(A/N) I was listening to the song 'Mad World' the other day and felt like writing a fic to go with it, so here it is! Please review and tell me how I can make my writing better, I know it's not that great, so some advice would be lovely :-)


All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places
Worn out faces

The Second War is over. I have defeated Voldemort. The public are standing outside the Great Hall of Hogwarts, clamouring to be let in to see me. In here, the members of the Order of the Phoenix are engaged in a group hug. Not one of those group hugs that come from pride in being triumphant, but a group hug aimed at giving comfort to everyone present. We lost people in the war, too many people. Sirius, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Ron, Hermione, not to mention other members of the Order who I barely knew.

Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere
Going nowhere

Towards the end of the war, we felt so hopeless. On the outside, we put on a brave face, trying to give people hope, but in Order meetings? Order meetings were filled with misery and trying to work out how to hold Voldemort off. It wasn't a question of fighting back any more. It was a question of mere survival.


Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression
No expression

And once again, when the doors open and the exuberant public come rushing in, we will wipe the utter misery from our faces and replace it with blank masks. We refuse to look happy when so many people gave their lives just hours ago. People have a habit of celebrating the good and ignoring the bad completely. Just like when my parents died and I became the Boy-who-Lived. Everyone celebrated that I had survived the Killing Curse and defeated Voldemort, but no one spared a thought for the sacrifices that my parents made.


Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow
No tomorrow

I don't want to be dragged around the Ministry balls, being congratulated and given various awards and titles. I want time, space, and privacy to mourn the dead! They gave their lives to give us a tomorrow where we could live without Voldemort, and they deserve to be remembered! In fact, I have made a decision. I am not going to go to some ridiculous party. I am going to go outside right now with the other Order members to the battlefield where we are going to bury the dead properly.

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had

I don't think I can cope with this any more. I've just buried seven of my close friends, two of my teachers, and thirty-seven others who I never knew. And the others have all buried a similar number. My best friends are dead, I have no family, and I have nothing left except my own heartbeat. Every night I dream of dying, of leaving this world of pain and torture to be with my loved ones for eternity.

I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world
Mad world

How do you cope with the wish to die? How do you let others know? Part of me thinks that I should ask someone for help, so that they can pull me back from the brink of this massive cliff I'm standing at the edge of. But my family, my friends, everyone I loved and lost, are down at the bottom of the cliff. And all I have to do is jump, and I'll be with them. I'll never suffer again if I jump… but it seems wrong to me to jump. So many people gave their lives so that I could live, and to die by my own hand seems like a waste of their sacrifices.

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday
Happy birthday

So many lives… so much needless death.

And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen
Sit and listen

All the Ministry cares about is getting themselves attention by fawning over me. Scrimgeour is giving a long speech to the assembled crowd about how wonderful I am, and all the accomplishments and heroic deeds I've performed in my life. And I'm just sitting here, not caring about anything he says. Just nodding dully when required, to create the image that I'm actually listened to him.

Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me
No one knew me

Being thrown into the magical world after spending ten years as a Muggle is tough. I remember I was terrified that I'd be useless at all my lessons, that I'd get expelled for being bad at magic. I knew from Hagrid and Diagon Alley that I was famous in the wizarding world, but I didn't know then what that entailed. Everyone knew the story of the Boy-who-Lived, famous Harry Potter, but no one knew me. Everyone in Gryffindor was so proud that Harry Potter was Sorted into their house. I wasn't celebrated for who I was but for something that I had had absolutely no influence over. I mean, come on. What did they think I'd done to Voldemort? Said goo-goo and thrown a rattle at him, causing him to lose all his powers?

Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me
Look right through me

I spent my first six years at Hogwarts being Famous Harry Potter. First I was the Boy-who-Lived, then I was the Evil Parselmouth Heir of Slytherin, then I was the Triwizard champion and crazy nutter who wasn't supposed to be in the tournament at all. Then I was Crazy Lunatic Liar Boy until Fudge took his head out of his butt long enough to see Voldemort literally standing in front of him. Sixth year? Yeah, I was Famous Hot Harry Potter, the Chosen One. In seventh year, Scrimgeour tried to discredit me a la Fudge, but I gave an interview to the Quibbler stating that the reason Scrimgeour hated me was that I had told him on numerous occasions that I was 'Dumbledore's man through and through', and wouldn't become the Ministry poster boy. But I did save his career from going the same way as Fudge's by stating that Scrimgeour was a capable Minister who was a good choice to lead the country in the war. I'm not spiteful. There's no point in destroying someone's career and reputation just because you can. Sadly, lots of people throughout my life haven't exactly thought the same in regards to me.

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had

It's strange, knowing that tomorrow is a new day and that tomorrow will be a day in the new life of Harry James Potter. It's strange to know that I don't have Voldemort hanging over me any more. It's strange to know that I'll never get any more insights into the Dark Lord's mind. And it's even stranger to know that I've become an adult. I'm no longer the boy who looked up to everyone yet had a stubborn streak of independence, nor am I the teenager who tried to get along on his own but invariably ended up with adults getting dragged in to help me with the situations I got stuck with. Now, I am a man. I know myself inside out and although I will always have the same independent streak, I know what I can and cannot do. I've grown up. I don't stand behind the adults any more. I always thought that I never stood behind an adult, that my adventures with the Philosopher's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets proved my independence. But I went on those adventures because there were adults there to protect me. The teachers' protections would help me guard the Stone, and in the Chamber I remembered Dumbledore's words, saying that he would never be truly gone as long as people believed in him.

I suppose that if you asked me to tell you when I grew up, it was in the cave with Dumbledore, when I had to force feed him the potion that was causing him so much pain. That was when I learnt that there was a time and place to debate what I was told, and there were also times and places where I had to obey orders. And knowing that is what I consider to be an adult. Children trust what their parents tell them without question, teenagers rebel against all orders as a matter of principle, and adults know that sometimes you have to just put your total trust in someone else's logic and follow their command.

I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very very mad world

Life repeats itself, over and over again. I've been self-centred. I've spent so long thinking of how alone I am in my role of Dark-Lord-Defeater. But history repeats itself, just as it always has and always will. Evil dies and is reborn as a new Dark Lord, just as the phoenix dies and is reborn from the ashes. There has always been a Dark Lord, just as there has always been one who is fated to bring down the evil of their generation. I always thought I was the only one whose life was ruled by the fate of having to defeat the Dark Lord. But I am not. Before me there was Dumbledore, who defeated Grindelwald. Before Dumbledore there was Sharahughe, who defeated Devrir. And before Sharahughe, there were many other brave witches and wizards who stood up and fought the Dark.

Those who do not learn from history's mistakes are bound to repeat them, and that is what has always happened, and what always will. One day, another Dark Lord will rise, and I will be there to support the person who will be fated to defeat him. Just as Dumbledore was there for me.

I am Harry James Potter. I am a survivor. And I will survive.