ear.

He didn't protest. This was his punishment, the punishment he not only badly deserved, but also desperately needed. He was happy to feel the sting on his lips long after he left the older woman's arms. It was his solace, but also the action that was progressively driving him closer to the edge, the brink of sanity, nearing suicide.

As the summer days past, he received more and more letters from her. He followed the instructions in each one, and each time he was 'rewarded' with a kiss.

The last letter he received came on August 30th.

He followed his usual procedure, meeting her in the room and removing his cloak.

This time, when Bellatrix's kisses trailed off to kiss neck, she whispered in his ear: 'goodbye, little Harry'.

"Avada Kedavra."

But the voice that spoke these two final words was not hers.

Author's note- PLZ PLZ PLZ PLZ review!!! It makes my day!