Harry's POV

My footsteps felt heavy and my body seemed to be drained of energy as I walked back to my room; I felt weak and helpless, my previous actions reflecting badly on me. If Phoenix had not been there, I would have easily finished the bottle and only felt worse than I already had.

My room felt smaller than it had before, almost like it was suffocating me, and all I could do was lay on my bed and close my weary eyes. I felt so stupid, like such an idiot; I had a severe problem yet I couldn't even bring myself to help change my life. My coping mechanism was just to ignore things, and that was how I had got into such a state.

"I wish you were here Luna," I whispered into the cold air around me, and my heart sank at the memory of her.

With my eyes closed, I felt like I could almost stroke her bleached hair, running the coarse strands over my fingertips. Her wide eyes burned my memory, the way they had always appeared so vulnerable but also holding so many secrets.

*flashback*

"She'll come back. She will, she's just acting stupid," my mother whispered, her whole body shaking with anxiety as she attempted to hold her tears in her eyes.

My father paced the floor in front of us, only building tension between everyone while policemen investigated the house for any evidence. Luna had been gone for less than twenty- four hours, but I already knew she wouldn't be coming back.

Nevertheless I still comforted my mother, my nine year old self unsure of how to deal with all these adult emotions. Above us, men in uniform searched Luna's room for any evidence or clues as to where she had gone, but I knew that the only thing they would find were her material possessions.

They wouldn't find Luna in there, they wouldn't find a note written by her and their search would be pointless. I already knew where she had gone, she had whispered it into my ear the night she had left and I had vowed to not tell a soul.

At nine years old, I hadn't realised the importance and value of the information I knew. How it could have saved my sister. How that one secret would act as a weight on my shoulders for the rest of my life.

"I'm going to the lake for a midnight swim," she had whispered to me, her breath smelling of an unknown substance but I didn't question it. She was Luna, she always knew best.

*end of flashback*

I had even asked to join her, but Luna was forever acting like a second mother and told me that I wasn't a strong enough swimmer. But, ironically, neither was she.

While my parents searched for clues in her diary and while police roamed the streets, I waited and waited for Luna to return from her midnight swim. I wanted to ask her why she had been gone for so long, and if she could take me the next time she went.

Her body was found two days later, bloated and purple was the way my father described her but I had refused to believe him. Luna wasn't purple, her skin was almost a ghostly white and her physique reminded me of a fairy. The idea of Luna not being there to tell me a bedtime story was incomprehensible to me.

Her cause of death was ruled to be suicide, which I never fully believed. All she had wanted to do was take a midnight swim. My parents sat me down at the table, tears gleaming in both their eyes and told me that Luna was no longer with us.

But while she was not with us physically, her presence hovered over us. And while she stayed with us in spirit, the secret I kept for her haunted me. I would fall asleep every night and wonder what would have happened if I had told her to stay, if I had told mum and dad, if I had followed her.

Years passed like fleeting seconds and I found myself grabbing for the nearest thing I could to Luna- her murderer. Alcohol. It made me forget the burden I held on my shoulders, the death of the person I loved, and the guilt I felt for it.

"It wasn't your fault Harry," I reminded myself, my words echoing off the walls of my room but I didn't believe them.

I had chose to not speak and I would have to carry the consequences of that for as long as I lived. When I drank, I would temporarily forget for a while about what I had done all those years ago; her face wouldn't haunt my thoughts, her voice wouldn't speak to me and I wouldn't picture her laying lifelessly on the top of a rippling lake.

Sometimes, when I was blackout drunk, I would imagine myself laying on the lake beside her and slowly our bodies would submerge under the water. I could almost feel the murky water swallowing me whole, washing over me and pushing me further and further downwards. But all the while, I could feel her hand beside mine, her assortment of rings digging into my skin but it was a comforting feeling.

To me she was the coolest person to ever grace the universe, she embodied every superhero I had read about as well as every princess. And I was to blame for her being stripped of life.

So there's your explanation as to why Harry is the way he is, and it's pretty sad to be honest. Will he share these demons with anyone?

You'll have to wait and see ;)

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