Chapter 1

Harry Potter

Wind blew harshly in the autumn air. The dead leaves were lifted from their resting spots on the ground to be thrown back up in the air to dance, dance, dance. They were not in control of their actions, but the wind was. The wind was the master mind of this beautiful dance of the leaves dancing, dancing in the air.

The wind controlled the spinning, the twirling. The wind controlled the twisting, the whirling. The wind controlled when they rested. The wind controlled when they danced. The wind controlled everything, everything that the leaves did.

A boy with messy raven black hair and striking green eyes smiled as he thought about this. He thought about the similarities between him and the leaves. He was a leaf too, in his own way. He was always dancing, spinning, whirling, twisting, twirling at the whims of another. He never got to rest. He never got to dream. All he did was dance, dance, dance for those who bid him to dance.

11:53

Of course, he didn't dance. No, he fought. It was all he did. He fought bullies. He fought death eaters. He fought Voldemort. He fought the ministry. He fought with everything that he had ever had and with what remained of what he had once had.

The leaves used to have so much. They sat in trees, soaking up sun, keeping the tree that bore them alive. They helped absorb water and rain to make seeds, nuts, fruit and flowers. Then the autumn came and they were discarded by the tree that had used them, only so the leaves could be used by the wind to do the bidding of the wind until they could no longer do it's bidding.

11:54

The boy with the lightning etched into his brow had once had a useful life where he was used. He had thought he was happy. He had, had friends, family, a home, and mentors to protect him. They had used him. And used him. And used him. They had used him until they couldn't use him anymore. Once his usefulness had been used up, they had discared him. Discared him like the tree had discarded the leaves.

11:55

Then he had been used by the ministry, who had wanted to look good. The ministry had used him like the wind had used the leaves. They had made him dance, dance, dance through so many political parties and messes that he had finally slipped. Then, then the ministry had thrown him away, just like the wind finally discards the leaves.

11:56

Now, here he was. Alone. Used. Another leaf discarded by the cruelties of the world.

11:57

The boy, only sixteen years old, chuckled. He patted the limb of the tree that he sat in and closed his eyes, a strange smile twisted upon his lips. The wind died down as he was stared down at the watch on his wrist, watching as the numbers ticked by.

11:58

11:59

12:00

"Dear tree, I'm gooing to use you like you used the leaves. I'm sorry." and with that, the boy jumped from the tree with an audible 'crack' filling the air.

12:01

The wind then began to pick up again. A soft creaking filling the air that had not been there before.

Twenty six people were waiting impatiently for the guest of honor to show up for his surprise birthday party. They had, had this planned for the past two months because they had seen how depressed the boy had become after he had defeated Lord Voldemort.

Each one of them knew that they had been guilty of neglecting the boy after his defeat of Voldemort. They had just gotten so caught up with their cheer of the oppressing monster being gone from their lives and with fixing all the tears that the madman had caused in their lives that none of them had considered how the boy may be doing. When they had realized this, they had decided to make it up to him by throwing him his first ever birthday that he would remember, even if it was a belated birthday.

The entire Weasely family was sitting around the living room of Grimmauld Place with the birthday cake sitting on the coffee table. Muggle and wizarding balloons filled the room with streamers stretching from all corners of the room up high by the ceiling.

Molly Weasely and Aurther Weasely were the eldest Weaselys in the room. Next came Charlie Weasely, Bill Weasely and Percival Weasely. After them came Fred Weasely, George Weasely and Ron Weasely. And finally, the youngest Weasely there, Ginny Weasely.

Hermione Granger sat with Ron Weasely, along with Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Nearby sat Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, the once best friends of the boy's father. By the door sat the formidable Minerva McGonnagal, the head of house for the boy, and before him, his father.

In the kitchen, one Albus Dumbledore was frowning down into his tea cup, also waiting for the expected boy. Alaster Moody (aka Mad Eye Moody) was sitting in the corner with his fellow aurors, Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Alastor Moody kept shooting glares at the far corner while he discussed auror business with the other two while they waited for the boy to arrive.

In the far corner where Alastor Moody kept glaring sat a man by the name of Mundungus Fletcher whom was notorious throughout the entire group in the house as a low life thief. He was sitting in the corner, fast asleep, trying to sleep off his latest hangover before the boy that they were awaiting got there.

Then scattered through out the rest of the house was Rubeus Hagrid, Filius Flitwick and Xiamora Hooch. Pamona Sprout and Aurora Sinistra were both sitting in the drawing room, both of them enjoying some firewhiskey before the birthday boy arrived.

Finally, in irritation, Hermione Granger rose to her feet, startling everyone in the living room.

"I'm going outside to the backyard." announced Hermione, irritated that the birthday boy hadn't come even though they had sent him an owl the night before for him to come to Grimmauld place promptly at three in the afterrnoon.

"Hermione, I'm sure he has a good reason-" Remus began but Hermione had already left the room. Remus sighed, shaking his head, before he turned back to discuss old times with Sirius some more before Harry showed up.

Hermione stormed to the backdoor, planning on venting some of her irritation at her friend's tardiness while she was in the backyard. She paused for a second when she noticed that the backdoor was open, which was a little strange, but she just shrugged it off. Someone had probably just forgotton to shut it all the way. She opened the door the rest of the way and went outside.

She walked through the freshly cut grass, Sirius only having cut it two days prior. He had been so excited about his godson's upcoming birthday that he had done it the muggle way. Hermione smiled when she remembered the funny story that Remus had told them earlier about Sirius's adventure with a muggle push lawn mower. It had been quite amusing.

Hermione stopped suddenly, frowning. The wind was blowing her hair in her face, making it hard for her to see, but she thought that she had heard something.

Creak... Creak... Creak... Creak

Hermion bunched her hair up in her hand and held it behind her head, peering about the backyard. When her eyes landed on the single yew tree in the far back of the yard, she froze.

Then, she screamed. She screamed so loud that she wasn't even sure if it was her screaming. All she knew was that the screaming kept going on and on and on. It seemed to never end. Whenever she thought it would end, it didn't. It just kept going.

All the people inside of the house came running and stopped beside her, staring in horror at what she saw. No one tried to stop her. All they did was stare as she kept screaming and screaming.

Before them, the boy whom they had been waiting for, was dead. Dead from having hung himself from his godfather's tree.

Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived-and-killed-Voldemort, had killed himself.

Hey, I'm not done. This is just the first chapter. There's going to be three in all.