Careful he pushed the cold blade against his snow white skin and took a deep breath before pushing the knife into his skin. As soon as he felt the knife cut into his skin and a small stream of blood escape his veins, he was able to relax. The pain felt so good. The pain made his sorrow and frustrations disappeare for a while. It numbed his mind.
He had used this method to make himself feel better for about a month and half, but now the more he used the method, the faster the feeling disappeared and the more pain he needed to go numb.

He cleaned the knife with a simple spell and put it in his bag and then used the same spell on his arm when it had stop bleeding.
Harry looked into the mirror. His normally sparkling emerald eyes were dull and his face covered with dark bruises. Harry lifted his wand and cast a very strong glamour charm over himself, double checking his appearance before he left the bathroom.

He was happy that he was at Hogwarts so his uncle couldn't hurt him anymore but here he had a lot more chance that his habit of self mutilation would be discovered. It was hard for him to imagine what he would do if he wasn't able to cut the emotional pain away.
The thought of sitting in a dark corner, hiding from the world and crying his eyes out, made him shiver. He wouldn't let his uncle break him. He was too strong to break. After all he was the one who should kill Voldemort and a weak boy couldn't kill the most powerful dark wizard of the age.
If he couldn't destroy Voldemort, he was weak and useless. A waste of space. A freak. He would do anything he could to kill Voldemort or else he would die trying. It's not that anyone was going to miss him anyway. His family was dead, his friends were too busy with each other, and Dumbledore just used him as a pawn in his war.
Harry banned the bitter thoughts from his head while he made his way to his first lesson of the year: potions. He didn't look forward to it, but doing anything was better than doing nothing because then all the bitter thoughts and memories haunted him.

"There you are!" greeted Hermoine when he arrived in the dungeons. The classroom was still locked and Snape wasn't there yet.

"Why weren't you at breakfast?"

"Lost track of time," lied Harry.

Ron gave him a questioning look, indicating that he didn't believe Harry. "What were you doing then?"

Luckily Harry didn't have to answer that question due to the arrival of the Slytherins, lead by Malfoy.
"Potter," he said with loathing. "You're still not expelled?"

The Slytherins laughed at the comment;Harry just ignored the blond boy. If he reacted, he would surely end up in trouble. If there was one thing he learned this summer was never react and always obey.

"Since you weren't at the feast yesterday nor at breakfast this morning, I figured you weren't at school. Shame that you are."
Again the laughing of the Slytherins filled the cold dungeon.

"So, where were you then? Is the great hall not good enough for you, Potter?"

Harry felt anger rising, but he had learned to control that. Anger would only get him in trouble. He tried to pretend that Malfoy wasn't there.

"It's not polite to turn your back to me if I'm talking to you, Potter. Did your mother never teach you manners? Oh right... you never knew her!"
The Slytherins laughed loudly, but Harry still tried to ignore them, although it was very hard. But he wouldn't give anyone the opportunity to punish him.
Ron shot an angry glare to Malfoy, which made him laugh even louder.

                                                                                                                    

As Snape walked towards his classroom he heard laughter. He paused behind a corner and listened. Maybe he could give someone a detention, and get the year off to a good start.
"Since you weren't at the feast yesterday nor at breakfast this morning, I figured you weren't at school. Shame that you are." He heard Malfoy say.
Snape was sure that the Potter brat would say something back or even lose his temper and start a fight with his godson, but nothing happened.

“So, where were you then?” Snape overheard. “Is the great hall not good enough for you, Potter? It's not polite to turn your back to me if I'm talking to you, Potter. Did your mother never teach you manners? Oh right... you never knew her!"
Snape waited a few seconds, but the only thing that he could hear was the laughter of his house.

Strange, he thought while he turned the corner, approaching the group of Slytherins and Gryffindors. Potter usually loses his temper quickly, especially if someone insults his friends or family...

His eyes scanned the group and he saw that Gryffindor’s Golden Boy had turned his back to the Slytherins and was staring at the wall in front of him, with a blank expression on his face.
Snape decided that the brat had finally learned to control his temper.

"What's so funny?" sneered Snape, pretending that he hadn't heard the conversation. No one answered; the Slytherins just chuckled.
He opened the door to his classroom and the students entered it. Snape closed the door and stalked towards the blackboard.

"Today," he started, as soon as all the students had taken place. "We are going to make a Dreamless Sleep potion."
He saw that Potter's attention shifted from the wall towards him. His dark eyes met the boy’s green, sparkling eyes.
"If you don't do it right," Snape continued, "You will probably make a potion which makes you dream your worst nightmares."
He let his words sink in for a moment, scanning the class, searching for a victim from whom he could deduct points.
"You have one hour," he continued "to make it and then, after a week and half simmering you will drink your own potion and record your experience."
Snape waved his wand at the blackboard and instructions appeared. It was a fairly simple potion but it was very important the steps were performed at a precise time and with the exact quantity.

                                                                                                                    

Harry had a good feeling about his potion. It looked very much like the potion Hermione had brewed. Carefully, he poured the thick purple liquid into a vial, labeled it with his name and date, and put it on Snape’s dark wooden desk. Snape's eyes followed his every move as if he were looking for something he could criticize him for.

The bell rang which signalling the end of the class. Harry gathered his belongings, threw them in his bag, and left the classroom as fast as he could. He didn't even bother to wait for his friends. The faster he could leave the cold dungeon and the Slytherins behind, the better.

Over the summer he had decided that didn't want to be so close to Ron and Hermione anymore. Not because he didn't like them, but he was afraid that something would happen to them if they stayed close. He was terrified that everyone who he loved would die or that Voldemort could use them to blackmail him. He knew that he would miss their company greatly, but they wouldn't miss him too much. They had each other now.

Harry suspected that they avoided snogging in front of him, but he knew they were a couple. His hopes that he wouldn't be as lonely as he was at the Privet Drive had already vanished. The scars of the self inflicted wounds on his arm were itching and he suddenly felt the urge to take his knife again and press the cold blade against his pale skin. But he had no time for that. He needed to go to Divination and it was a long walk from the dungeons.

He was the first one to arrive at the staircase which lead to the classroom in the north tower. What would Professor Trelawney predict?, Harry wondered. He was used to being the subject to her most dramatic predictions and in his homework he exploited her love for dramatic events. She always seemed to be most happy when he turned in his homework bursting with most horrible accidents and bad luck.

The bell rang again and Harry started climbing the spiral staircase. He was the first one to reach the hot room. He sat down on his usual seat and waited for the class to start.
Like usual, Divination was boring. Even Trelawney's terrible predictions couldn't bother him.

"O dear boy," she had said halfway during class in her most dramatic voice. "I see a great danger in the near future!"
Ron had laughed and even Harry was able to smile. Of course there was a great danger in his future, he had to face Voldemort after all.
Trelawney had pointed to complicated maps of stars and planets to explain her theory.

"Look! When the sun, moon, and earth are on one line, and the earth knows darkness even by day, you will fall victim to calamity! Venus indicates that it may be lethal!"
Harry knew better then to take the prediction seriously. If everything she said came true, he would have died several times already.
Divination had been good for two things: homework and a good mood.

"Just the first day and she gave us homework already!" Ron complained while they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. "Maybe you should tell her that you are too busy preparing for the solar eclipse and that you have no time for homework."

Harry smiled again. "Maybe I should."

Most of the students were already in the Great Hall when they arrived and the tables were pretty fully. Hermione was kind enough to save them a seat.
"How was Divination?" she asked when Harry and Ron had sat down across her.

"Great," Ron answered sarcasticly. "The most exciting part of the class was when she foretold that Harry would get seriously, if not fatally, wounded during the solar eclipse."

"The solar eclipse is in two weeks, if I'm not mistaken," Hermione said. She seemed to be a bit surprised.

"Is it? Well it's not like anything is going to happen," began Harry. "If every prediction of hers had come true, I would have died several times already."

Ron laughed and Hermione looked at him disgustedly. "You really should swallow your food before you laugh, Ronald."

"Who is the new defense teacher?" asked Harry suddenly. Since he hadn’t been at the feast yesterday, he had missed the announcement.

"Lupin." Hermione pointed at him.

Harry looked at the table where all the teachers sat. There, next to McGonagall, sat the werewolf who had previously taught at Hogwarts during Harry third year.
Lupin's eyes met Harry's and Harry suddenly felt his good mood melt away, like snow in front of the sun. A smile appeared on the werewolf’s face. His late godfather’s best friend looked well, although Harry thought that he saw a shadow in the older man’s eyes.
Harry turned his gaze away from the man, knowing that he was responsible for the shadow in Lupin’s eyes. Because of Harry, Lupin's good friend was dead. For the first time Harry realized that he wasn't the only one who was suffering from the loss of Sirius.

How could he have been so selfish? Because he thought the visions were real, because he wasn't strong enough to keep his mind closed, Sirius died. Because of him Lupin lost a dear friend.
Harry swallowed, trying to suppress the rising guild and sorrow, but failed. The little food that lay on his plate, suddenly looked revolting. There was only one way to rid himself of these tormenting emotions: his knife.
Without hesitation, he stood up, excused himself to Hermione and Ron with a lie about a forgotten DADA text, and left to find a peaceful place to cut away the terrible feelings that were overwhelming him.
He didn't have to think long to come up with a quiet place where no one could catch him with his knife: the Room of Requirement.

The Room had taken the form of a bathroom, minus the toilet. The walls and floors were paved with cold, white tiles. There was a large mirror in a golden frame above the sink. The Room was cold but in way comforting; Harry liked the coldness of the room. It made him relax. For a moment he stared at himself in the mirror. His emerald eyes were sparkling and his skin looked healthy, but Harry knew that it was just a mask. Underneath the mask his eyes were dead.
Carefully he took the knife from the bottom of his bag. His caressed the knife as though it was the most precious object he possessed. Perhaps it was because without it, he wouldn't be able to function. Without it there was no way to get rid of his emotions and they would just pile up inside of him and cause depression.
He took the knife in his left hand and pressed the cold blade just underneath his right shoulder. For a moment he hesitated. This was the first time he was going to cut so soon after a prior session.
Is my addiction getting worse? He wondered. Just this once. It's not that I can't keep in under control. Just this once.
He pressed harder on the knife and it sliced into his skin. The cut and the stream of blood disappeared quickly underneath his Glamour Charm but still he could feel his emotions flood away. It felt good.
He sat down on the cold tiles starting at the wall, enjoying the numbness and hoping it would last for the rest of the day.

                                                                                                                    

Lupin was sitting at his desk in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, watching the 6th year students read the theory behind the non-verbal spells.
His thoughts drifted away from the classroom and he caught himself watching Harry more than the other students. He was worried about the boy. Harry looked very healthy: his eyes were sparkling with life, he had no dark circles underneath his eyes indicating that sleeping problems, he wasn't skinny.
It surprised Lupin after all that had happened last year he looked so well. In the letters the Order had received was no indication of grief or anger and that worried him.

How did he deal with Sirius dead? wondered Lupin.

He had been heartbroken and angry for weeks. Fifteen years ago he lost all his friends: James was killed, Sirius was a traitor and murdered Pettigrew, or so everyone believed. Three years ago he found out the truth and that the rat and the dog were still alive and then about three months ago he lost Sirius again.
Lupin had a bad feeling that there was something odd going on with Harry, but he couldn't see what. He was acting normal and he looked normal. Perhaps he should keep an eye on the boy and hopefully his subconscience was wrong.
After a minute or ten the students started to talk to each other and indicating they had finished their reading.

"Is anyone still reading?" Lupin asked the students. When no one answered, he continued. "Does everyone understand how this technique of spell casting works?"

"I have a question sir," said Seamus Finnigan.

"Yes?"

"Can you use this method with every spell?"

"With most spells," began Lupin. He walked around the classroom while explaining. "Some spells, mostly dark spells like the Unforgivable Curses, need the strength of the words to be cast probably."
Lupin paused for a moment to let his words sink in, then continued. "It's also important than you are capable of casting the spell while using words. If you cannot properly cast a spell while using words, you will fail to cast it non-verbally as well, unless you are a talented non-verbal spell caster, which is rare. Any other questions?"

"Good," he said, when no one responded. "Don't be disappointed if you don't manage to cast a non-verbal spell this lesson, we will have many more lessons to practise. When you have found a partner, pick the spell which you think is the easiest to cast, but please, I don't want this room to turn into a battlefield."
Lupin flicked his wand in the air and the desks and chairs moved to the side of the room making plenty of place to practise.

                                                                                                                    

Harry teamed up with Ron.

"What spell are you going to pick?" Ron asked after they had claimed one of the corners of the classroom.

"Expelliarmus," answered Harry. "I use it a lot and it won't harm you."

Ron nodded. "Now I have to pick a spell."

"Use the same?"

Professor Lupin walked towards them. "What spell are you going to use?" he asked.

"We were thinking to disarm each other," started Harry without looking Lupin in the face. He was afraid of what he would see in the werewolf’s eyes and what the werewolf would see in his.

"An excellent choice." Professor Lupin turned towards the class and raised his voice. "If you can't think of a suitable spell, disarm each other."

Professor Lupin left them to practise and went to help other pairs.

"You first," said Ron.

Harry nodded, pointed his wand towards Ron and focused on the spell. The book had described that you had to say the spell mentally akin to saying it verbally. He tried to direct all his thoughts towards the spell, but in the back of his mind a shadow was claiming a part of his attention.
As he tried to ignore it, the shadow grew bigger, trying to engulf his thoughts and emotions. The shadow of horrible memories tried to take over, but Harry wouldn't allow it..
Mentally he screamed the spell and a jet of scarlet light escaped Harry's wand, disarming Ron and throwing him backwards against the wall. His wand flew into the air and Harry caught it with ease.

"Blimey," said Ron while he got up again, rubbing his sore back.

The class was silent and they all were watching Harry who felt very uncomfortable. He hated the attention they gave him, when the only thing he wanted was to remain in the shadows as far away from everyone he could.

"Good Harry!" Professor Lupin smiled at him, obviously very proud. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

Harry looked away from the werewolf, wondering why he had earned the points. He just did what was asked of him and in the process he had hurt a friend. Was that good?
No, thought Harry bitterly. The only thing I can do well is disappoint and hurt people. I'm a terrible friend.

Harry was the only one who managed to cast a powerful spell without using words during the class. Hermione managed to cast a wordless spell herself, but it wasn't strong enough to disarm Neville. Ron had started to whisper the spell after serveral tries but Lupin had noticed, so Ron recieved no credit for his attempts. Harry had knocked Ron into the wall a few more times because Professor Lupin asked him to demonstrate.

"My back hurts," complained Ron when the class was over. "Can you use it on someone else next time?"

"Sorry," mumbled Harry.

"It's harder than I thought," started Hermione. "The instruction made it sound easy. How did you manage to succeed the first time?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just concentrated on the spell."

"That’s what I did! Maybe I wasn't as concentrated as I thought. Let's find an empty classroom and practise a bit Ron;"

"If you promise me that you won't knock me into the wall."

"I guess I’ll see you guys later then," Harry said.

Everyone except Harry needed to practise the non verbal spell casting. Hermione and Ron disappeared into an empty classroom to practise, but Harry presumed that they were not only going to practise non-verbal spells.
Harry decided to take a walk around the Black Lake to clear his thoughts. The weather was really nice. It was hot and the sky was cloudless. The leaves of the trees were dancing in the late summer breeze.

Harry was still angry with the Headmaster. He was angry because Dumbledore had kept the prophecy from him so long and he was angry because he was the one who had to kill Voldemort, or die trying.
Why him? The only thing he ever wanted was to be a normal boy with normal problems. He didn't want to worry about how to defeat the strongest dark wizard of his time. But he was not normal and he never would be. His uncle made that very clear to him. He was a freak, a waste of space, and he cost his uncle a lot of money.

Harry sat down at the edge of the lake, staring into the deep, dark water, remembering how cold it was when he had to save Ron from the mermaids almost two years ago. He also remembered how Voldemort returned at the graveyard during the third event. His sleep was haunted by nightmares about it, where his parents, Cedric and other victims blamed him for their deaths. They said it was his fault that Voldemort was back. The blood that was on Voldemort’s hands, was also on his.

Harry swallowed hard, a single tear trickled down his cheek. No! Thought Harry angerly. Crying is for the weak. I am not weak! He wiped the tear away, knowing if someone saw it, he would be punished. The weak needed to be punished. It was his fault that all of this happened, and he had to live with it. It was his burden and he had to bear it.He couldn't afford to be weak. He had to be strong. How else did he expect to defeat Voldemort?

The guilt and grief were trying to suffocate him. He had to get rid of the feelings. Before taking the knife from out his bag, he looked around to see if he was really alone. Like he had so many times before, he held the cold blade of the knife against his skin. After looking around for a second time to make sure he was alone, he pushed the knife carefully through his skin. It made a very small cut that vanished immediately underneath the Glamour Charm.
A small scarlet stream of blood ran over his arm. For a moment Harry looked at it. It felt good, but not great. The suffocating feeling abated, but he didn't felt numb. Should he cut deeper?
Harry decided to move to the Room of Requirement, it was safer there. He took his wand, used a cleaning spell he found in his charm book on his knife and his arm. The blood was gone.
He played a bit with the knife he had gotten from Sirius. The blade reflected the sun light which made it look even more beautiful.

"Potter!"

He jumped at the mention of his name, dropping the knife in the grass. Quickly he picked up the knife, stood up and turned around.
Before him stood Snape. With a shock, Harry realized that the man his dark emotionless eyes were directed towards the knife he held in his hands.

How long was he standing there? Harry thought anxiously. Had he seen what I was doing? Where did he come? He wasn't here a few moments ago.

Snape's eyes shifted from the knife to Harry’s face. "Why by Merlin's beard are you toying with a knife Potter?"

The Potions Master sounded very angry but Harry didn't know what to say, because he didn't know what the man knew.
Why was I so reckless to cut here where everyone could see me?

"Potter!" spat Snape. "Answer me! Where did you get that knife!"

"Sirius," whispered Harry.

"Give it here," said Snape and without waiting for Harry to give him the knife, he pulled it out of the boy’s hand. "20 points from Gryffindor for walking around school grounds while playing with a knife!"

Harry stared at Snape, not daring to say anything to the git, afraid he would be punished.
The Potions Master shot him one last angry glare, turned away and walked towards the castle leaving an angry Harry behind.