Suicide

Suicide

Chapter One - Confessions

Hermione violently threw the knight from a set of Wizard's Chess at Ron. Harry watched rather detachedly as it arced through the air and bounced off the side of his forehead, leaving a small, red mark.

"You stupid git!" she cried, her voice hoarse with anger and frustration, "You are so blind! So utterly stupid!"

Ron's ears were beginning to turn red, and by his expression Harry knew his whole face would follow until it matched his fiery hair. "Well, if you'd told me earlier, I wouldn't have done it!" He turned to Harry, face pleading, but his friend held up both his hands in a defensive gesture.

"Sorry, Ron, but you're on your own," he threw a glance at the fuming Hermione. "I'd rather not get involved..."

Ron turned back to face the third member of the trio. She had her arms crossed over her chest and a furious expression plastered on her face. "Listen... Mione..." began Ron, but Hermione interrupted him.

"Don't you call me that!" she yelled shrilly. "You might as well call me Granger, like Malfoy does, for all the respect you have for me!"

Ron's face crumpled. "I honestly didn't mean to... it was just..."

Hermione planted her fingers firmly in her ears. "I'm not listening to any more excuses. I'm finished with you, Ronald Weasley," she stated, her voice growing louder. "I'm tired, and I'm upset, and I'm going to bed! And if you ever speak another word to me... let it be 'goodbye'!"

And with that she turned and hurried up the stairs, tears streaming down her face. Pavarti Patil looked reproachfully at Ron, and followed suit. Slowly the noise of the stunned Gryffindor Common Room returned to normal. Ron stood there, a mixed expression of disbelief and misery showing on his freckled face.

Lavender Brown gripped Ron's arm tighter. "Maybe I should..."

"No, Lav, this isn't about you. It's about her, and my complete inability to understand her. I'll meet you in the Astronomy Tower in five... if that's okay. I just want to talk to Harry..."

Lavender nodded, and left via the portrait hole. As soon as she was gone, Ron groaned loudly and threw himself into a chair by the fire, motioning for Harry to take the one opposite him.

"Well," said Harry, who remained standing. "I think you deserved that."

Ron looked at him, his eyes wide. "You're kidding, right? Listen Harry, I didn't know she liked me..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well it was pretty bloody obvious," he said scathingly.

"Yeah, but I'm as thick as two planks, Harry, you know that. I'll be the first to admit it. So when I told her, I didn't expect that reaction. It hurt; sleeping with Lavender was an achievement for me... I thought she'd take it like... like a mate."

Harry snorted incredulously, and flopped down opposite Ron. "A mate? Ron, she's a girl. Sometimes I think you forget that."

Ron sighed. "No," he said. "I doubt I could ever forget that."

Harry took a seat opposite his friend. "Ron, you have to admit...you and Hermione have had a thing for each other since we all met, in first year."

Ron put is head in his hands. "I know," he moaned. "But I didn't even realise until three years ago..."

"The Yule Ball?" Harry guessed accurately.

"Yeah... just seeing her with Krum and not me... I think it got to me."

Harry shook his head in sympathy and disgust. "Ron, the whole school knows you like each other. It's practically what older students tell the new ones..." he mimicked a girl's voice, "'See, there are the house ghosts, and that's the Transfiguration hall, and that's Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. They like each other you know.'"

Ron just looked at him.

"What I'm trying to say is that it's as well known as the enmity between me and Malfoy. And just when I thought you had finally gotten your act together, you go nd do something as monumentally stupid as this..."

"Oh good Merlin, Harry, what am I going to do? How do I get her back?"

"Well, firstly, dump Lavender," pronounced Harry.

"What, now?"

"Yeah. I'll be upstairs, so come and talk to me afterwards. I imagine she's not going to take it well... Lavender never does..."

Ron looked at the darker-haired boy strangely, but Harry shrugged and looked away. "Great," muttered Ron unhappily. "Now there'll be two women after my blood." He was about to get up and move across the Common Room, to the portrait hole, but just as he raised himself out of his seat he stopped and turned.

"It's just... I don't think that I'll ever be worthy of her," he mused thoughtfully. "Either of you. I mean, you're Head Boy and Girl, while I didn't even get Prefect... she does so well in school, and you, well, you're the Boy Who Lived. Sometimes, next to both of you, I just feel like rubbish."

"Don't be stupid, you're worth twelve of me."

Ron tried to grin, but failed. "I'm just so lucky to have you for a friend. And I hope you're right, Harry. Because I think I love her and I'm going to get her back."

Harry was about to reply, but the Fat Lady swung shut and Ron was gone. There was a smattering of applause from those in the Common Room who had not gone up to bed. Harry made as if to leave, but a voice stopped him.

"Harry... wait..."

"Hermione!" he said, surprised.

"Yeah. Sorry to keep you from your sleep and all, but..."

"Never mind," said Harry, settling himself once more in the chair. "I don't sleep very well these days."

A look of concern crossed Hermione's face. "Still recovering from what happened to Dumbledore?"

Harry nodded. "I just feel we're not safe with him gone. But let's not talk about that. You overheard Ron?"

"Only the last part," Hermione said guiltily. "I know I shouldn't have been listening, but I couldn't resist..."

"That's okay." Said Harry tenderly, patting his friend on the shoulder. He was rather startled when she burst into tears.

"Oh Merlin... he's gone back to Lavender, hasn't he, Harry?"

"Yes," he said bluntly. "But not for the reasons you think. He likes you too much to do... that... again."

"Did I hurt him? I threw a chess piece at him...could have blinded him..." she was nearly incoherent through her sobbing.

"I don't think you hurt him physically," said Harry cautiously. "But I expect he's rather upset. He always knew subconsciously but for you to tell him outright..."

"I didn't want him to find out like this!" she cried.

"I know," said Harry, hugging her. "I know."

"So what am I going to do?" she asked, giving Harry a sense of déjà vu.

"He loves you. I suppose all you can do is love him back..."

Hermione gave him a watery grin, which he returned with gusto. "I think I might be able to handle that..."

* * *

Harry sighed and dropped his head heavily onto his pillow. It always seemed to be him in the middle of whatever mess his friends created. Sure, he and Ron had fought, and Hermione and he had their differences, but he was, more or less, amicable. Hermione and Ron seemed to be permanently going at each others throats. Harry knew it was because they fancied each other, and had assumed they knew it too.

When Ron had come to him, embarrassed but rather cocky, with tales of his exploits with Lavender in the Astronomy Tower, Harry immediately sensed trouble brewing. When Ron, ecstatic about finally getting laid, decided Harry's been-there, done-that attitude wasn't stroking his ego enough and told the girl whom he considered to be his other best friend, all hell had broken loose.

Turning onto his stomach, Harry attempted to re-arrange his thoughts. He was lonely; the idea of Ron and Hermione being a 'happy couple' made him sick to the stomach. He never found love. Harry knew, or else suspected, that he would die young, alone, and tragically.

He didn't even have Ginny anymore! She had grown up and gotten over him, just when Harry thought they had gotten their relationship steady again, and with an artful flick of her vivid red hair, had chucked him into the box with all her childhood toys. She had come to him all puppy eyes and schoolgirl innocence, and played the "I hope we can just be friends" card. Harry, tired, disgusted and upset, had miserably agreed, and watched as she roamed the corridors freely with her friends, giggling and chatting. He sometimes wondered if she thought about him at all, about the night when he had deflowered her out in the bushes after Halloween.

She still talked to him; in fact, she considered him her prime confidante. She talked about boys, and sometimes girls, and never knew how much it hurt him to see shy, clumsy Ginny blossom into the elegant Virginia in front of his eyes.

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and eventually Ronald Weasley's tousled head was stuck in the doorway, his expression a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. Harry just raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"You were right. She didn't take it well. In fact, she made so much noise Snape walked in and gave us both detention," he made a face, "So that will be a happy little reunion."

Harry suppressed a grin, and hid his face in his pillow. Ron yawned.

"I think I'll go to bed, Harry, if you don't mind. I've had a little too much excitement for one night. You should try and get some sleep, too; you have the Quidditch match next week."

"Night, Ron."

"Night, Harry."

Harry rolled onto his side, pulled the red velvet curtains about his bed, and tried valiantly to go to sleep, despite the flashes of green light and screams of terror that pervaded his mind and filled his imagination.

* * *

"That will be thirteen Sickles, thank you," said Madame Rosmerta charmingly, smiling at Harry, who didn't return it. He moodily raised the thick glass to his mouth and drank, letting the Butterbeer flow down inside him and warm him. It didn't make him feel happy, exactly, but it made him feel better.

He felt someone place their weight in the seat next to him, but didn't turn to look. Instead he took another sip, and stared into the swirling contents of his mug as if it held all the secrets of the world.

"Drowning your sorrows, Harry?"

Harry turned and looked into his godfathers captivating dark eyes. "It's only Butterbeer," he protested.

Sirius sighed. "It's only Butterbeer now, but by the time you graduate, it'll be Odgens Fire Whiskey." Harry watched as he opened his mouth to say more, his brows pulled together in a scowl, and then snapped it shut audibly. He grinned sheepishly at Harry. "I'm sorry. I sound like my father did to me, when I was your age. And if you're anything like I was, you won't even pay any attention to what I was saying."

Harry turned his gaze from Sirius'. "I'm not anything like you. You're not my father." The words burned on his tongue like acid, and he instantly regretted them. He wanted to take them back, or at least, not say them in that harsh, accusing tone. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

Sirius shook his head slowly, ignoring Harry's stammered apology. "No, you're right. I'm not your father, though I knew him very well. I think perhaps you need some time alone. I'll be with Remus, if you want me."

He stood up, and walked out into the cold air outside. A gust of it came whiling in, and Harry felt something cold and slightly wet fall onto his upper lip. He licked it off; the first snow of the season. How fitting. And soon, soon it would be Christmas, and the entire nightmare would have to be lived again...

Harry shuddered, and gulped down the last of his Butterbeer, which was now slightly cold. Waving his dismissal of Madame Rosmeretta, who was hovering over him with a brimming pitcher, he too his leave, and trudged through the freezing sludge down the road and back to Hogwarts.

When he got there, there was a small shadow sitting on the steps, head in hands. As he drew closer he realised it was Ginny, and he quickened his pace. When he finally drew level with her, he realised she was crying noiselessly, her tears almost freezing before they hit the ground, and not really knowing what to do, the sat down and put his arms around her, and just sat there, holding her.

"Harry..."

Oh great, here it comes; the huge outpouring of emotion, where I just sit here in silence, listening and nodding and being a good friend. These days it seems that's all I ever do. First it was Ron, then Hermione, and now Ginny...what next, Draco?

"I've been so stupid... so very, very stupid." She sobbed, heaving against his shoulder. He patted her on the head clumsily, and pulled her slightly closer, breathing in the cinnamon and orange fragrance of her hair. Perhaps it was her perfume, perhaps it was the Butterbeer, and perhaps it was just his loneliness. But at that moment he missed her so much it hurt.

"Harry, I have to tell you... I haven't told anyone else..." she looked at him, her eyes red, her nose running. He brushed a tendril of curly red hair from her eyes. "I... I know where Voldemort is. I've known for the past three months. And I didn't... I haven't told anyone!"

Harry looked at her, with her downcast eyes, and resisted the rising urge to slap her. He pushed her away so roughly she almost fell down the stairs, and stood up, shivering slightly.

"How," he said roughly, his voice almost breaking in his sorrow.

It was one word, one fateful word.

"Tom," she breathed.

"Tom?" Harry almost screamed in his incredulity. "Tom Riddle? As in the Diary Man, who took you over and used you to further his own ambition? Tom Riddle is still alive?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not in that sense, no. But that night when you went to face him...at the graveyard, with the portkey... and Cedric... Cedric..."

"He died, Ginny," said Harry bluntly, sitting down again.

She sniffled a little, unable to say it. "Yes. Well, I think something happened to V-Voldemort that night," she said, stuttering slightly over the unfamiliar name. "Because that night the diary - you did know I kept the diary, didn't you? Draco gave it to me... but that's a different story - it warmed up. I should have gone to Dumbledore. I know I should have. But the prospect of seeing him again was just so exciting..."

Harry gave her a funny look, and she tried to explain this. "I was in love with him, you see. A silly crush, now I think back on it. But he was so handsome, and so supportive, and he became my best friend. He asked me to do all those things and I did them because I wanted to. Because I loved him and I thought he loved me too." She shrugged. "Who knows, maybe he did. He covered for me; said he'd put an enchantment on me. I believed him. But three years later, I still thought about him. And I knew... knew that what I felt hadn't been a spell."

She hung her head, and Harry felt a moment of pity. Gently, he took her hand. "But the diary?" he prompted.

"Yes, well, I was a little peaky after the diary was taken from me, but I recovered. And later, years later, I'd find the diary on my bed, a big hole burned in the middle from where you'd stuck that massive snake-tooth, and I just cried. I had to keep it a secret. I didn't write in it or anything; I just kept it, as a kind of memory.

"Then, after it was warm nothing happened for a while. But recently, I was talking to Draco, and he said he'd left it on my bed for me to find, because he thought I might like it back. Well, I'd pushed it to the back of my mind and the bottom of my trunk. So it shocked me to hear him talk about it. And when I pulled it out again, there were words there, in the same green ink."

"What did they say?"

"'Are you there, Ginny?' it said. And I replied, something silly, and he explained that he'd been waiting so long he'd begun to wonder if I'd forgotten him altogether. I was so glad to have him back that when Draco asked me about it the next morning... I..." she gained a guilty look, "I told him I'd flushed it down the toilet."

Harry moved a little uncomfortably. "So you and Draco were...?"

Ginny turned her head to one side slightly. "I thought everyone knew. I thought that's why you..." she faltered slightly, "That's why you weren't talking to me."

Harry's expression grew even more confused. "I wasn't talking to you?"

Ginny nodded silently, and lowered her lashes. "I thought you were angry."

He hugged her, feeling her soft warm skin under his hands. "I couldn't be angry with you, Ginny."

"You were pretty angry just before."

"Well, that was rather different. Dating Malfoy isn't the same as possessing evil knowledge and not telling anybody."

Ginny giggled, and immediately felt better. "Why don't we move this to the Common Room? There's almost ice forming on your nose. And it's getting dark."

Harry agreed amiably and walked her up the steps, and into the spacious Entrance Hall. From there they continued up to Gryffindor Tower, and the Common Room, in silence.