Warning: Deals with themes of suicide. If you don't feel comfortable with those, please don't read.
Disclaimer: The characters and the world belong to JKR, I just borrow them.
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He didn't know how it had gotten there, but he was grateful that it was there.
Liberita.
The strongest and deadliest poison known to the wizarding world. It had been at the bottom of his Potions kit, just lying there, mocking him.
If taken, it would cause a quick, painless death.
He held the tiny bottle up; the moonlight made the emerald liquid inside it shine.
Harry took the cork off.
He needed to do this; he wasn't sure if he could take the pressure anymore. He was a ticking bomb, which could blow up at any moment.
Why? Why did it have to be him? Couldn't someone else save the world?
He didn't want to fight him. He wanted to end this, but he didn't want to fight him.
Harry was terrified, that was the truth. Though he tried to hide it, he was terrified of him.
'I'm going to die anyway,' he thought as he sat up on his bed at number twelve Grimmauld Place, Ron snoring loudly beside him.
He held the tiny bottle up again.
"Cheers," he uttered softly and raised the bottle to his lips.
Just then, the door squeaked and opened slightly.
"Harry?" a quiet voice called.
He froze, the liquid touching his lips, but never going inside his mouth. Who had interrupted him?
Ginny stepped quietly into the room. She wore her favorite Chudley Cannons shirt with some faded grey shorts, and over this, a loose nightgown left untied.
"Harry?" she tried again. "Are you awake?"
She walked further into the room, stopping right beside his bed. "Oh, you are... awake," she said.
Just then, she spotted the tiny bottle tightly clasped in his hand.
"What's this?" she asked, extending her hand and making a grab for it.
"Nothing," said Harry quickly, as he tried to hide the tiny bottle from her view.
However, his Seeker reflexes didn't seem to be working that day, for she snatched the tiny bottle from his grasp in a second.
"What is this?" she asked again, curiously, holding up the bottle towards the moonlight, so she could read the label.
"Liberita..." she read softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Then her eyes met his, her blazing brown eyes. Something shined behind them, a strange combination of sadness, anger and something else he couldn't quite make out.
"Harry, this is poison," she said slowly, as if trying to make him understand.
"I know," he answered.
"Why? What are you trying to do, Harry!" Ginny asked. She kept her voice dangerously low, but through her eyes he could see how angry, disappointed and hurt she was.
He didn't know what to say. Somehow, 'Yes, Ginny, I was trying to kill myself, before you so rudely interrupted,' didn't sound right. He gaped at her, his mouth moving soundlessly, while no sound came out.
He could see Ginny's mouth moving -- she was talking, reprimanding him -- but he couldn't hear a word she said.
Through his haze of thoughts he heard one question: "Why, Harry? Why would you do this to us!"
That snapped him.
To us? Did she have any idea what he was going through! He was dying slowly with each day; the weight of the world on his shoulders was killing him.
"To us?" he asked. "To us! Do you have any idea what it's like to live every day with everyone counting on you to do something that's impossible! I can't do this, Ginny, I can't keep pretending I'm a fearless leader because I'm not!"
He was flustered and angry now, his breathing heavy.
"I'm sorry..." Ginny said softly. She had recoiled sometime during Harry's comeback, he noticed; she had taken a few steps back.
"No Ginny, I'm sorry," he started. "I'm sorry you don't have to save the world! I'm sorry you don't have to kill someone who is invincible! I'm sorry you don't understand that maybe death is the easiest way out for me!"
His anger had risen alarmingly. How could she be reprimanding him about this! How could she not understand! She, out of all people!
Ginny's eyes flashed, but not with anger. He saw the hurt in her eyes, though she had never meant to show it. That was Ginny, hiding all her feelings behind her bravery so no one could judge her as weak.
"No, Harry," she started in a cold, dead voice that frightened him, "I'm sorry you don't even think about those who care for you. I'm sorry you don't understand how much we love you and how we are always here for you. And most of all, I'm sorry you don't care about leaving those who love you the most behind..."
Her eyes shined for a moment, then she turned her back to him and walked out the door.
He stared at the spot where she had been standing a second ago. He could still see her eyes, so full of something he didn't recognize.
He ran his hands through his hair. 'What have I done?' he thought.
In the bed beside him, Ron snored, still asleep.
Hope you enjoyed the story. Please review! Constructive criticism is always welcome.