One-hundred and twenty-eight. Though not quite legendary, it was certainly a long, good life. Harry was only scared to leave those behind without a few good stories. So he wrote down every regret on his mind. Fate governed his life for so long, but he never got to complain to anyone. It was only fitting that on his 128th birthday, he'd get one last say on the record of his life.
"I'd like to make an announcement, before you give me that dreadful cake, Ron." Even at his death bed, Harry surprised himself.
"Ah, alright." Ron sighed with exhaustion on his aged brow. He had taken to watching the children play, oblivious to the stories.
"I wanted to write down my regrets in this life, so when I go through the veil, I go through it the right way. I should not have lived this long, given all of my mistakes, but I'm glad to share this moment with all of you. Well, let's begin, no particular order:
I have to apologize Ron, for not grabbing that chocolate frog First Year. We really needed that luck.
Hermoine, I wish I didn't ask so many stupid questions.
Ginny, I was the one who stole your favorite quill in Alchemy."
A lot of the beginning regrets were meant to bring a bit of levity to what he was about to say afterwards. After he'd addressed everyone he could, he began to breathe heavily. This was the harder part of his list.
"I want to apologize to those we have lost over the years…"
Harry gave a pause at first, before continuing over a winding series of each doubt. He could fill a book with all of the mistakes he made as a father, as an Auror, even as a Chosen One. But his time was running out, he watched as some of the members left the room, as he tried to get as many as he could.
"I wish there were more people with us…I'm still waiting for Albus. He said he'd be here in a few days, what's keeping him?" Harry's voice trailed off, bodily fatigue slowly dragging out his sentences, as his vision grew dark.
"Harry, he isn't coming until morning." Ginny sighed with teary eyes.
But there was no response, Harry couldn't see her face, nor the faces of anyone in the room. Soon, his hearing was flushed by a panicked hush, a few sobs let out as he passed over. The only sight or sound was booming white light in the very center of his sight. Harry knew this was his time, he made it through the list, but something simmered under his lip.
It wasn't a tear, but he was still hesitant to walk forward. Harry wasn't afraid to go, but he heard a whisper in the back of his mind.
Our Condolences, Mister Potter
"What, who is that? What is that? Who are you?! I wasn't done!" Harry shouted out into the Void.
Silence. Harry's hand gripped tightly at his side, as he produced his wand, pointing down into the Void, He backpedaled toward the light, and though he could feel the warmth of its pull, there was a lack of sound. That voice drained some bit of heaven, and it aggravated him.
"Lumos!" A brilliant light sprang out from the tip of his wand, and before long he felt a sudden rush of cold brush past him.
In the same instance, the Void swallowed the light, and he fluttered awake.
"What? Where am I?" Harry began to look around, with a sharper sight than he'd had in years.
Two colors stuck out to him in this elaborate room: a cold silver, and a deep green.