- Rating:
- PG
- House:
- The Dark Arts
- Characters:
- Harry Potter Sirius Black
- Genres:
- General
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Prizoner of Azkaban
- Stats:
-
Published: 11/18/2004Updated: 11/18/2004Words: 1,736Chapters: 1Hits: 317
- Chapter Summary:
- Harry is thinking on everything in life, especially the end.
- Posted:
- 11/18/2004
- Hits:
- 317
- Author's Note:
- Thank you so much to Hoikofu and Olitrin for betaing this story! If it hadn't been for you, it would never had been published! To the rest of you, I'm not a huge fan of song-fics myself, but every time I listen to "Mad World", I think about Harry's trouble. It's not a long fic, but it's long enough to express his thoughts.
Mad World
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Why can't they all just leave me alone? I don't want to be around them all the time. I need to be more alone. I guess they mean well, but I still feel crowded. I know all of the faces around here, faces from the Order. No wonder, since I'm stuck here again, at Number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
Dumbledore sent Tonks and Moody to get me away from the Dursley's pretty early in the summer. He said I had been there long enough already. After Dudley's attack last year, the Dursleys trust me even less than before. I wish they would just give me a break and let me live my life alone.
Everyone here looks so tired. Why do they have to be tired? They haven't done much except walking around, telling people they know that Voldemort is dangerously alive. And most people know that already, so that's not much of an accomplishment either. Compared to me, they have nothing on their minds. My closest thing to a father is now dead, all because of me. If I had learned to block my mind better, Voldemort would never have managed to trick me like that. I should have known...
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
And they're off again. Mr. Weasley still works at the Ministry of Magic. Tonks and Moody are off to their Auror-duties as usual, and Lupin has his own job running errands for Dumbledore. It seems like no one will ever give Lupin a proper job. Ron and Hermione are busy doing nothing. Well, they say they have to keep this place liveable, but if they really meant it, they would have pushed me harder to make me do something too. It's like they think I'll crack if they touch me. I'm not fragile. I'm not fragile at all. If they only knew how my life might end...
But I... I'm stuck here, told not to go anywhere. As if I could if I wanted to. Even when the others aren't here, I feel like they're watching me. And I don't doubt for a second they are.
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Mrs. Weasley always tries her best. Just today, she brought me breakfast in bed, said I had to eat something. It's like she thinks I will starve to death if she doesn't bring me the food herself. She often asks me how I'm doing in her motherly way, and I wish I could answer her, answer her truly instead of saying "I'm fine" all the time, but I can't. I see her eyes, dead eyes. Tired, but at the same time expressionless, like she's been crying for a long time and don't want to anymore. I don't want to cry anymore either. Sirius is gone, and tears won't bring him back. Crying won't help me fight Voldemort to the end...
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
I don't want to be the one to kill Voldemort. It's too big for me, too big for anyone. I wish they could take it all back, let me be a normal teenager for once. Let me do what I please, and not constantly have to think about the consequences of my every move. I just want one day in my life where everything is normal. No Voldemort, no prophecy, no Dursley's, nothing.
I wish I could feel happiness again, not all this sadness I can't escape. Sirius was meant to be alive. He was meant to teach me the stuff that only fathers can. Now I have no mother, no father, and no god-father. I have no one to turn to anymore. Lupin is always hanging around this house too when he's not off doing his Order duties, but he's no help. He's lost his best friend all over again, and he looks as miserable as I feel.
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I often have a dream. This dream about Voldemort and me. This confrontation we will eventually have. Every time in my dream he mention Sirius, which should give me strength, but it doesn't, because he's dead and every time he's mentioned a part of me breaks. Every time I have this dream, I die.
Even though I get sad by the thought of Sirius, it's not sad the feeling of dying. Even though it's just a dream, it feels so real. So real, and so...good. And when I wake up from this dream, I feel kind of sad. It's like I wish it could all be true. Wish that Voldemort finally had managed to kill me. Wish to finally be out of this world.
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world
mad world
I wish Ron would understand this feeling inside me. I told him and Hermione about the prophecy at last, and they got these horrible looks on their faces. Ron just stared at me. Like I was some kind of ghost or something, and he didn't utter a single word for several minutes. Hermione on the other hand was furious. She kept babbling on about prophecies, and how they really altered the future, which was the only reason she chose Divination as a subject, but she never thought someone close would be a part of one.
Ron's and Hermione's reaction made up my mind. I would not tell anyone else. It's too hard to talk about, which I knew it would be, but I never dreamed it would be this hard. No one would ever understand, not ever. I wish I could just run away. Run away from Voldemort, from this life, and from this mad, mad world.
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
My birthday was yesterday. Sweet sixteen it's called. What's so sweet about it? I gave up looking forward to my birthday five years ago; there's nothing to celebrate. Everyone here were excited about it, though. No idea why. It was my birthday, not theirs. I guess they thought they could cheer me up with a good house-elf-made dinner. Even Hermione didn't mention a word about S.P.E.W., though I could see her scowling at the table. She didn't eat much either. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Weasley insisting I be in the kitchen that day, I don't think I would have even come.
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
It's like there's a rule that says everyone has to be happy on their birthday. Who made that rule? Moody even confronted me in the corner, his normal blue eye on me, and his weird eye on everyone else in the room. He told me this was a time to be happy. They all needed a party, and it wouldn't do to have the guest of honour looking that miserable. He wouldn't listen when I said I'd rather be anywhere else. So, I ended up sitting next to Mundungus Fletcher while he talked about this brand new supplies of cauldrons he had gotten his hands on. I don't know where he got them. I just sat there, nodding, not listening. Sat and thought about my dream.
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
It's school again. September 1st came much too quickly this year, or not. I wasn't really sure. School for me meant that I could think about everything else, but it also meant that everyone could see me. They all think they know me, the Boy Who Lived. They don't know anything about me, don't even know that one day, either I will kill Voldemort, or he will kill me. Don't know I would prefer the latter. If I told them; what would they think of me? Probably think that I was lying. That I just want fame and fortune like everyone else. It didn't stop them before that I myself knew the truth all along.
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me
Back to school, means back to all of my subjects, even Potions. During the last term, Dumbledore had made sure that I didn't flunk. I wish I did flunk last year. That would have meant no Snape. I had enough of him at Grimmauld Place; every time he looks at me it feels like he's reading my mind. He probably is too. No matter how hard I try to block my mind, it doesn't work against him. It feels like he can look right through, into my every thought. He probably can too.
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
My dream never ends. Voldemort will manage to break me one day. I'm not strong enough to hold him off forever. He will always have this one advantage against me - that every person I care about dies in the end, that I want to die as well. But I don't care, not anymore. They can find another way to break Voldemort when I'm gone. There has to be another way.
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world, mad world
Ron and Hermione are still upset about the prophecy. They still try to make sure that I'm fine all the time. When will I ever be fine again? The least they could do is to not treat me like I'm made of glass. I won't break if they come near me, not at all. Not before my last confrontation with Voldemort. Then they all will see I'm just another normal teenager.
I just want to get out of here. Out of this mad world...forever.
Enlarging your world
Mad world
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