Hello to the night
A/N: Yeah...I wrote this when I was feeling kinda annoyed, hence Harry being kinda pissy in here. I wrote this in under an hour so it's kinda cruddy and pretty short so...enjoy.
It's funny, with Lord Voldemort gone, one would expect the Boy-Who-Lived to be jumping for joy. The final battle had just ended, thus ending the war and the rest of the school was in the Great Hall, celebrating Voldemort's demise; while he, Harry sat atop the roof of the Astronomy Tower.
The cool night breeze whipped through his hair, soothing the retched scar he had received that fateful night, the night the thought of a normal life was ripped away from him when he lost his parents to Voldemort and the duty of saving the Wizarding World was thrust upon him. He leaned forward, hugging his knees to his chest, once bright emerald eyes watching as the sun set below the horizon. He didn't know how long he sat there, sitting in silence as he looked out across Hogwarts grounds, deep in thought. The main thought in his mind, however, was that Voldemort was gone. At long last...then why wasn't he celebrating?
The seventeen year old sighed as he leaned back against the slanted roof, raised emerald eyes reflecting the billion stars that filled his vision. His thoughts drifted to Ron and Hermione, who, now that the war was over, realised their true feelings and were now in their own little blissful world, leaving Harry feeling completely alone.
Funny, after all the sacrifices he's made, this is what the bloody Boy-Who-Lived got, the Destroyer-of-Darkness the tabloids now called him. He was left alone. No friends to care for him, no words of comfort. Left with noone to turn to.
Lovely, this hero thing, eh? Once he had fulfilled their expectations, he was no longer needed, so they tossed him away like a broken toy. That was all they wanted, wasn't it? For him to destroy the dark lord so they can live in their happy little world.
After all, who had bothered to check up on him, while they celebrated Voldemort's death. The one who gave them that reason to rejoice, the one who had done everything expected of him, even after sacrificing many things. No one.
Harry found himself doing what he had wanted to do when he had first learned of the prophecy. He couldn't do it before because, well, he had to save the wizarding world from a power-hungry megalomaniac. But now, it was safe to say, he had nothing to lose.
Harry walked over to the very edge of the roof. He stood there, with his arms held out to the side, feeling the wind whip through his hair for the last time.
Then he jumped.