A/N: This is my first story translated to english which is not my native language so forgive me any mistakes. None of what you may recognize belongs to me, only the plot. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

-x-

"Many people ruin their lives with a pathological and exaggerated altruism"

I.

When you were a baby, after you've been put to sleep, you sat in you crib and looked at mummy while she was saying incomprehensible things. You just looked into her eyes and nodded smiling. She smiled back at you and you felt a nice warmth inside you.

II.

Then a hooted figure comes in, would it be daddy playing jokes with you? You laugh. Mummy throws herself in front of you and opens her arms, the man made a green light appear and mummy fell to the floor. He couldn't be daddy. Would it be someone else playing jokes with you all? You look at the man with curiosity. He makes the same green light come against you and for a few moments you see nothing and feel nothing. When you open your eyes, mummy is still sprawled on the floor. The man is gone. Why is mummy still on the floor? Why isn't she smiling? You don't like this joke at all. You start to cry, you want daddy to come over, you want mummy to wake up.

III.

When you lived on the cupboard under the stairs, you quickly learnt that you shouldn't question anything or ask for anything. Little by little, you got used to expect nothing good coming your way and you were happy to have a peaceful moment even if it meant playing with one of Dudley's broken toys. At school you got used to your classmates despise, after all who would want to be friends with Harry, the freak?

IV.

That big man told you are special, that you belong to the world he showed you. The boy from the train ride to the school is very nice, you shared chocolate frogs with him and something more too that only years later you would acknowledge.

V.

You looked at the mirror of Erised and saw what could have been your family. Professor told you dreams can kill. You would only understand that a long time after.

VI.

You found the Philosopher's Stone and you gave it back. You saved a little girl from that horrid beast. You gave a new chance to a convicted man. You saw one of your schoolmates die without being able to do anything to stop it. You saw your godfather crossing a veil to a place from where he'll never come back. You started to see magic's power, it's extent and the danger it represents in less than kind hands. You saw your mentor die and you didn't realised we wished Death to come. And all that you've submitted yourself to has taken away a piece of you.

VII.

It's the final confrontation, the all or nothing. Besides giving up your future with a family, your childhood, some of your beloved ones you also gave your innocence. Besides giving up what you craved, always annulling your will, always repressing your desire to be just Harry, to be just normal, to be just free. You did that, sometimes against your will, yes but always for others, for what is right, for other's sake. Besides all that, you must also give your life and you do so for the greater good and when everything is finally over, you realize you really left your life there, in the Battle's ruins.

VIII.

Then along the day-to-day life stars over, the post-war life restarts and you're empty. Each death, each shattered hope, each dream undone, each loss has been ruining, consuming, killing step by step all there was within you, Harry and all that was left was emptiness.

And so you sat countless hours in front of the therapist's desk and oh the irony that she actually was Parkinson, in the utmost silence staring at her and she staring right back at you.

'You know, that emptiness feeling is usual after one has completed a task, especially one of such importance as yours.' She calmly said while leaning back on her chair.

You laughed a humorless laugh, an empty laugh and answered 'I haven't completed a task. I've lost the reason to live'

'You really did or you never thought that that didn't have to be your reason to live? No, you don't need to answer me right now. Think about it.'

And so you did, for months you thought about what she had said and the persistent Parkinson gave you a piece of her mind and slowly became more than a therapist, she became a friend and contributed to heal some of your inner wounds. Her smile, her shiny, piercing, keen blue eyes when you finally found the answer to that question were all you need to see to make you feel fulfilled by that nice warmth again.