-PROLOGUE-

He would never know how many people actually cared, how many people would be affected by his actions. Before the battle, he had thought that the whole wizarding world was against him. He might have been right at the time.

I wanted to hurt those petty followers, mindless robots who didn't realize the truth until it was too late. People who shunned the only one who could help them, save them. That was what HE wanted. To turn everyone against the wizarding worlds savior. HIM. I look down upon the people who see only good and evil, black and white, ying and yang. Bloody fools.

There is no black and white, good and evil. Each man believes that what he is fighting for is the good thing, that whatever force is opposing him is the enemy, the evil. Wizards should know this better then anyone, yet the ignorance and carelessness introduced by muggles have tainted our society. Muggleborn wizards. What a joke. Sure, they could do magic, and some ended up being quite the talented wizard or witch, but they just didn't understand. They came into our world, bringing with them their prejudices, their beliefs. Those mudbloods refused to accept anything from our world, forcing us to change to accommodate them. I don't have anything against any one of them personally. It's just the essence of the matter, the concept. We accepted them into our society and they went and changed it. What kind of respect is that?

The fools who run our world don't realize that Voldemort thought and felt that his way was the right way, and that we were the "evil." Those petty people, only seeing the world from their point. Never thinking of the families of those deatheaters they killed. Never reversing the tables, and seeing from Voldemort's view. Not that I support Voldie, or what he did, but I don't support the ministry either. I was just there, a survivor of the great war that left many without friend or foe, house or family. It ruined thousands. Still, almost a year later, you see people searching through rubble that used to be buildings.

The wizarding world is now one giant graveyard.

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I decided to interview everyone who had had close contact with The-Boy-Who-Lived. It had been almost a year since the end of the battle, so I figured enough time had passed that it wouldn't bring about the ultimate sorrow again, but what did I know? What did I understand about sorrow and grief? That was the question that most on the "light" side would bombard me with. Why was I doing it, who did I think I was, pretending to care. None of that mattered to me, because I had grown up enough, with the help of another, to see past the petty labels. My big question was: Who to interview first? Would I start with those closest to him, relationshipwise, or those who knew him the best, or those who simply knew of him? This decision would make or break me, because my choice would be the first impression of me on everyone's mind, and any pre-conceived notions would either be strengthened, or dissipate.

Who to choose?

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I ended up interviewing Hermione Granger first. Still to this day, I don't know exactly why I chose her to be my first interview. It just felt right. Call it Slytherin instinct. Following Granger was Ron, Ginny, Fred, George and Bill Weasley. After that I paid a visit to Harry's summer family, the Dursleys. I include in this, story I guess one could call it, every interview I conducted, and more. This is my life, my memoir. My remembrance of The-Boy-Who-Lived. The boy who changed my life. Harry Potter.

-/END PROLOGUE-

revised: 07/09/05