Harry held onto Neville for so long that his arms were starting to feel numb from how hard he was hugging him but he never let go. After a long time he felt the boy shift as if to move away and he released him slowly.

“Thanks for that,” Neville said hoarsely his eyes still shining bright with his tears.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered in return. How could he be so selfish? How could he think about only himself? The whole reason everyone was grieving was because he suddenly decided he couldn’t handle his life anymore. Why didn’t he see that if he died, he would be missed? He felt so disgusted with himself, wanting nothing more but to tell Neville he was alright.

“What are you sorry for?” Neville asked curiously as he pulled out his handkerchief.

“Never mind,” Harry said with a sigh before turning towards the door and disabling everything. “Come on Neville.”

“Where are we going?” Neville asked softly.

“To my friend,” Harry said vaguely, knowing how much the other boy feared Snape.

“Oh,” Neville said before following after him.

Harry walked silently towards the dungeons; he could feel the other boy shudder from the coolness of it. He himself felt right at home down here, so it didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“Who’s your friend?” Neville asked cautiously.

“Professor Snape,” Harry said as they stood in a front of a portrait.

“N-n-no I…I can’t be h-h-here,” he stammered out.

“Relax Neville, he’s not going to hurt you,” Harry replied gently.

“H-h-he h-hates me,” he replied worriedly.

“He doesn’t hate you, I don’t think. Nonetheless he would never harm a student,” Harry replied with conviction he thought he would never use with Snape.

Harry noticed the boy didn’t reply to that and he quietly said the password before walking inside. He looked around, his ears trying to catch if the Headmaster was still there, but it was silent.

“Uncle Severus, where are you?” Harry called out, gesturing for Neville to close the door.

Frankly Harry didn’t know what else to do, he had caught Neville in the act many times before, but never was he as close as he was today. He could hear the beginning of the spell as he walked in and he thanked his lucky stars for his timing. He would not be giving him back his wand just yet. He idly wondered if Snape could put the charm that would alert him if Harry tried to use the wand against himself on Neville’s wand.

“I’m in my lab Emerson, what did you need?” Severus called out.

“I need to talk to you again,” Harry replied, his gaze kept glancing towards Neville and him slowly inching towards the door.

“Alright give me about 10 minutes and I’ll be done,” Severus replied absently.

“Ok,” Harry answered. “Follow me,” Harry said as he headed towards his room.

Neville swallowed the lump of fear in his throat, wondering what the other boy had planned for him with Snape. He wasn’t scared of Emerson; he knew somehow that the other kid wasn’t going to hurt him. He couldn’t however say the same thing about his Professor. He had had the man attempt to teach him for 5 years and he didn’t put it passed him to hurt him.

 Neville knew exactly how much he sucked at potions, add to the fact that Snape made it worse he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to be here, but he followed Emerson anyways.

Severus wondered idly as he waited on his potion to pass a crucial point before he could throw a stasis charm on it. He was curious to know just what Harry wanted to talk to him about. They had made it perfectly clear that he would not be talking about ‘the incident’. He shrugged as he walked over to wash his hands as he waited. After reassuring himself that his potion would be fine he walked out his lab and headed to Harry room. He knocked once before opening the door to find Harry and the Longbottom boy discussing plants.

“Emerson, you wished to speak with me?” He drawled.

“Um yes sir, I ran into Neville here in a particular position and I didn’t know what to do.” Harry said carefully.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the cryptic words and glared at the boy.

“What particular position Emerson?” He asked quietly.

Harry looked to Neville who was looking at him in fear. He sighed softly, and gave Neville an apologetic look but he turned to answer his teacher. If someone had only told a Professor about how he was really faring then he wouldn’t be in the mess.

“Neville tried to kill himself today,” Harry said bluntly.

“What?” Severus said looking at the Gryffindor boy in disbelief.

Neville was looking like he wished the floor would open up and swallow him, he didn’t like the way his Potions Professor was looking at him.

“Just what I said,” Harry replied quietly.

“Mr. Longbottom, why would you do something like that?” Severus asked carefully, trying to catch the boy’s gaze.

“What I do in my spare time, is none of your business Professor.” Neville said softly.

His heart was thumping fast and hard in his chest. He had never spoken to a teacher this way, least of all Snape. He was feeling something close to rage in his chest. How dare Emerson tell Snape; what the hell gave the boy the right? He was so angry; he had never felt more betrayed. Just because this boy had comforted him, didn’t make him Harry. Harry would never do that to him. He shook away his thoughts, none of that matter because he was dead.

“I beg your pardon Mr. Longbottom,” Severus asked dangerously. This particular boy had never once spoken back to him, and this new development had him on edge. How many more children here had contemplated suicide?

“Nothing at all Professor Snape, if that’s all I will be going now,” Neville said curtly before standing up and trying to make his way around his Professor.

“Not so fast Mr. Longbottom, I don’t believe I gave you a choice in the matter. This is serious business and if you’re doing this for attention then I will see to it that you will be punished.” Severus said angrily, hating the attitude he was getting from the usually quiet child.

“Attention, yes I was planning to take my own life in an abandoned classroom where the entrance was covered in notice me not charms. Attention he says, I was found out before I could complete the job. Why didn’t you let me Emerson?” Neville asked turning his teary eyes towards the boy.

“Because it wasn’t the right choice Neville,” Harry replied softly.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not it was the right choice, it was mine. What gave you the right to take it away from me?” Neville asked brokenly.

“I didn’t wanna lose a friend to a something as senseless as that,” Harry admitted quietly.

“I’m not your friend, I don’t even know you. You’re just some boy who just happened to be there at the wrong time.” Neville said with a shake of his head.

“I was there because you needed me, everyone needs someone Neville. Please let me be that friend,” Harry begged.

“Why, so you can rat me out to Snape again?” Neville asked willing the tears away.

Severus was watching the exchange with wide eyes, Harry had been right. This conversation wasn’t about getting attention. Longbottom really did try to take his own life. Severus looked around the room in alarm; he needed to speak to Albus now!

“Long—Neville, let me see your wand child,” Severus said holding his hand out.

“Why do you need it?” Neville asked tiredly. Leave it to Snape the minute Harry dies, to call him the next attention seeking brat.

“I need to see something, give it to me now. Unless you want to be scrubbing cauldrons for the next 3 days and I’ll still get your wand,” Severus threatened.

Neville glared at the man’s chest before handing over his wand. He watched curiously as the mad preformed a charm over it, one he was unfamiliar with. Neville however wasn’t going to ask what it was though.

“Longbottom, can I trust you not to try to hurt yourself again?” Severus asked in a tone he had never used with this particular boy.

Neville said nothing, for one he was shocked and two, he couldn’t promise something because he knew without a doubt that he would try again. What was the point to his life at all? What was his purpose? He would rather die, then to be tormented everyday for the rest of his life. He wasn’t strong, and he could admit that. Why couldn’t they see that?

“Neville’s in a bad way Professor, you can’t send him away just yet,” Harry said turning to look at the man in shock.

“I wasn’t Emerson; I just need to speak to Albus about this new development. The healers have got to come sooner, rather than later.” He said quickly.

“Can Neville stay here with me today?” Harry asked after a moment.

“He can,” Severus said looking at both boys before making his way to his fireplace.

“Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to think that you can just come in here and ruin my life?” Neville said angrily the minute Snape left the room.

Harry stared back at the boy silently but didn’t say anything. What could he say honestly?

“What are you getting out of this? Just so you know, no one actually cares what happens to me,” Neville said his voice breaking on the last sentence as he knew it was true.

“I care, how many times do I have to say that?” Harry asked softly.

“Until you actually mean it,” he replied tiredly. Just as quick as his anger came it was suddenly gone.

“I mean it, but you don’t want me too. You think you aren’t worth it, that if you suddenly disappeared no one would notice that you’ve left. Trust me when I say that they will see, the moment you’re gone, they will know.” Harry said quietly.

“You talk as if you know what I’m going through,” Neville said with a shake of his head.

“That’s because I do,” Harry whispered.

~*~*~*~Abandoned Corridor~*~*~*~*~

Ron looked up at the blonde boy, not having the strength to even fight, let alone the will to grab his wand. He was so drained.

"I said I was sorry for bumping into you," Ron said trying to make his way around the blonde.

He was grieving as he could see this stupid rivalry thing that they had going on, was pointless. Harry was gone, there was no fight left in him at the moment.

"I don’t care for your stupid apology Weasel," Draco said brandishing his own wand in his hand.

 He wanted a fight, this guilt was becoming too heavy and he needed to duel someone. Weasely always seemed to want to curse him, so this was brilliant. They were also on a floor of the castle where no one seemed to be around. This was the perfect setting for a duel.

"Shut up ferret, just leave me alone," Ron replied, no fight in his voice.

Draco frowned this was not how it was supposed to go. Why wasn’t the redhead pointing his wand at him? Why wasn’t he getting mad?

"What’s the matter Weasel? Too weak to fight me now that Potter is dead? I wonder why he killed himself, is it because he was tired of being friends who was too poor to even own proper school robes," Draco spewed out venomously.

He surprised his own self, but he wanted to share his hurt, and this was the only way he knew how. A part of him was cautioning him not to push the other boy too far, but he didn’t care at that point. He wanted a fight, and he would get one, no matter the consequences.

"How dare you?" Ron yelled out in shock, the hurt so pronounced in his own voice he could hear it himself.

 He wasn’t mad that the blond boy had called him poor that was nothing new, and he was frankly getting used to it.

"What did I strike a nerve weasel? It’s true, Potter went and offed himself," Draco taunted.
"Fuck you Malfoy," Ron said throwing a stunner at the snake.

 He was pissed beyond belief that the jerk would taunt him about Harry's death. What kind of person does that? He was furious and his face showed it. Never mind that the tears were pouring from his eyes, his eyes were only on the blonde. He angrily swiped his eyes as they continued to come, he didn’t care that he looked a sight. The only thing he was focused on was getting the other boy, and making him regret his words. He didn’t particularly care about whether the blonde boy would be ok after this. The Weasely temper was notorious; his mum had made sure of that.

Draco grinned before the spells were suddenly flying, the adrenaline coursing through his body as one barely missed him.

“Is that all you got Weasel? Potter was more of a challenge, but since he’s dead, I only have you to duel with.” Draco said evilly, ignoring the guilt in his stomach in favor of throwing another spell.

Ron’s eyes narrowed, his temper getting away from him before throwing 3 spells back to back. Another stunner, the jelly legs jinx and the Hair loss curse. Only the last one stuck and for that Ron was glad. He had put a lot of power into that one, and no amount of finite incantem would bring back Malfoy’s hair. He smirked at the bald boy across from him who was feeling his head in horror.

“Hey baldy,” Ron taunted easily.

“What the fuck Weasel?” Draco screamed before throwing a cutting curse at the other boy, who dodged it, but barely.

“Is that all you’ve got,” Ron said before throwing an immobilus at the teen, who moved out the way.

“You wish,” Draco sneered before throwing a blasting curse along with another cutting curse.

Ron’s eyes widened as he dodged the blasting curse, but was unable to put up a shield as the cutting curse hit him. He gasped out loud as it hit him in the stomach. He was immediately aware of pain and warmth coming from torso. He looked down to see the blood, and glared at the blonde who was smirking as he looked over him, his wand poised and ready to attack again.

“Langlock,” Ron yelled loudly as he pointed his wand at Draco. He thanked Harry for letting him see the Prince’s spell book and was rewarded when the blonde’s tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

Draco’s eyes widened fearfully as he found himself unable to say or do anything. He mumbled loudly trying to yell finite, but nothing happened. He looked around frantically but of course no one was there.

“Petrificus Totalus,” Ron calmly yelled and was awarded when the boy fell down like a sack of bricks.

He slowly stood up, his stomach bleeding freely, as he limped over to where the blonde boy was staring at him fearfully from his frozen state. He pointed his wand at him, and just stared.

“This is where you wish that Harry was still here.” Ron said coldly, the blood on him making him looked even more dangerous.

Draco didn’t know what to do, there wasn’t much he could. He knew it as did the red head that he was at the lion’s mercy. This was nobody’s fault but his own, he had asked for a fight. The only thing was he hadn’t expected it to turn out this way, and it shown all in his eyes.

“Harry as you know didn’t kill you because Snape asked him not too. He spared you’re life and in return you taunt me, his best friend with it.” Ron said his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

“I bet you’re thinking this can’t be Weasel, because I have never gotten the upper hand without Harry. That is where you are wrong Malfoy,” Ron said conversationally before bending down and placing his wand tip on the blonde’s head.

“What’s to stop me from killing you right now?”

Draco Malfoy’s eyes widened further and he felt himself lose control of his bladder, as he stared fearfully at the lion. He had never expected the red-head to have it in him. He knew that Granger was the voice of reason and Potter was the leader, but what was Weasely?

Ron wasn’t a killer, and he had no intention of starting now. He stared at the blonde boy with an expression that one could only decipher as pity with a hint of disgust.

“I feel sorry for you; you still don’t have a clue about what you did, the part you played in this tragedy. We are all at fault here Draco Malfoy, the only difference is some of us will own up to it,” Ron said shaking his head in disbelief, before standing up. He wasn’t wasting any more time here with the boy who really didn’t get it.

“Good look getting out of that,” Ron said before hobbling away to the infirmary which was the last place he wanted to be.

Draco laid there on the floor, unable to move as his cold pants reminded him of his shameful deed. He still couldn’t move, but that didn’t stop the tears from flowing silently down his face. He hoped someone would come for him, but they were in a corridor that not many people went, and that didn’t bode well for him. He closed his tearful eyes, hoping that the spell would wear off soon.

~*~*~the lake~*~*~*~

Hermione was leaning her head on Blaise’s shoulder, trying to make sense of everything for the moment. She didn’t feel like talking and he knew that, as he had pulled a book from his robes and unshrunk it so he could read. She couldn’t handle the silence today though, why did it feel so loud today? Was it because she was now hiding a secret? What would Ron think when he found out what she had done to herself?

What about Harry—she stilled as she remembered. Harry was dead, so he wouldn’t care now would he. She sighed softly unable to stop her hand from running up her sleeves to press on the freshly made scratches.

Blaise raised an eyebrow in question as he looked up from his book, to look at Hermione. What was she doing? He could see her hand pressing on her sleeve or something? He frowned before turning back to his book, keeping an eye on her as he read.

Hermione was in her own world, as she felt the pain in her arms. This is all she wanted, all she needed; this kept her emotions in check. Why would Blaise not want her to do this? She frowned, she liked being in control, it gave her a sense of calm. She couldn’t control how she felt, as she grieved, but cutting her arm did and she couldn’t see herself making it without doing this.

“Mione what are you doing?” Blaise asked, unable to stem his curiosity. What was so important under her sleeve?

“What do you mean?” She asked, dropping her hands immediately.  

“What are you hiding under there?” He teased as he set his book down.

“Nothing, I was just bored,” she said quickly as she looked at him. She looked down after a moment, unable to keep lying to his face, not after all he was doing for her. Would he leave if he found out she wasn’t as strong as he thought?

“If you’re sure,” Blaise asked carefully. There was alarm bells going off in his heads, but she hadn’t given him a reason to doubt her so he wouldn’t start now.

Hermione nodded, because she couldn’t speak without her voice cracking. Of course she wasn’t sure, why didn’t he look deeper? Why couldn’t he see that all was not well? Why did she hide it from him so, but wished that he would find out? How much of a contradiction was she?

“Blaise, do you think I’m crazy?” Hermione asked softly.

“Never Mione, you’re the furthest thing from it,” Blaise said confidently as he hugged her tight.

Hermione had to wonder about that though. She hurt herself, and granted he didn’t know that but still. If she, who harmed herself, was the furthest thing from crazy, then what did that mean for everyone else?

“I’m sorry Blaise,” Hermione said quietly.

“You haven’t done anything love, you’re fine,” he said soothingly.

She closed her eyes tightly, unable to speak the words that she wanted too. He needed to know, but she knew he would be so disappointed in her, and she didn’t want to let him down. She needed to be strong, to prove that she could handle it, even if she couldn’t. Hermione sighed tiredly, she was tired of the lies, but what could she do? She wasn’t Gryffindor material she couldn’t even tell him, how much of a coward she had been.

“But I have,” she insisted quietly.

Blaise opened his eyes and looked at her in confusion. “What have you done then?”

Hermione shrugged but didn’t answer; she couldn’t make her mouth work no matter how much she felt he should know.

“Hermione,” Blaise said sitting up to look at her closely. He could see the worry lines in her face, and as a Slytherin he was on edge.

“Yes,” she asked quietly.

“What did you do?” He asked in a quiet but firm tone.

“Nothing,” she said chickening out. She tugged on her sleeve unconsciously, unknowingly drawing attention to it.

Blaize narrowed his eyes as he followed hers towards her sleeve. His heart clenched for a moment when he thought he saw something on her arm. He didn’t say anything, what was there to say as he reached over to move her hand. He felt her stiffen instantly, and he took that a bad sign if anything. He looked at her and he could feel the shame radiating from her. He knew whatever it was that he wouldn’t like it, but that didn’t stop him from slowly pulling her sleeve back.