A/N: Hey! Sorry I haven't updated in a really long time. I've decided to try angst. Don't hesitate to give feedback.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
The Day I Died
I remember the day I died. But then again, who doesn't? Unless you were one of the unlucky ones, and died in your sleep. As I've spent more and more time without life, I have realized that death is nothing to be afraid of. It's actually very interesting when you remember your death; it helps you keep a hold on the ones you left behind. You should welcome it when it is your time. Death is only terrible for the living.
On the day I died, I was in a battle. All because of Voldemort and Harry. I love Harry like he was my own son. However, it nearly kills me again whenever I think about how he must be blaming himself. He mustn't, it was my time. I'll admit, at first I was bitter, trying to blame everyone, begging for another chance. Frankly, I didn't deserve one. And I still don't.
But you didn't come here to listen to me tell you how disgusting I am, did you? No, you didn't. You came to hear about the day I died.
It was interesting, really. When you die, really take in the moment. There's nothing worse than having a fuzzy memory of your death for eternity. Trust me, there's this one guy, Sturgis Podmore, who was hit from behind. Was hysterical for years, that bloke was.
Anyways. It was the best and worst feeling in the world. When you die, your soul sort of packs up its bags and leaves your body. Feels sort of like overweight butterflies dancing in your stomach.
You feel misery, anger, sadness, guilt, grief, wonder, and acceptance all at the same time. Some people go insane when they realize they died. While dead is a wonderful adventure, it can be dangerous.
Some days I miss being alive. Then I realize, I will live on for a while yet in the minds and hearts of those who have known me.
The day I died was very wonderful indeed.