Disclaimer: Anything related to Harry Potter or the Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing! Sadly. :pouts:

Prologue
Unending Sorrows

The unending sorrow of the white funeral would never leave Harry's mind. It was a memory etched into his existence forever. The scarlet train departed from Hogsmeade station in an almost morose fashion. It was like the train was completely aware and understanding of the great magnitude of loss that Hogwarts had just received. A great spot had just been vacated, and Harry doubted that anyone could ever fill the same role again.

Harry sat in silence during the train ride. Many thoughts tumbled through his mind. Most of them, of course, involved Voldemort in some way, shape, or form. The most depressing one (to Harry) had been when he had realized that he could never be with Ginny Weasley. Never. He had been thinking about it at the funeral and had gone on protective instinct to break it off with her right then and there. But now that he gave it a little more thought, he realized just how important it was to end their relationship. Or at least to make Voldemort think that he did not have any loving feelings towards the littlest Weasley girl.

Dumbledore had said that Harry's greatest strength was his power and gift to love. Harry often times still had a hard time believing this. Especially with the present circumstances. He knew what was happening. Voldemort was targeting Harry's "strength" and changing it into his worst weakness. Harry realized that the Dark Lord could hurt him far worse by targeting those that the boy loved rather than using any other means of physical torture or mutilation to break him.

Harry could already see the growing trend. Anyone who tried to protect him usually ended up slaughtered off by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or his followers. The first had been his parents. Then it had been his godfather. Now his greatest mentor and protector was gone too. Not to mention all the other countless victims that had gotten in Voldemort's way on his quest to extinguish the Boy-Who-Lived.

That was why he could never date Ginny Weasley. True, he loved her beyond all reason. Her smile was like sunshine on a cloudy day and her laughter reminded him of a warm fall afternoon. She was calming and soothing. He knew that she liked him because he was "Harry" and not just because he was the great "Harry Potter!" or, as the Dailey Prophet liked to refer to him as these days, "The Chosen One." She liked him for himself, and that was all.

Harry cared about Ginny far too much to put her in any kind of danger. That was why he had broken it off with her. But what about people like Ron and Hermione? It was only too well-known that the three had been friends since their first year at Hogwarts. Harry had a sinking feeling that Voldemort would eventually target then too. In fact, he was positive that it would happen.

But with Ron and Hermione it was different. He couldn't just ask them not to be friends. He couldn't just tell them it was over. They would probably ask him if he'd had too many Butterbeers or he'd been knocked upside the head.

Knowing that those two would never desert him gave Harry an odd sort of warmth that spread all the way from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He smiled for one brief moment. At the same time, though, the thought saddened him more than anything else. Sure, they would be there for him. But for how long? He didn't know if he could stand losing anyone else he greatly cared for. Would he be able to stand having his heart ripped out once more?

As much as he should be used to it by now, Harry could still never get over the pain from each time a death occurred. His heart and mind always stayed in a constant anguish, though he learned that the pain was easier to deal with as time went by. He remembered all those that had died for him or because of him. Some people like Cedric—Harry cringed—weren't even given a chance before being eliminated. Voldemort was ruthless. Harry glared silently to himself. He would always remember the ones that died and he would never forget the sacrifices that they made. It was the least he could do in their honor.

It was then that Harry started thinking about death. As the cold rain lashed against the train's windows, he felt his own sorrow deepen. He began to wonder strange things. Like what the other side must feel like, or if he'd be too scared to pass on. Would he choose to become a ghost forced to remain on this side of life forever?

It made also made him wonder things like what his parents must've been feeling as they stared death in the eye at tip of Lord Voldemort's wand. What exactly was Sirius thinking as Bellatrix cackled while he was falling through the veil? And what were Dumbledore's last thoughts before he met his demise in a flash of green light?

Harry wondered all these things and kept them to himself. They were questions that he would never know the answer to. Thinking about death or facing it in the eye has a strange effect on already strange people. Harry would never know the answers to most of the questions he had thought about as the Hogwarts Express slowly pulled back into Platform 9 ¾.

Harry would never know the answers…but you will.

You see, this story is not about Harry Potter, the "Chosen One" or "The Boy-Who-Lived." It is not about him at all. No, it is about them. The ones that passed on prematurely. Those that were robbed of their lives by threatening hands and tainted hearts. It is they for whom I write. It is they who should be remembered.

So don't forget…because this is their story.

These are their last tales.

Author's Notes: I will be going in order of who died to protect Harry starting with James and moving on to Lily...etc...etc.