Lies In The Act Of Truth

Chapter One: Cold To The Touch

"Can You Feel It? Help Me To Feel It Too"

Harry lay in the dusk of night. His eyes fluttered open lazily as he awoke and sat up in bed remembering where he presently presided. Sitting in the bed for a number of minutes gazing out of the room's window into the darkness that had surrounded the moon. Catching the thoughts which collectively polluted his mind with various images and theories that held no importance or significance in his life. Harry felt a sudden tinge of pain in one of his legs, his hand slowly traced under the white bedsheets to the area that he thought was the source of the pain. This pain was a numbness that was different to the soreness that Harry attained after a Quidditch match or training session. "Always happens after the act" Harry thought to himself with a grimace expression upon his face that expressed the estrangement and isolation he felt from his own existence to the world.

Harry could have remained in that same position for a while longer but understood that even though he desired to remain in his current state, eventually he would have to return to the world in which he lived: or partly chose to dwell in. He had amends to make, not with other people but with himself and there was no way of escaping this. The past couple of months had been a spiral that had transfixed to Harry's life and abused it in numerous ways that it has become more perverse than Harry could have ever imagined. Harry reflected on his time at Hogwarts and came to the conclusion that in the last five years even though he had found a haven that he could remotely call home, there was something that was missing, a great unknown that had been ripped from Harry's soul and forced him down this road of his own accord. Choices he had made in the past months clouded every emotion within Harry to the extent that he felt like a shell with its owner in another time. "Another life, another problem" Harry whispered to himself as he turned towards the bed side table and began to look for his glasses.

Still in darkness, Harry began to trace his hands across the various objects that were held upon the table in complete silence...an alarm clock...an empty glass which previously held water...an ipod...and finally Harry hands rested upon his oval rimmed black lenses that had become his common trademark along with his acute scar on his forehead that was achieved when Voldermort attacked him all those years ago as a young child resulting in the death of his parents. Harry would eternally despise Voldermort for the barbaric murder of his parents of which Harry had no ability to halt. However, the same couldn't be said for the death of Cedric Diggory at the hands of Voldermort at last year's Tri-wizard tournament, as some thought when honestly Harry had to admit he was defenceless and in fact Cedric died saving him and he wasn't the cause for the young wizard's death even though it felt like it. A huge guilt which still remained on Harry's shoulders, placed upon the rest of his burdens which Harry thought was the carrying of the weight of the world. Harry immediately recalled the day of Cedric's funeral, he hadn't seen so many people in his life, students from all wizardry schools seemed to be there attending the funeral of a great falling solider who had died under the evil of 'He who shall must not be named'. Cho in particular, was distraught at the funeral and spent most of the time crying and being comforted by friends including Hermoine and Luna. Any time Harry locked eyes with her he saw a great deal of loss in her eyes and a sense of being alone which Harry could relate to on more than one level. Harry knew that deep down Cho wished that it was him that died and not her beloved Cedric. Not even Dumbledore could remove this thought in Harry's mind which brought him deeper into depression with him slowly losing emotional and spiritual touch with all the people around him that supposedly loved him. "If only they could see me now and look into me and see the truth of my mind and heart" Harry thought. Surrounded by all these people but forever alone.

There was only another that Harry felt even a flicker of hope or existence with and he couldn't bring himself to think or utter the name as it was followed by the thought that although this person was the only one that partly understood him, his angel of darkness, the origins of all his desires and wonders, this person was the one that possessed and was everything that Harry hated about himself and the world. Continuously supplying him with all the satisfaction ever known to mankind but at the same time revulsion, despair and hatred in thousands of different ways. Harry wished that he was still the young boy who was marvelled by the world of wizardry all those years ago but knew dwelling on the past wouldn't rescue his dwindling life.

The room in which the bed Harry sat in was of no particular size, adorned with the typical teenager necessities which Harry could see as he placed on his glasses. No place like home huh?, Harry thought already knowing the answer to his own question. A sudden scent filled Harry's nose, an all too familiar one, this room always smelt like this. A dank, dirty odour filled with impurity clouded the room with a musty smokescreen. Harry wasn't surprised by this as he glanced onto the dark carpet with was covered with books, left over food and dirty laundry. Pig, was the one word that came into his head. The surroundings reminded him of his best friend Ron, his room was alike this room in more ways than one. The loyal Ron, Harry pressed in his mind. You used to always be there for me, but now you've turned on me, I feel like I hardly know you or myself any more. Tears began to fall from Harry's eyes, these tears weren't of joy but of total reluctance to want to live and the retched heartache Harry continued to feel by just living. It had been only two weeks since Harry contemplated suicide but deterred from this as he sought last minute comfort and understanding from the one that really knew him. Still wondering why he didn't end his existence there in then, Harry began to snap out of his trance and looked once more at the room he couldn't seem to leave. There were various posters on the walls of the current popular boybands that didn't match Harry's taste in genres of music. Harry thought, Crap music, good comforting whilst half smiling. This took even Harry by surprise as he hadn't smiled in such a long time. It was a brief moment that appeared and disappeared returning Harry back to how he always felt.

Harry glanced at the clock on the wall, it read 4:AM, it was time that he made a move so he slipped out of the bed not wanting to draw attention to himself. Knowing it would only cause problems and even more deception than he could handle, Harry started scourging the room for his clothes, deciding to leave as quickly as possible. It took a matter of seconds before Harry had found his jeans, t-shirt and shoes as he always left them in the same place for convenience and a speedy escape, the second being technically untrue as he wanted to stay here as long as possible but he would realise that he would be consumed by the lies and corruption and that picking up his self dignity wasn't something he wished to do practically every night however as enjoyable the events previously were. How can I reap pleasure but pain at the same time, Harry asked himself. Harry noticed that he hadn't yet found his underwear as of now, but remembered leaving it close by the bed. Humiliation creped upon his face as he stood in the room spinning around for his missing clothing not wanting to leave any evidence that might spark a shred of suspicion. Deceiving people wasn't easy business but Harry had become exceptionally good at it and could roll lies of his tongue without much of a thought.

Abandoning his search for his missing underwear, Harry silently creped towards the room's door making sure not to make any noise while manoeuvring himself around certain obstacles of the room. Harry was practically at the door, giving a sigh of relief as he would leave undetected. Harry turned whilst at the door to look at the room and its contents reassuring himself that this was the last and final time he would ever be in this position, and that it was the right thing to do but wasn't sure for who even though his ideas upon the matter would soon change once he had reached his destination and reflected or remembered the past events that went on through the majority of the night.

Harry reached out and grasped the door handle and then he heard movement from behind him deeper in the room. A look of horror appeared on Harry's face and nervousness that hoped that it was a figment of his imagination but knew it was reality. Awoken, Harry guessed and tried to block the idea out of his head. A loud yawn filled with satisfaction and bliss echoed throughout the room followed by a huge grin, which wasn't on Harry's face. Harry saw and heard this and became filled him up with revulsion and hatred. Harry cursed more than once and tuned back to the door muttering to himself "Degrading doesn't cover it enough!".