Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, unfortunately.

Dear World.

"Dear world,

My name is Harry Potter. Yes, that Harry Potter- The Boy-who-lived, the Chosen One, saviour of the wizarding world, the one that finally got rid of Voldemort.

I'm just writing this letter to tell you what my life has been like for the past 17 years, what it took for me to be able to kill Voldemort.

Sixteen years ago, when I was one, Voldemort killed my parents and then tried to kill me. You've all heard the stories of how I survived, escaping with nothing but my lightening bolt scar, and destroying Voldemort in the process.

Or so everyone thought. With the sacrifice of my parents, the wizarding world was given 13 years of relative peace.

After that fateful night, I was sent to live with my mother's sister, her husband and their son. Muggles, through and through. They hated magic, they hated me. They never told me that I was a wizard, that I was famous, how my parents died. I spent ten years as my cousins punch bag, the freak of the family, no friends, no love and the cupboard under the stairs as my bedroom. I was their slave, their kicking post, the bane of their existence. I was told so everyday. I never knew of my past or my heritage for ten years, but this helped me, I think, as it made me self sufficient and independent and able to take many things in my stride. Such as people hating me, not believing me and hurting me.

I found out I was a wizard, and famous to boot, on my eleventh birthday. For a week previous to this, letters addressed to me, hundreds of them had been delivered for me. First to the house where I was living, and then to the hotel the muggles had taken me to, trying to avoid me finding out what I was, what I am, what I always have been.

It was Hagrid, Hogwarts Gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures Professor, who finally told me the truth about my past and gave me my Hogwarts letter. He came and rescued me in person from the hut on a rock in the North Sea where my relatives were hiding me from my heritage.

I was shocked to find out the truth. Me, an unremarkable boy who had spent ten years being bullied by my only family, a wizard? A famous wizard? It had to be a joke. But I went with Hagrid anyway, as I felt that anything was better than my life with the muggles. That decision changed my life. There were certainly some good times in the wizarding world, but there were also bad things. Very bad things.

I went to Diagon Alley and found out that I had a fortune in galleons hidden away in Gringotts, where my family could never get to it and take it off of me. My first glimpse of the wizarding world amazed me, but I felt strangely comfortable in this unusual new world. I was excited, as I would soon be leaving the muggles. Two of my most treasured possessions were bought that day- Hedwig, my beautiful snowy owl, and my wand, eleven inches of holly and phoenix feather, the brother for Voldemort's wand.

And then I went to Hogwarts. I made my first ever friend, Ron Weasley, on the train that day and my other very close friend, Hermione Granger, on Halloween after a fight with a mountain troll. I also made my first enemy on the train. Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater, Slytherin prince, my schoolboy nemesis. And yet, despite all his attempts at getting me expelled, all he ever managed was to get me the seeker spot on the Gryffindor quidditch team. In first year. After I'd only ever flown a broom once.

The first attempt on my life that I can physically remember was during the first quidditch game of that year. The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, who was being possessed by Voldemort, was jinxing the broom I was playing on. Even though that attempt failed, the professor tried again later in the year when I was on detention in the forbidden forest. He was killing unicorns and drinking their blood to stay alive when I found him, but I was saved by a centaur.

The end of year came without too much bother. And then we found out where the philosophers stone was being hidden and realised that this was the reason why Voldemort was possessing a professor. Ron, Hermione and I went to the rescue, but only I got to the chamber that housed the stone. I was so close to death that night and I didn't realise it. All that mattered to me was preventing Voldemort from getting the stone because he would have become immortal. But it wasn't all happiness. The professor was killed because he couldn't bear to touch me, as I was protected by my mothers sacrifice

I saw death at eleven, even played a small part in it, but no one seemed to realise this, or care. I was just happy that I was alive and that the stone was gone.

That summer was much worse than all previous years, as my relatives saw no reason to hide their hatred of my magic and of me. I got visited by a house elf, which had stolen my mail, warned me off going back to school, nearly got me expelled and got me locked in my room until I was rescued by Ron and his brothers. They came for me in a flying Ford Anglia, which we later used to fly back to school in as the same house elf sealed the entrance to Platform 9¾. I was nearly expelled again for that stunt and things didn't get much better throughout the year.

The Chamber of Secrets was opened and people were getting petrified. I found out that I am a Parselmouth, in front of the entire school, and this led to people thinking I was the heir of Slytherin and that I was petrifying my classmates.

The acromantulas that live in the forbidden forest nearly killed me. However, they still led us to the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets, and Hermione, who was petrified, told us the creature that was living down there- a Basilisk. I had been hearing it around the school for months, though I didn't realise that the voices I could hear were Parsetongue. The Basilisk was using the pipes to move around the castle unnoticed. We went down to the chamber when Ron's sister got taken. The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was a real fraud, and wouldn't go to rescue Ginny, but Ron and I dragged him along, where a memory charm backfired and wiped his memory. The charm also cause the tunnel roof to collapse, and I had to continue on to the Chamber alone

I found Ginny nearly dead and the real heir of Slytherin, who had been possessing Ginny, waiting for me.

Tom Marvolo Riddle

Whose name is an anagram of:

I am Lord Voldemort.

His memory had been preserved in a diary, which Ginny had been writing in all year. We argued, and the basilisk got set free. Professor Dumbledores phoenix, Fawkes, came to help me, bringing the school sorting hat. Fawkes blinded the basilisk, and the sorting hat gave me Godric Gryffindor's sword, which I used to slay the basilisk. I got poisoned by one of the basilisk's teeth, which I then used to destroy the diary. This set Ginny free, and saved the school and wizarding world again.

I had seen death again, had played a part in death again, even if only that of a deadly 50 foot long snake and a memory. I found out that night that I had received some of Voldemort's powers when he had tried to kill me as a baby, such as parseltongue, and that this was the reason that the sorting hat had wanted to put me in Slytherin.

That summer, my 'Aunt' came to visit. How I hated her and the way she was constantly belittling my parents and me. On one such occasion, I was so angry that I performed accidental magic, blowing her up like a balloon. After that stunt I ran away and spent the summer at the Leaky Cauldron. It was there that I found out that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban to get me.

Returning to school was both good and bad. Hogwarts is like my home, so I was happy to be back, but then there were the Dementors. My worst fear. Every time one got anywhere near me, I was forced to relive my worst memories- my parents being murdered. One line sticks in my memory.

'Stand aside you silly girl.'

I then found out that Sirius Black was my godfather and that he was the reason that my parents were dead.

Then in one surreal evening, the truth came out. Our most recent Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin, was a werewolf and was a childhood friend of my father and Sirius Black. Sirius was not the traitor and he hadn't sold out my parents. The traitor was another schoolyard friend, Peter Pettigrew, and he had been hiding for years as Ron's pet rat.

Yet, we still couldn't save Sirius from the ministry, so Hermione and I used a time turner to save an innocent hippogriff from execution and rescued my godfather from the Dementors Kiss. I showed how powerful I was that night. I produced a corporeal patronus at age 13, one strong enough to fight off a hundred dementors.

After all that adventure and almost escaping the muggles forever, I had to go back. It was doubly hard as I knew I had almost got out and found a loving home to stay in. Luckily I wasn't with the muggles for long. That summer it was off to the Quidditch World Cup. Death Eaters paraded around, playing with muggles and causing mayhem. The Dark Mark was cast, using my stolen wand.

Back at school it wasn't much better. I was entered into the Triwizard tournament and selected as the fourth champion, despite being underage. Ron stopped talking to me, as he didn't believe that I hadn't entered myself, and the rest of the school thought I was doing it for the attention. I still had Hermione though, and she helped me survive the tasks.

The first task was dragons. I had to retrieve a golden egg from a Hungarian Horntail. I did it by flying, and luring the dragon away. Due to the nature of the task, I gained Ron's friendship again, though it's never been the same since.

Then there was the second task. I had to retrieve Ron from the mermaids at the bottom of the lake in under an hour. Harder than it seems. I took longer than the time limit, but helped another hostage so still scored highly, placing me in joint first for the final task- the maze.

The maze was filled with creatures and spells to make the passage to the centre harder than it already was. I faced a blast-ended skrewt, a sphinx, an acromantula and a boggart in the maze, though the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was helping me. I reached the centre at the same time as the other Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory.

We were both too noble to take the cup alone; both believing the other was more deserving of the victory. In the end, we both took the cup and found ourselves transported to a graveyard. The cup had been turned into a portkey by the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor- a Death Eater under polyjuice.

Cedric was killed as soon as we reached the graveyard. I'll never forget Voldemort's order- it's burnt into my memory for eternity.

'Kill the spare.'

My blood was forcibly taken and used in an obscure potion to give Voldemort back his body. And then I had to duel him. I was placed under the Imperius curse, which I can fight off, then the Cruciatus. That really hurt. Then came the killing curse. Luckily, my reactions are brilliant. I simply countered with the first spell that came to mind- Expelliarmus.

I don't know who was more shocked when the wands connected- me, Voldemort or the Death Eaters. Priori Incantatem is what saved my life that day, the brother wands effect. I forced Voldemort's wand to replay the last spells it performed, and the shadowy echoes of his last victims helped me to escape, taking Cedric's body, using the Triwizard cup as a portkey again. I don't think I'll ever get that night out of my mind, or be confident with portkeys in my life.

'Kill the spare'

I had lost my innocence, my purity that night. I had blood on my hands, so to speak, and death on my conscience. And yet I still got sent back to my relatives who hated me, left to deal with my guilt and my anger on my own. Rather than with my friends and people who cared for me. But protecting me was more important than ensuring my mental sanity and that I was healing inside.

I was attacked that summer by Dementors. In the one place that I was supposed to be safe from danger. Oh yes, very safe. And to top off that, none of my friends were allowed to tell me anything substantial. Have you any idea how that feels? To witness someone's death and then be shipped off to the hated relatives, who resent your existence, left alone with your guilty thoughts and no information about what's going on with everyone you care about? Well, it certainly doesn't make you feel loved or cared for. It really made me angry. Nearly the angriest I've ever been.

I had to wait until after my birthday to get out from that place, and then it was to a prison like house that was headquarters to Albus Dumbledores resistance movement, and that belonged to my godfather. He hated that place with a vengeance, as did I, yet he wasn't let out because of being a convicted criminal on the run.

And I was put on trial by the Ministry. For creating a patronus to save my cousin and me from Dementors. A batty squib that lived round the corner from my relatives was the sole reason that I managed to stay at Hogwarts. Fudge seemed to have a personal vendetta against me for even daring to mention anything that would ruin the stable government he was running. Heaven forbid!

But I got off. And then it was back to school. A year of stares and snide comments, as everyone thought I was an attention seeking prat and that I'd made up the story of Voldemorts return to stay in the public eye. The latest Defence professor didn't help matters much. She was Fudges lackey and believed I was a liar. I had countless detentions with her, forced to write 'I must not tell lies' hundreds, if not thousands, of times. Of course, it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever is. Each time I wrote this line, it was cut into the back of my hand. An eternal message from a ministry who did not want to believe the truth.

'I must not tell lies'

But you see, the thing is, I try not to lie, it never helps. I may bend the truth slightly sometimes, but I have never outright lied to anyone in my life. The scar is there still, if ever I get the urge, and it always looks at me, even as I write this letter.

That school year was one of my hardest ones. At the end of that year, my godfather, Sirius, died. And even to this day, I still blame myself for that death, even though I know it wasn't my fault. Due to Voldemort placing images in my head, which he'd been doing all year, I went on a needless rescue mission to the Ministry of Magic. 5 friends and I broke into the Department of Mysteries and were ambushed by death eaters. There was a prophecy housed there, about Voldemort and me, and only one of us could remove it from the shelf.

Thankfully, none of the six of us were badly injured and we managed to hold the death eaters off until the order of the phoenix arrived. However, my godfather was killed by falling through the death arch and the prophecy orb smashed. That night I was possessed by voldemort, and nothing I have ever felt was as bad as the feeling of having voldemort inside my head.

I heard the prophecy, however, and that was a depressing time for me, not long after my godfathers' death. The prophecy spoke of voldemort and the only chance of killing him. It said;

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him… Born as the seventh month dies… And he shall mark him as his equal, but he shall have power the Dark Lord knows not… Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies'

Again, I got sent back, with all of the extra guilt, grief and anger to deal with, on top of this new burden that had been laid on my shoulders. But at least I had some human contact that year, how ever little it was. Every three or four days I would be taken to where Professor Dumbledore was staying, at Hogwarts. It was after one of these trips, where I was taught occlumency that I returned to my relatives' house to find it in ruins. Voldemort's first attack. My only relatives were dead, and I'd be lying of I said I felt too sad about it. What was weird was the fact that the whole house was destroyed. It was in the muggle news for weeks after the attack.

Strangely enough, my trunk that held my only possessions survived the attack. And thankfully, I still have my most precious possessions, things that are irreplaceable. These are my father's invisibility cloak, the Firebolt that Sirius bought me and all my photos.

I think I feel guiltier about the Dursley's dying than I do about Sirius. Maybe it's because for 10 years, they were all I knew. Or maybe it's because they never stood a chance against anything magical, and would not have been targeted if I hadn't been sent to live with them. They might still be alive. I don't know.

After the Dursley's were killed and their house destroyed, I went to live at Hogwarts permanently. I refused to go back to Sirius' house, due to all the memories I hadn't yet had a chance to deal with. Instead, I spent the summer training myself as I could do magic at Hogwarts, and I had an insane megalomaniac after my blood.

On top of learning all the charms, hexes, jinxes, curses and any other spell that I could take into a duel and use to win, and improving my school work as well, I became a master of occlumency, an illegal animagus and even learnt to apparate. Due to the fact that I am the heir of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, as I found out that summer, the wards around Hogwarts were no problem for me.

Sixth year came around and were worried about the changes they could see in me. I buried myself in my schoolwork, striving to improve, to learn, to get away from the memories. All the time, out beyond Hogwarts, people were being killed. I felt more and more guilty with every death, blaming myself for not getting rid of Voldemort already. So I pushed myself harder with the news of every attack. My grades improved drastically, beating even Hermione, who is the smartest witch in a century. But I had incentive to learn.

Still the nightmares continued, a mixture of my memories and my overactive imagination.

'Stand aside you silly girl'

'Kill the spare'

The prophecy

Sirius dying

My relatives' limp and lifeless bodies

My friends dying

Hogwarts falling

These were all nightly occurrences, but I locked the complaints and feelings away, deep down. I couldn't deal with them yet.

Most of the past two years have been like this. Pushing myself ever harder to improve myself, not sleeping well, having nightmares, hiding things, training. I made Head boy, and this helped slightly. It gave me a responsibility, something other than Voldemort to focus on.

The final battle shocked everyone, even me. Voldemort attacked Hogwarts on the last day of exams. We lost many good people that day. Albus Dumbledore. Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks. Severus Snape. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Rubeus Hagrid. And many others, too many to list here. But Voldemort and all of his Death eaters died that day. I'm not sure yet whether the relief outweighs the guilt.

I ended it all with Gryffindor's sword. I stuck the blade into Voldemort's stomach and used it as a conduit for my magic as I screamed the death curse. Voldemort died immediately. Because of the powers of the dark mark, anyone wearing it was drained and died.

Of the six of us who went to the ministry in my fifth year, only three survived. Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom died that day, taking many Death eaters with them. I am still numb with the shock of it.

Nearly two weeks later, I'm still in the hospital wing. Hermione and Ginny, the only remaining of the six, visit me every day, trying to get me to open up so I can heal inside as well as outside, and so they can get over their own pain as well. I don't know how much it is helping, or if it is helping at all. I am trying not to remember anything, or think to hard, because I know that if I do, it will all come back, and I'll crack. If I do, I don't know if I'll ever be able to put myself back together again. Maybe if the memories weren't so fresh.

So that is my story, well the basics of it. Even though they hated me, I have to thank the Dursley's for teaching me to be self reliant and self sufficient. that I feel has helped me live until today.

School ends tomorrow, and then my future begins. What of my future? Well, the prophecy is fulfilled- Voldemort is dead. But I'll always have nightmares and things that haunt me.

'stand aside you silly girl'

'Kill the spare'

The prophecy

Sirius' death

The Dursleys

The final battle

Maybe they will go away, or at least fade, now that I have the chance to grieve for everything I have lost in my life, and maybe I will finally heal.

To do that, I am going to have to go away for a while, somewhere quiet and distant. Somewhere that doesn't remind me of all the bad things from my past, somewhere I can work through the memories in peace. Somewhere I can work through my anger and grief and guilt as best I can. And then I will rest for a while. And maybe then, I can start the rest of my life, and do something I have always dreamed of.

Maybe I'll teach, or play quidditch, or maybe even write a book. But no more fighting. I've seen enough fighting to last three very long lifetimes. I just want peace.

I'll be happy doing anything really, so long as it is my decision. I can now control my own destiny, for the first time in my life.

Harry Potter."