The Matter of the Purpose

A/N: 1)Genres: angst, drama, romance
Warnings: angst, suicide attempt

2)Thank you's to Dacian_goddess and Shadowsamurai for the beta work!


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The Matter


As I sat there, numb from the shock, speechless and horrified at the image in front of my eyes, I kept thinking only one thing: ‘Why?’

Staring in astonishment at his unusually pale skin, I noticed his limbs… swollen in the after - effects of what he tried to do.

Someone who loves and is loved as much as Harry is doesn’t have any reason to not want to live! He’s got everything now, everything he wants, everything he needs. He has close friends, a nice house to live in, he doesn’t have to worry about money, he’s healthy and he’s happy.

Or is he?

‘Why, Harry?’

Am I not good enough for him? Is it because he wanted a family and thought I didn’t? Didn’t I tell him I loved him enough times?

Regarding my loving him so much: of course I was surprised, at first, when I found out just how capable of loving I was, and after that, surprised at how much love I had to give to another person. How ironic that the man who I once thought of with disdain was the one to teach me about love and tolerance! I can’t believe how a single person, with whom I share such a past, has managed to gently pry open my mind and my soul. From that point on, I think I started considering Harry to be better than me, because I know that I started admiring him in ways I never would have imagined I could.

I’m still jealous of him, though I’ve progressed so much since his intimate presence in my life started changing me, and he always told me how proud he was of me, because I did it all alone. I’m not sure that is true. Harry is better than me, nicer than me, braver than I am, and that’s what helped me become who I am today.

In the end, everyone who thought I was a too bad choice for him has to agree that he has brought out the best in me, and that maybe I’m not such an unfortunate match for him. I have changed into a better person since I began my relationship with Harry Potter, which actually means what Mother affectionately told me: that we’re just the right people for each other. I want to believe that, and I think deep down inside I thought it, too. That is until today.

Today I’m staring at his limp body, the body the Healers in St. Mungo’s are trying so hard to save from the claws of Death.

‘Why, Harry? Why?’

Harry was my everything, is my everything. I would do anything for him. I would give him anything. I love him with all my heart.

Doesn’t he know that?

Was I too self - centred? Didn’t we talk enough? Was I too much for him to handle?

Harry told me he loved me. In fact, he always told me how he loved everything about me. I couldn’t imagine how that could happen, for there are plenty of things about myself I don’t like. He kept telling me how amazing I was, how proud he was of me to have changed so much. He responded to my insecurities with how I wasn’t a nuisance in the least. He kept smiling at me those heart-melting smiles of his, his eyes so full of pride, joy, and love I know I didn’t deserve.

I don’t deserve Harry, I know that. Yet I love him so much I can’t let him go to find someone better. And he just seems happy to be with me, too.

'So, then, why?'

Why come from my lunch break one day to the news that Harry Potter had tried to end his life?

I could not believe it at first; I thought it was a joke. Not that anyone would joke about such a thing, but how could it be true? Then I realized something had happened. At first, I panicked, and then the dread settled in. I felt a terrible sense of foreboding as I rushed to the hospital in a mad state of mind; then I saw Harry on the bed. He was awfully pale, unconscious, and surrounded by Healers frantically shooting spells at his unresponsive body.

~~

It was really Harry lying there, having tried to commit suicide.


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The Purpose


Something is missing; I don’t feel whole.

I have friends, money, all-time adulation from wizardkind, a fantastic boyfriend, and yet I don’t feel complete. Something is missing, and I think I know what it is: I don’t own myself. I feel like I don’t have a true identity; I feel like the name ‘Harry Potter’ doesn’t mean anything to me besides just a person who has grown up moulded after some already settled patterns. Ask anyone who Harry Potter is, and each person will give you an answer, subjected to their own views and expectations… and sometimes, personal experience.

I’m burdened by what I see as my flaws, I’m burdened by the impact of my past, my childhood. I’m burdened by the fact that after all, I don’t believe I’m that worthy.

Really, after everything I’ve done, I still don’t think much of myself and I don’t possess a lot of self esteem. Even though Hermione and Draco both told me that people who are far less capable than me have a higher opinion of themselves, and often unfounded, I seem to keep focusing on what I’m not, rather than what makes me a good person.

I defeated Voldemort after he had bothered me for all of my teen years. I did a good thing and I’m proud of it, because the world definitely needed to be rid of such an enormous evil. But other than that, I didn’t do much.

~~

Sometimes, there are too many scars. In all these years I’ve been here, living and breathing - and they’re not many - I’ve seen too much; I’ve experienced too much pain, too much loss, to be able to function properly.

And I thought I was over it. I actually thought I was over it, over the bad things and the horrible memories.

But then something happened that triggered this helpless state I’m in. Something that had to do with everyone having a family and my being alone in this world. After the war ended and things settled down a little, everyone went back to their close ones. Everyone rejoiced. They mourned their losses, of course, but they had someone left. People everywhere were just happy to have at least a loved one alive and in one piece. I was no one’s… and I’ll always be that way.

For a moment there, I felt like I couldn’t take it, like I couldn’t do it anymore.

Maybe my fate isn’t to live and die of natural causes; maybe I was supposed to defeat Voldemort and then to mentally collapse. I fulfilled my duty as a chosen hero; I had a task to do and I completed it, ambitiously and stoically. Now I feel like the repercussions are crushing me.

I have reached the end.

I’ve seen too much, it’s just too much. My life isn’t worth all that. My life can be expendable. You know, one dies for the benefit of the many.

It’s a bitter moment when I realize that maybe I’m to be sacrificed, that maybe I was a tool in the hands of Fate. Sure, the history books will praise me, but what good are the given conclusions if you’re the one who had to die for the moral of the story to happen?

Again, I’m overwhelmed by the bitter feeling that comes with these realizations. A terrible sadness, an absolute loss of hope spread through my soul, through my entire being, and it’s hauling me down. I just seem to have no purpose, and no desire to fight these feelings. I try to struggle with myself, but it’s useless; I know what decision I’ll make, I already feel the despair settling in.

So, in such a moment, I give in. I can’t decipher anything out of the thoughts crowding my mind, except for the fact that I’m miserable. I think I have to die.

Though a tiny bit of hesitation comes from a little voice in my gut telling me that maybe I should have hope for the future, that maybe good things are going to happen from now on.

Wait! Good things are already happening to me…

It’s too late. I started doing it.

But I don’t want to die! How ironic, that now I don’t want to die.

I’m so alarmed! What have I done?

~~

There’s a period of total blackout from which I don’t remember anything. What I know is that I’m lucid again and I’m able to think, even though I don’t feel quite awake and my mind isn’t clear. There’s an oppressive haze in my brain and I feel really awful, like I’m very tired and sick at the same time.

And then it hits me full - force: Draco! Draco’s going to be devastated! I can’t do this to him!

…I mean, am I dead yet?

I’ve written some explanatory letters to him, to Ron, Hermione… to everyone who cares about me. Have they found them yet? If they haven’t, though it’s a small chance, I’m going to burn them when I wake up, assuming I get to them first. I’ve told Draco that I want him to move on, to find someone else, someone better to love, and to be happy.

Did I really think that would be possible?

Would I like it if Draco did this to me?

Shame… I’m so ashamed! I’ve only thought of myself, egocentric bastard that I am… It all seems so silly now.

I am such a hypocrite!

I love Draco so much, and I’d take care of him in every way. I said I would do anything for him, and that was a promise I should’ve kept! I should’ve willed those thoughts out of my head for Draco’s sake. How could I ever think I had nothing to live for? How could I have ever put my past before my future?

Now I want to make things right. But what if it’s too late? What if my mistake is beyond redemption?

The enormity of what I just attempted to do crashes down on me.

What if Draco has done something foolish?

I have to battle with myself to not give in. I have to live. For Draco, with Draco, to make Draco happy! I can make him happy, I just have to get over this depression and live for him!

This is my last chance. If I regret being so stupid, now’s the time to make it better. If I’m ashamed of what I did, then now’s the time to undo it. I can prove myself, I know that. I can show the world who Harry Potter really is!

I can’t give up; I have to live, for Draco. I can’t give up now, when everything is all right.

Now, when I have a future.

Gone are the times when I wasn’t sure I’d make it alive out of the war, gone are the times when I couldn’t live my life as I pleased, when I was always constricted by something I had no choice in. I don’t have something bad looming over me now, do I?

Why hadn’t I thought of that before?

Bitching about how wrong I was to think my life wasn’t worth living isn’t going to help; I did what I did and that’s it. It’s time to wake up. I’ll have to explain it to Draco, though… Yet I’m sure our love for each other is going to help us get over it; get over anything, in fact.

And that’s just it: it's the love we feel for each other! If I’m true to myself, and at this moment I’m trying to be as honest as I can, then I guess that if there’s one thing worth living for and going through hell for, then it’s love. This wonderful feeling that fills your whole heart and it’s not enough for you to exist, but that you couldn’t truly be without… Love!


The End