During the second week that Harry was home, his main chore was to clean out the old shed in the backyard. While he was cleaning, he discovered a hidden stash--some muggle drugs that Dudley was hiding--Harry choose to try some of them since nothing else was helping with that empty feeling inside. The long ones, that looked like they were hand rolled, made him feel too out of it. That is to say, if he was attacked he wouldn’t be able to resist, let alone fight anyone.

Maybe I can give old Voldemort some of them, maybe then I actually have a chance at winning.

He kept some anyway because he did like the feeling of them. The rest of the pack was just regular cigarettes; he kept most of them as well.

What would Dudley do anyway, tell daddy that I took his stash; he can just get more anyway. Hell, maybe if I ask, he’ll get me some too…

During that day, while cleaning, he had many thoughts along those same lines. On the bad side that day also give him plenty of time to think about everything that had happened and the nightmares only got worse.

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The only problem was that he had become addicted to the cigarettes within a week; they were the only thing that came even close to helping; even if that help was minimal, it was still help. It was more help than his so-called friends were doing for him. So with the little muggle money that he did have, Harry started buying his own when he could sneak away from not only the Dursleys but Dumbledore’s little Potter Sitters too.

Night had fallen again on Private Dr., in what has become normal, Harry woke up from his nightmare and sought release. With his cigarettes in hand Harry headed out of his “room”, making sure to skip the third step that squeaked, and went out the back door, out the side gate. As soon as he was clear of number 4 he lit up and started walking the path that he knew, his feet just lead him into the park and over to the swings.

This is where he has been ending up every night since the beginning of his holiday. It had become his nighttime routine:
Drink Scotch

Try and sleep

Wake up screaming

Cutting his wrist

Drinking Scotch

Go to the park to smoke and swing

Go “home” at sunrise

Play House-Elf until it started all over again

Normally Harry stayed until sunrise. Most of the time Hedwig would stay and watch over him, trying to tell him that he’s not alone. Once the sun was up, he would head back to his “house” and start making breakfast for his “family”, than a day of chores, and a night of no sleep…

3 Weeks into Summer

Tonight was such a night; Harry couldn’t take the nightmares or the depression anymore after waking up for second time that night to his uncles screaming and the aftereffects of his nightmares. He just had to get out of the house and out of this world, out of every world. Slowly he took the knife to his wrist and cut for each name of each person he saw go threw veil that night.

As normal it started out as just Sirius, than Ron and Hermione together, Cedric, his parents, than all the Weasleys; each in turn blaming Harry for their death, blaming him because he could not save them all. Slowly the knife made deep slices. One for each name. One for each blame. One for each death.

Once he had cut enough times, 15 cuts altogether, Harry wrapped his arms in the cloth and taped it in place. Than proceed to put on a black long sleeve t-shirt to cover anything that he didn’t want shown.

That’s all Harry needed, was for one of Dumbledore’s babysitters to see all the scars on his arms and give him pity, or worse, they would tell Dumbledore. Pity was the last thing that Harry wanted; all he wanted was just to be a normal boy.

With all his scars covered, Harry went to the loose floorboard under his bed and he took out a bottle of scotch, took a swig and then returned the bottle to its place. Next Harry grabbed the pack of cigarettes lying next to it and the lighter that he would need. After replacing the floorboard Harry made his way out of the house.
I can’t wait till I can do magic out of school. It will be easier to heal than, less chance of getting caught,
He thought as he mindlessly made his way to the park and in turn to the swings.

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Harry sat on the swing taking a drag, his newest nightmare replaying in his head and his newest cuts still bleeding into the cloth.

“Alright Potter, I’ve given you enough time to get yourself killed. Go. Back. Home. Now!!!”

Harry looked up and around trying to find where the voice came from. He took another drag off his cig than started talking,

What in the fucking hell are you doing here Snape, did you do something to piss off the old git. That why you have Potter Sitting duty.”

From the shadows came Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts and Harry’s most hated professor. “Langue Potter, now Get Back To Your House” it was said in his quietest voice of a hiss, with a glare that would make a first year cry.

“Fuck off Snape! I’m not scared of you, go back to either of your masters and tell them were I am, tell Voldemort to come and kill me! I don’t care anymore so just fuck off!”

Taking another cig out of the pack and lighting it up, Harry started to swing. Snape stepped back into the shadows, almost completely disappearing; although if you knew he was there you could see him. The only thought that kept him there was that,

Albus would kill me if I left the boy.

He was covering “Potter sitting” for Moody since the Auror’s skills were needed someplace else.

Probably torturing someone who’s to dark for his taste

Even though he was given a warning about Potters nighttime wandering, he still didn’t expect to be sitting outside all night.

Though out the night Harry looked back over into the shadows were Snape was,

It’s odd, why do I feel safer with him here. What is he doing here anyway? Why do I feel safe, it’s entirely his fault that Sirius died; well no its not, it’s my fault that he died…

Soon the sun started rising and Harry made his way back towards number 4. Walking in the backdoor, he started making breakfast, thus starting his fourth week with the Dursleys'.