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Survivor's Guilt	By : SpeedyTomato Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 34080 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money of this dark dance of Harry Potter fanfic.

Chapter List
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Chapter 29

Letting out a shaky breath, Harry glanced at the podium where Minerva was talking then to Dr. Netherwood. It was almost time and he had a case of nerves he didn't know what to do with. He was determined, though, and would go through with this. He knew what this legislation meant and the good it could do, so something needed to give it the final kick in the direction they wanted it to go. It was him that could do that. It didn't mean it was easy, though.
“Are you alright, Harry? Other than nerves?” Roddy asked his client softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I'm good, just nervous as hell about this,” Harry told him with a short nod as he kept an eye on Minerva. She was into the part about the legislation and talking about how many they had lost by now, something he knew was towards the end of her speech. And he was the last that would go on. That had his insides quivering.
“You don't have to do this if you don't want to,” Roddy told him gently.
“I want to,” Harry told him with a determined bent to his voice. “I need to, honestly. It's going to help so many, including myself, if I do this. I'll be fine once I get going here. It's just the waiting to start is all.”
“I understand,” Roddy told him with a smile and a nod. “I'm going to stay right here. If you feel overwhelmed, look at me. You know where Lucius, Draco, Dudley and the Weasleys are all sitting. If you need to look at someone and focus there, glance in that direction.” Lowering his voice, he asked, “Do any of them know you're doing this?”
“They don't,” Harry admitted. “They know I'm up to something here, just not what. I haven't told anyone as I wanted to make sure I could go through it. No point in getting their hopes up if I couldn't pull it off.”
“Completely understandable,” Roddy said, keeping an eye on the podium as Minerva wound down her speech. “Just shut your eyes and take deep breaths. It won't completely relax you, but it'll help.”
Doing that, Harry tried to focus on what could come out of the speech rather than his nerves about it. Not to mention away from all the painful memories that were associated with so much around here. That he needed, desperately, because they kept creeping in.

Listening, distractedly, to Minerva's speech, Lucius kept giving approving internal nods at what she said. She was masterful in what she was doing and it would only help. Unable to stop himself, though, he kept glancing around, wary. Already, he and Draco had been getting some malicious looks. No one said anything, of course, but they were there. The fact that they were surrounded by the Weasley clan and Dudley helped tremendously. Molly and Arthur, both, made it clear to everyone that anything untoward said to them they would take offense at. That helped. It also assisted that Harry had been here talking to all of them beforehand.
Leaning back in his chair when Molly, who was seated behind him, whispered his name, he asked, keeping his voice down, “Yes?”
“Do you have any idea what Harry's up to? He said he was doing something or other, but wouldn't tell us,” she fretted, glancing around. “I know events such as this are nerve-wracking and, what with all he's dealing with, this has to be hard, but it seems more than that. I was hoping you might know something, Lucius.”
Sighing, Lucius shook his head then told her, “I don't. I wish I did, truthfully. He is planning something, he's said that, I just don't have a clue what it may be. The only thing I do know for sure is he plans to make it clear that any event after this for a commemoration he won't attend. The only reassurance I can give is that he assured me he's going to talk to Dr. Netherwood before and after he takes the podium. The man isn't apt to let Harry do something that will cause a setback.”
“Good,” Molly said with a relieved nod. “Oh, I wish he had told someone so we could prepare or help here.”
“We all do,” Dudley whispered, shaking his head. “I tried getting it out of him, but he wouldn't budge an inch on it. All he told me is I had to wait like everyone else. This has me worried.”
“Any idea at all why he wanted me and Astoria to come?” Draco asked softly, glancing between his father and Dudley. “I would have, of course, as he asked, but when I inquired about why he wouldn't say.”
“I don't know that either,” Lucius sighed. “He wouldn't tell me.”
“He better not be up to one of his hare-brained grandiose stunts like in the past. I might have to hex him if he does that,” Draco said, folding his arms over his chest.
“You would have to wait in line to take your turn,” Lucius said, straightening up as Minerva finished her speech. “Whatever it is, we're about to find out. It's his turn.”
Leaning back in her chair, wringing her hands, Molly said, “Oh, Harry, don't do anything foolish.”

Taking the podium, heart hammering in his chest, Harry looked around and waited for the ovation to stop. Looking where he knew Lucius was, his eyes locked on his lover and he gave a brief nod when he saw that pinched look that told him the man was apprehensive about what was going on. He just hoped that would be alleviated soon.
When the applause died down, Harry looked around the crowd then started, “From the beginning, I want to say that this milestone will be the last one I attend. For me, and so many others, celebrating this anniversary is horrible and invokes memories that are incredibly painful. For so many of us, it's not a celebration of the end of a terror that gripped our world for so long, but reliving the pain for so much. At some point, those of us who were involved with this battle need to step back and move on.” Gesturing to the shimmering walls off to the one side of the podium that held the names of everyone that died in the Final Battle, he said, “To so many of us, those are more than just names. We knew them. While some we knew better than others, the fact that we did and we lost them to a maniac's quest for a fanatical vision of what he wanted is a painful reminder. On those walls are only some of the names that are gone to a war that stretched on longer than most wanted to admit and plenty denied until they no longer could. I, alone, lost so many that were more than friends, they were family, that it's painful to come and look then seen tangible evidence that they are gone. Just because the cause was just and good, doesn't make the fact that they are gone any easier at times. It's just another reminder of the cost of a war that will never fully go away. That's not only to those that do remember them, but those that don't, like family and children they never really knew.”
Looking around, heart hammering in his chest, Harry nervously straightened his notes then said, tone strong, “While those that died on these grounds that night ten years ago are what we're here to remember, there are more that aren't listed. Those that died here, all the speakers before me discussed. I don't think, honestly, I can add any more to what they said other than that they are missed by all of us who remember them. What I do want to talk about, though, are those that aren't mentioned and are only whispered about; the ones that are just as much victims of this mess as any that died in that last battle. After it all ended, they fought a battle most will never understand and lost it, taking their own lives.” Looking around when he heard the loud murmurs, Harry's face took on a determined look then pressed on.
“I've heard all that's been said about these people over the years. How they were weak, something was wrong with them and our world is better off without them if they would do something like that.” Stopping, he looked around then said, tone firm and strong, making sure it was loud enough that everyone could hear and wouldn't be able to misinterpret what he said, “You're wrong. That line of thinking is wrong.”
“Oh, no,” Molly breathed, hands flying to her mouth. “He's not doing this!” Shaking her head, she didn't know what to do.
“Lucius, mate, this might not be a real good idea,” Dudley told him, slightly panicked, sure where this was going.
Eyes locked on Harry, Lucius said, softly, “Let him go. He knows what he's doing. Whatever he has planned is something he thought long and hard about. If he can't handle it, Dr. Netherwood will step in.” With that, his own gut was clenched and he was mentally begging Harry not to do this if he couldn't handle it.
Tapping the list everyone had accumulated of those who had committed suicide since the battle, Harry displayed it behind him, making sure it was large enough that everyone, even all the way in the back, could see it. Glaring around, he said, “I knew these people. Almost every single one of them on this list. Some of them very well. Some were in my house at school. One I even shared a dorm with. There was nothing weak about them, nothing. They were in pain, suffering and couldn't handle what happened. There was no way to get them the help they desperately needed to cope with what they were dealing with. In the absence of that, they took the step they did. What they did had nothing to do with weakness! Nothing! They fought as hard as anyone else in a battle that was horrific to witness and deal with.”
“Those who are weak are the ones that cowered behind closed doors and wrung their hands over the situation, not bothering to step up to help when it was desperately needed. Letting 'everyone else' handle it while moaning about how bad it was at the time was weak. Fighting a battle, then continuing to fight it for years afterwards because of the pain it invoked wasn't weak. Weakness is clinging to an outdated thinking that's doing more harm than good because admitting that it's wrong is hard. If you admit it's wrong, you have to change it. Weakness is not doing that and clinging to a mentality of burying your head in the sand is the same kind of weakness that allowed what went on to continue when it came to this war. Being in pain and suffering isn't weak. It isn't weak to get to a place where you can't help yourself anymore after battling it as long as you can. It's weak to not put something in place to where people in that shape can get help. It's weak to allow so many to continue to suffer because of a mere prejudice. And that's what we've all done. Every last one of us. We've attached a stigma to suicide and mental illness that hampers getting people help. And we are all to blame for that as we've allowed it to continue.”
Stopping, he looked around, hearing the loud murmurs and disgruntlement then held his head high. Looking at the back few rows, seeing the panicked look on so many faces as they were figuring out what he was doing, he then locked eyes with Lucius. Quietly, he said, though making damned sure his voice could be heard, “And last year, just as everyone was pressing forward with the 'celebrations', forcing those of us that lived through this to relive some of the most painful moments of our lives, one more name was almost added to this list. And I dare anyone to say this person is weak.”
Eyes locked on the crowd, he pointed his wand at the list and scrawled out his own name. Hearing the loud gasps and talking over that as he made damned sure it was easily readable, he looked around. Chin up, he said, “Yes, me. I tried to kill myself. It wasn't a cry for attention or something that was a ploy. I planned to die. The pain had become too much. The deaths I felt I was responsible for weighed heavily on me and I couldn't shake them. Cedric Diggory, my godfather, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Fred Weasley, Dobby, the list goes on and on. I thought it was all my fault. I watched friends targeted because they were my friends. I watched people die. I watched more suffering than most of you sitting here could ever imagine. And I carried every bit of it with me for years. After all, I was the great hero that could do no wrong and wasn't supposed to have any problems. I did, though. Big ones. Every day I lived with flashbacks of horrific things that I had seen. I watched those I loved die over and over again. I relived walking through the Great Hall at Hogwarts, seeing the dead bodies on the floor, some of whom I considered family, as I made my way to my own death in the forest. All of that never left me. I got to relive it every day for the last ten years. And I could take no more.”
“I couldn't sleep a full night, and hadn't for months before I took that step. Every time I slipped from a doze into a real sleep, nightmares of what I went through woke me up. I couldn't sit and have a conversation with friends without the most innocuous of things triggering flashbacks. I didn't want to eat. I took no pleasure in anything. The only reason I went out of my house most days was because my cousin would have bodily forced me to go somewhere or driven me crazy pestering me if I didn't, something I didn't have the energy to deal with. I drank too much. My whole world was shades of black and grey. I kept thinking that I was just a burden to all those that knew me; that I caused them nothing but pain and everyone would be better off without me. That I should have moved on so long ago when I had the chance. All I kept hoping was to go to sleep and never wake up again. Until the pain grew so great that the only solution I saw was to end my life.”
Stopping, Harry looked down and took a deep breath then pressed on, looking back up. He ignored the startled looks and the crowd twittering, sounding aghast. Focusing on those he cared about and who cared for him, he pressed on, “On top of that, I heard all that was said about what I was planning. And I believed that. I assumed I was weak because I knew no way to make the pain stop myself and didn't know where to get help. And those that cared about me couldn't get me help either, though two knew how bad it was.”
Stopping, he looked around and said, “Two people did all they could. Two people understood what was going on. My cousin, Dudley Dursley, a Muggle, had more understanding of what was needed than most of you. There was nothing he could do, though. I don't reside in the Muggle world, so he couldn't get me help there. And there are no laws in place in ours to do anything. He was left with no options but to sit and watch me spiral downwards then help the best way he knew how. There was one other. And I will give him the credit he deserves for this. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here. Lucius Malfoy was the one that literally dragged me back as I was trying to end my life. He put himself in danger and risked dying right along with me to stop me from killing myself.” Hearing the uproar over that, though not as loud as it normally would be, Harry smiled and said, “Yes, that Lucius Malfoy. The former Death Eater. He stood right alongside my Muggle cousin and did everything in his power to get me help, including consulting with a Mind Healer to see what could be done. There was nothing.”
Lowering his voice, Harry said, quietly, though ensuring he was heard, “Lucius is my friend. I rightly don't care how any of you feel on the topic. He did what he did for no gain for himself. He got nothing out of it but accusations that he was up to something. I believe there was one thing that was a small motivating factor; Narcissa. She left the world the same way the others on the list behind me did. And she wasn't weak either. Narcissa Malfoy was the only reason I was able to get back into the castle to end the life of Voldemort.” Hearing the familiar gasps over the name, Harry snorted then said, “Quit that! He's dead. He's been dead for a decade and isn't coming back. Don't let the power of fear over a mere name cow you!” Shaking his head, he pressed on, “Narcissa Malfoy was the one that was told to check on me to ensure I was dead after Voldemort 'killed' me. I was very much alive when she knelt down and asked me where her son was. When I told her he was still in the castle, she stood up and lied directly to Voldemort, telling him I was dead. That took plenty of courage. Most of you sitting here couldn't have faced the man in any way, let alone lied to him. She did.”
Sitting there, Draco stiffened up and his eyes widened. This was something he never knew. Quietly, not sure what to think, he whispered to his father, “Is that true?”
Reaching out and patting his son's leg, eyes still locked on Harry, Lucius said, softly, “Yes.”
Feeling his eyes sting, Draco looked down, his heart clenched painfully. Quietly, he thanked Potter for that as it would now be something he would remember for as long as he lived. Silently, he thanked his mother as well and told her he loved her. Feeling Astoria take his hand, he gave it a squeeze, holding it tightly.
Scanning the crowd, Harry pressed on. “Two people so many of you look down on are the reason I'm here. The only ones. They are ones so many feel are beneath you, but understood what so many of you refuse to see; that this is about pain and being unable to help yourself. It's not about weakness. It's time the rest of you learned that lesson as well. We, as a society, tend to see ourselves as better than Muggles in almost every way. However, those lesser beings are far ahead of us in this area. They know what this is and have plenty of campaigns to highlight what it is and how to get help. We don't. If we had that, Lucius and Dudley might have been able to get me help before I took the step I did. Since then, those two people have helped me in more ways that I can ever count. They have been by my side since then and did all they could, though it was probably among the hardest things they ever did.” Stopping, he glanced to where Dr. Netherwood was standing. Seeing the small smile on the man's face, he said, “Them and my Mind Healer, Dr. Netherwood. This has been a hard battle for me to fight,” Harry said, turning back to face the crowd. “It's not over either. I'm in a far better place than I was at this time last year, but it's not over yet. I have a long way to go when it comes to dealing with the demons that plague me. The difference now is that I have the tools to fight those battles once more. And if it wasn't for the help I got, I wouldn’t be able to.”
Shifting around, Harry looked at his notes then back to the crowd. Firmly, he said, “It's time our society pulls its head out of where it's firmly lodged and do the right thing. It's time we all learn about depression, mental illness and what causes suicide then do something to stop it. We've lost so many to it already, a large chunk of the generation that ended a maniac's reign over our world. We can't afford to lose any more. And if you continue to spout the nonsense about being weak, I dare you to go live through what I did. I dare you to go face Voldemort time and again. I dare you to walk into a forest to meet the man knowing you're walking to your own death. I dare you to live through what I did. Let's see how well you manage. Until you can do all that, something most can't because they didn't even have the courage to fight back when it became apparent who was taking over, don't tell me what weakness is. I am many things, some of them aren't good and I admit to them, but I am not weak, despite the fact that I have weaknesses like anyone else.”
“We all have weaknesses. Needing help dealing with problems we have isn't one of them, even if they are mental ones. It's time our world understands that. It's time all of you understand that. It's past time we educate our world about what this is really about. And it's time we put something in place to get people like me help before it's too late. Because if it wasn't for Dudley and Lucius, it would have been, I guarantee that.” Pointing to the list over his shoulder, he said, “Those are a list of victims that never should have happened. They are the ones we might have been able to prevent if we weren't so backwards in this area. For those of us who knew them, we knew what they could do and our world is far poorer for its loss because of a mere outdated, prejudicial idea. They could have done so much to help us, but didn't have the chance because we failed them. It's time to stop. It's time we put laws into place to help those that are in the place I was so we can give them a chance. It's time we educate ourselves about what causes suicides and take steps to prevent them. Most of all, it's time to stop letting so many people die.”
Gathering his notes, he looked around, seeing the stunned looks then nodded, before stepping away. It was then the applause started. He wasn't sure where it began, but it quickly became thunderous as people stood. Smiling, he turned to make his way off the stage when he was met by a slightly tearful Minerva. Looking at her, he nodded and said, quietly, “I hope I helped. Maybe that can push the votes you need.”
Giving her former student a tight hug, she patted him on the back and said, quietly, “I think it may have. Thank you, Harry.”
Hugging her back, he said, “Nothing to thank me for. It's time they woke up.” Pulling back, he looked at the applauding, smiling Dr. Netherwood and nodded. When Minerva let him loose, he stepped off the stage then said, quietly, to his Mind Healer, “I'll talk, but I want to go see Lucius and the others first.” Seeing the man nod, he made his way towards where the ones he was closest to were.
After receiving hugs from a tearful Molly and several others, he looked at Lucius and said, “I want to go home. I promised to talk to Dr. Netherwood, but I don't want to do it here.”
Putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, Lucius gave it a squeeze then said, “That's fine.” Lowering his voice, he said, “That took more courage than most will ever know.”
“No, it didn't,” Harry said. “It's called doing what's right. That law needs passed. I know that better than anyone. This will help.” Looking at the beaming Dudley and others, he said, “Why don't we all meet at Grimmauld Place. I'll talk to Dr. Netherwood for a bit, then we'll have something to drink.” Grinning, he added quietly, “And I think that stunt earns me the right to see you in those pajamas I bought you for Christmas.”
Snorting, smirking, resting a hand on Harry's back, Lucius said, softly, “I think it may.” Guiding the young man away, making sure everyone else was following, Lucius was pleased. Now this was his Harry.
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Survivor's Guilt