Before we start this chapter I would like to put a few trigger warnings in. There are mentions of self-harm and suicide. Y/N will be having a breakdown in this chapter and if this will affect you please skip this chapter. Please also be warned that these are recurring themes that will happen in later chapters, please take caution reading further chapters if this is something that affects you. Thank you.

Y/N's POV

I would be lying if I said Harry's recent performance in Potions was affecting me. Usually, I would be doing better than him in every subject but now in Potions, he would be on the same level or sometimes even better than me.

Today was a Saturday meaning I had no lessons. I had nothing really planned for the day so I decided that I was going to just go to the Room of Requirement just to clear my mind and potentially do some training because I knew Voldemort would want to have a progress check with me and see if I was still capable of performing such Dark magic.

After breakfast, I made my way alone to the seventh floor where this room was.

"I need a place to practice and clear my mind."

The door immediately started to form and within seconds, I had entered the room. In the room it was filled with a selection of books, some dummies for me to practice on, a couple punchbags, some weights, fitness equipment and just a collection of random items that could be useful for me later.

The first couple of hours I spent working out. I prided myself on staying in shape, I was moderately quite well built, I was muscular but lean at the same time. This would prove useful when duelling, fighting and maybe even running away from everything.

I was doing a selection of cardio and weights until I physically could not do any more. Sweat was dripping down me and I had now taken off my shirt since it was drenched in my sweat. Chucking my shirt to the side I looked around for a towel and since I was in the Room of Requirement, I found it quickly.

After taking a short break and drinking a lot of water, I began my training which involved magic.

What would Voldemort of wanted me to practice? Unforgivable curses? Dark hexes and curses? I wasn't too sure so I stuck to the basics, practicing non-verbal and verbal spells that would help me in any magical fight.

Halfway through, I took another break and started reading one of the books nearby. It inspired me to try create my own spell. There were some famous spells created by famous people that became so well known that it just became a common spell witches and wizards used in the present day.

Miranda Goshawk had her Bat-Bogey Hex that I had seen Ginny use a couple of times. Fred, George and Issac had the Daydream Charm that they had turned into a product. Dolohov had his signature curse that he used, the curse that Hermione fell victim to the end of last year.

And finally, the one that intrigued me the most was Grindelwald's spell, 'Protego Diabolica'. It was a spell that created a protective ring of black around the caster. It was possible to walk through the flames unharmed but it was only possible if the person attempting to walk through was loyal to the caster and meant them no harm. If you weren't loyal, you were burnt to ashes.

Inspired by the witches and wizards that created their own spells, I wanted to create my own. My signature spell that no one could counter, that only I would know of.

I knew that this would be a dangerous and a risky task. I remembered hearing from someone that this was the cause of Luna's mother's death. It was quite scary and quite sad that I wasn't really afraid of it going wrong. It had gotten to the point where I wasn't afraid of death and that I would greet it like a friend.

That was how fucked up my life currently was.

"Think Y/N, think..." I muttered to myself.

What did I want my spell to involve? I wanted to incorporate ideas from Grindelwald's spell but I wanted to make it original so it could represent me as a wizard. I had come to the conclusion that unlike Grindelwald's spell, I wanted to make an offensive spell rather than a protective one.

What would represent me as a wizard? My Patronus was a tiger after my father so I could incorporate that.

After reading a lot of books on the subject. I decided that as well as being an offensive spell, it was going to protect me as well. I read up on something called Fiendfyre, which was advanced Dark magic. I didn't want to resort to Dark magic but I knew that was the only thing that could help me.

My spell was going to consist of a tiger made out of Fiendfyre attacking whoever I wanted but part of it would circle me, giving me a ring of protection similar to Protego Diabolica. However, unlike that spell, no one would be able to cross the fire regardless of whether they were a friend or foe.

Once I had gotten the basic information of the spell sorted, the hard part came, actually trying to figure out the spell.

Countless hours had passed and I had made minimal progress. I now had cuts all over my body, the blood dripping down me. I couldn't give up, I had gotten this far.

I attempted again but it backfired, leaving a deep gash on my wrists.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I yelled, screaming to no one. I chucked my wand down in anger and kicked the table next to me.

"WHY IS THIS SO FUCKING HARD!" I cried to myself.

Not being able to take in anymore, I fell on my knees and cried. The disgusting taste of blood was filling my mouth as well as the taste of my tears.

Why the hell was my life like this? What crime or what thing did I do in my past life that made me deserve a life as shit as the one I was living right now?

"Fuck you Dumbledore, fuck you." I whispered to myself.

I knew I was being selfish but I didn't want to lose my childhood, lose my innocence just so I could be one of Dumbledore's scapegoats. It just wasn't fair.

I stood back up only to punch the bookshelf in front of me, now my knuckles were bleeding. Nearby was a mirror and I looked in and saw a reflection of myself. I was bloody, bleeding and I looked half dead. My H/C hair was platinum blonde and it was messy and dirty, my E/C eyes were lifeless and dark and the scar I had gotten from my fourth year was covered in blood from the cuts on my face.

"You don't have to be here anymore..."

Who the fuck was this?

"It's so easy for you to just leave...you can just give up."

This random voice was right. I could just leave, it was so easy. What was stopping me?

"Who are you?" I asked the empty room.

"I'm your worst enemy."

"Bullshit. I don't have a worst enemy."

"But you do, your worst enemy is yourself Y/N."

So I'm talking to myself? My mind is more fucked up that I thought.

"So why don't you just leave everything behind? What's stopping you? You're half dead already."

I couldn't go, not after the promise I made to Hermione. I couldn't leave her, we still had a life to live. I wanted to live with her, heck I wanted to marry her.

"So she's the only reason you're still alive?"

I nodded even though this voice was inside me. "She's the only reason I'm doing this. She's the only reason I'm still going through with this."

"Make sure you never let her go, without her you'll be too far in that no one can save you. She's your lifeline, don't push her away, otherwise you'll become just like him."

Just like him? So I was going to be the next Voldemort?

"Obviously you don't know shit about me," I said, "I wouldn't be evil."

"I am you Y/N, I know everything about you. I know that there's this part of you, deep down, who actually likes what you're doing, that there's this darkness inside of that you won't be able to hide any longer."

I couldn't deal with this inner voice of mine anymore, so I picked up my wand from the floor and started healing the cuts that could be healed. Since I was dealing with Dark magic, the wounds were harder to heal than normal magic.

I wanted to stop trying to learn my own spell but I didn't. I skipped dinner and instead spent it practicing the spell. Every once in a while I would stop to just scream, let out all the pent up anger and emotions that I had tried to hide all throughout summer. It was a flaw that I had developed, I would hide and push all my emotions away but when they caught up with me I would scream and cry and all my emotions would break me.

I had to motivate myself to learn this spell, the only thing that worked was Hermione. I was going to learn this spell so I could protect both of us from Voldemort and I was going to learn this spell so Hermione would live and survive the inevitable Wizarding War and live the life she always deserved, even if it didn't include me...

On what could've been my thousandth try, I was getting closer and closer but the pain from the failed attempts was starting to consume me. If I failed this try, blood loss would consume me and I would pass out, in the Room of Requirement where no one could find me, left for dead.

"C'mon Y/N, you got this." I told myself.

Composing myself, I took a deep breath. It was all or nothing.

"AMICUS EX INFERNO!"

And by Merlin, I finally got it.