Harry's POV:

My life has always been a mess. If I wasn't getting abused by my crappy muggle "family," I was busy diving head-first into the war against my own will. And if I wasn't doing that, I was being yelled at for doing that previously. Recently, it's been more of the last one. I absolutely hated this stupid war more than anything else. Not only was I dragged into the war at ELEVEN YEARS OF AGE, but I was also expected to be the one to single-handedly win it. That was a lot to take in, and even though I'd known about it for six (soon to be seven) years, I still couldn't believe it. Who the fuck puts all their faith into someone who could hardly even perform magic outside of Hogwarts?

A constant topic of my scoldings happened to be how I am against people risking their lives for me. They said it was selfish to think it was all for me, when really it was "for the cause." Bullshit. I am their cause. Without me, they would think they're prophesized to lose the battle. Hell, they might even surrender. In my view, people were risking their lives, but they were doing so for the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, not Harry Potter. Merlin, I hated that title. I should make a list of things I hate.

Things I hate most in this world:

-This bloody fucking war

-Being the Boy-Who-Lived/Savior/Chosen One

-Uncle Vernon

I thought a moment more but couldn't think of anything else. Even though I felt as if I could smite the whole world, I knew I was just tired. I'm not actually one who hates easily, but those three things had more than proven to make my life worse at every turn. In my mind, I could actually rid of two of them by just killing myself. But my damn whale of an uncle would still be alive and well.

Sure, maybe I couldn't bring myself to actually kill anything (maybe even my evil uncle), but I was somehow different. For some reason, I felt like I could have easily brought a knife to my throat, or a wand to my head with an Avada Kedavra.

That sounds bad. But I'm not suicidal…right? Or maybe I am…just not in that way…That doesn't make sense.

I sighed. Even though the war was the bane of my existence, I would risk my life in it. That was the Gryffindor inside me talking, of course.

I used to run straight into anything, but now even that has been taken away. Yeah, so it's dangerous. And yeah, it's stupid. But (and I hate to play this card, but) I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Won't-Die. What makes them think I'll die now?

Scratch that last question. My friends thought I was completely ready to die because of…well, everything. I wasn't really trying to kill myself. I just wanted to get the whole thing over with. But that was another thing: everyone wanted the war to end so everything would go "back to normal," but I never had a normal.

I don't know what I'll do after the war, if I'm alive.

It was around that point that I sighed again and thought, Screw it. I might not even be alive.

I knew for a fact that Voldemort wanted to kill me, if not let one of his Death Eaters who hated me do it. And if that had not meant that I failed the one task I was born for, I might have let them do it. But I can't just let everyone down. Not Hermione and Ron, or the Order, or Dumbledore, or any of the wizards whose names I didn't know who were relying on me to save them. And I had to do it for all those who gave their lives fighting. I didn't want them to have died in vain.

The sun was finally up in the sky, so I sat up in bed and pushed away the thoughts that had plagued my mind for the past few hours. I was about to wake up Ron, but I decided against it.

He deserves to sleep, I guess.

I got out of bed, quietly got ready, and headed down to the kitchen to see if anyone was up. No one was there. The kitchen was still messy from dinner yesterday, so I took it upon myself to clean it up. Mrs. Weasley always told me I didn't have to worry about cleaning anything, but after living in that hell-hole with Uncle Vermin (spelling intended), my wicked Aunt Petunia, and my pig cousin Dudley, it was a habit I had to give into. The pile of dishes by the sink was tall, and the countertops were covered with some sort of sauce.

What did we have for dinner yesterday? I can hardly remember.

I shrugged and started on the dishes the muggle way since I couldn't remember the spell for it. I had gotten about halfway through washing when Mrs. Weasley woke up and came into the kitchen.

"Harry James Potter," she said firmly, "what on Earth do you think you're doing?"

I smiled and dried off my hands, knowing I wouldn't be able to continue. "I was just cleaning the dishes. They were dirty still, so I figured you could use some help…"

"Harry, dear, I don't need any help. I am just fine." She gave me one of her motherly smiles that always made me feel so loved, and she patted my cheek. "Now, run along and wake up Ron. I'm sure he wouldn't want to be late for breakfast, and Merlin knows how long it takes to wake him so close to school starting again…"

I laughed, knowing just how right she was. "Yes, ma'am." I smiled and went back into our room. Ron hadn't budged an inch from when I saw him last. His bright red hair was strewn about him, hiding much of his face, and his arms made him look like one of those chalk outlines of dead bodies in those really old muggle movies.

"Ron, wake up." I shook his shoulders hard, but he just groaned and turned the other way. I sighed. "Come on, Ron. You can't sleep all day. You'll get hungry eventually."

I sat on the edge of the bed, planning ways to wake him. Yesterday, I let Fred and George wake him with one of their noise buzzers and a bucket of cold water. His face was priceless.

"Ron, don't make me get Fred and George in here again…"

I felt Ron tense on the bed. "You wouldn't…"

"Try me," I said. "You know how they love to try out their new inventions, especially on you."

Ron groaned before sitting up. "Aw Harry, I couldn't get five more minutes?"

I scoffed. "No, because you're five minutes is more like twenty." I smiled and nudged his arm. "Anyways, you don't want to be late for breakfast."

He grinned. "Yeah. I'm starvin'." He pushed his legs off the bed and stood.

"Okay good," I said standing, too. "I'll be outside. And don't you dare go back to sleep."

"I won't, Mother," he retorted.

We both laughed, and I left to go outside. The day was already warming up, though it was still a bit chilly. I always enjoyed watching how the morning changed everything outside. The once dark sky would lighten into pink and orange, then fade into blue. I never understood why the sky changed colors (too much science for me), but I enjoyed watching. The mornings were so peaceful (unlike the day when everyone bustled about, or even the night with Bill, Fred, and George snoring). I never made a noise for fear I might interrupt the peace. It was nice sometimes to just get away from everything, even if only for a moment.

Ron came and sat beside me. "Hey mate, what'cha doing?"

"I'm just enjoying the peace. It's nice sometimes, ya' know?"

We sat in silence for a few minutes before Ginny came to tell us breakfast was almost ready. She was as beautiful as ever with the morning sun reflecting off her silky red hair and her eyes filled with happiness. Of course, we weren't into each other anymore, mostly because the whole saving-her-life-from-Tom-Riddle feelings wore off. We decided to stay friends, but every now and then, I remember just why I had liked her in the first place. She was so…stable. It was as if nothing could affect her. I admired that about her, being my exact opposite. I was so unstable. Every loss I suffered only increased that. I hated feeling so vulnerable.

"You coming, Harry?" Ron asked from the doorway.

"Yeah, sorry. Lost in thought." I joined Ron and went to eat breakfast, pushing my thoughts to the back of my mind.

We finished breakfast and went outside to wait for Hermione to arrive with Luna and Neville. Luna and Neville had been "really good friends" for quite a while now, so Hermione had been trying to convince Neville to ask her on a date, but he was a little nervous. And by little, I mean he would absolutely freak every time he thought about it, so it was still a work-in-progress. It was sort of funny to watch, actually.

"Hey Harry," Ron said, uncertainty in his tone, eyes never moving from the spot in the distance where Hermione, Luna, and Neville would land.

"Yeah Ron? What's wrong?"

"'Mione is always on time. She's never usually this late. What do you think is taking her so long?"

"She's probably just talking to Neville about Luna again. You know how well that always goes."

We both chuckled a bit.

"Yeah, I guess," Ron said. "I just…something's off. I can feel it. Maybe I'm just worrying too much."

"Hermione might be rubbing off on you, Ron." I smiled, trying to ease his worrying. "I'm sure there's nothing to be-"

A scream rang out in the distance, silencing whatever I was going to say. Ron and I looked at each other, horror in our eyes as we confirmed that we both recognized the sound.

Without further hesitation, we were running to it. Time seemed to slow. Ron and I couldn't move fast enough. We needed to get there now, but our legs could only move in slow motion. Tears began to run down Ron's cheeks, and he knew he was right. Something was terribly wrong. We didn't hear any more noise come from the field after that scream, but Ron and I kept running towards the source. One word repeatedly erupted from Ron's throat, hoarse and frightened, but loud and urgent. I could barely hear it over the adrenaline pumping in my ears and the thumps of my feet hitting the ground, but it rang through the now quiet field.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

Time returned to normal speed as we arrived to a beat-up body of Hermione leaning over something. Hermione's back was moving slightly as she looked over the lump in her lap. Ron immediately ran over to her side, but I stayed back, staring at the lump. Ruffled black hair stood out, blood crusted and greasy. Hermione turned her head onto Ron's shoulder and her quiet sobbing continued. Ron was also looking at the mangled body.

"Bloody 'ell…Neville?"

I walked over to face Hermione and crouched down in front of her. Neville was bruised, pale, and sweaty, even though his skin was clammy. His nose had dried blood all around it and his breathing was shallow, but he was breathing. We were immediately surrounded by the rest of the Weasley family, lifting up Neville and helping us up to get back to the safety of The Burrow. Right before I was in front of the door, I froze, coming to a sudden realization.

"Hermione…" I asked quietly, "Where…where's Luna?"

I heard Hermione behind me let out a small whimper. I turned and faced her, my face full of anger of an unknown origin. Fury was building inside of me, and I clenched my fists to keep from yelling.

"Where. Is. Luna?"

Hermione's scared eyes filled with more tears as she covered her mouth and shook her head. Everyone continued inside, but I stood by the doorway. Luna was…what? What had happened to them? I leaned against the side of the house and slid down to the ground, knowing this was somehow my fault.

After some time, I got up and went inside. Hermione was calmer now, her wounds healed, but her eyes were still bloodshot and scared. Ron had a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her.

"Just tell us what happened, 'Mione."

She took a shaky breath before starting.

"We were walking through Diagon Alley, like we always do before coming here. Luna said someone was following us, so we went and hid on the side of a shop, but someone grabbed us and apparated somewhere. It was dark, and I could hardly see a thing. Neville started screaming next to me, and someone hit me with a Cruciatus Curse. All of us were screaming. When they let go of the curse on me, I grabbed my wand, then Neville and Luna and was about to apparate out, but someone grabbed Luna, and I only made it back with…" tears filled her eyes again, and she let out a sob.

My fists shook, and my eyes went blurry and red.

They took Luna. And Merlin only knows what they are doing to her. She might even be…No! Not another person lost. Not for me. What the bloody hell do they want with Luna? Do they just love taking my friends from me?

I squeezed my eyes shut to keep my anger under control, and tears poured out. My knees hit the ground hard, and I punched the floor with all my might. Someone had their hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay, Harry. We'll find her and…"

"NO!" I screamed. This was the final straw. "IT'S NOT OKAY! THEY CAN'T TAKE ANYONE ELSE AWAY FROM ME! NOT ANYMORE! I CAN'T LOSE ANYONE ELSE! I CAN'T-" my voice cracked. I punched the floor again, but my anger had disappeared, sorrow in its place.

"I can't…lose anyone else."

Hot tears slid down my face. Someone wrapped their arms around my shoulders, but I pushed them off. I got up off the floor and went outside without meeting anyone's eyes. I ran back out into the field, hiding in the tall plants. In a moment, my wand was in my hands, and I disapparated.