Disclaimer: I don't own harry potter or any of it characters.
Hi~~~...I'm a bit of a noob…this is my first fanfic I've ever written. I was curious on how I would do.
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They call me "the boy who lived". "The Chosen One". "The Golden Boy". I'm just harry. Yes, I spell my name with a lower-case H. What did you expect with the way my so called "relatives" treated me. Can you blame me?
I guess you could, if you wanted. You could crucifix me with hateful words, and slander the already tarnished name I have.
THEY did.
No. not my relatives this time, I'm referring to the imbeciles currently residing in the Wizarding world. My so called friends, my ADORING fans, my guiding mentor; those people I loved.
I'm not going to lie. It HURT. It felt like my insides were steadily filling with acid, drowning and scorching me at the same time. Still, nothing changed. Even though I sacrificed everything about myself for those people, they still treated me like scum beneath their shoes.
For months I cried myself to sleep in the cave outside Hogsmade, the same place my long deceased godfather once stayed. Even now I feel the sting of tears, wanting to rip their way from my eyes to trickle down my pale cheeks.
I want to end it, to stop the pain of their betrayal, but I don't wish to give them the satisfaction that I was weak. I'm stronger than they think and they will never be able to break me to nothing, no matter how close they get.
I go out every now and then. To fill up on stocks in my kitchen, to show them they haven't gotten me yet. In the end I will win this silent struggle.
I just hope they don't get another Dark Lord to take off from where Voldemort left off. Cause I'm sure as hell not going to be the one to save them.
Not ever.
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Thanks for reading, please review and tell me watcha think…I thought it was good considering it's my first.