Disclaimer: I don't own any characters that are named in this fic. So get over it, already.

Basic Storyline: Harry Potter himself is narrating the story, or "essay" if you will. And if you must know, this is for Muggle Studies, in which they are studying philosophies of Muggles.

A/N: This shall be a one-chapter deal. You can also read a poem written by Harry about the loss of Sirius (titled 'I Watched You Leave').

***

Ever wonder what happens when you lose the only family you've ever had? the only family you've ever loved? the only family you've ever truly known and cared about?

Well I'm going to tell you. It starts out normally...the regular day of a throbbingly painful scar. And then you get this vision that your godfather (who just also happens to act as your brother/father) is being tortured at the hand of your mortal enemy. So, jumping into conclusions and not thinking that this just might be a trap that your mortal enemy just wants you there, you run to save the day.....

...like you always do.

And turns out, your best friend was right. She said that it was just a trick. And then.....your only family dies. Doesn't that sound brutal? Well, get used to it. Because that's exactly what life is: brutal, unmerciful, and uncaring. It couldn't care less if you died. What makes your godfather any different? Nothing really. Like I said earlier, life doesn't care if you died. It could care ever less.

Somehow, I believe that all of this is my fault. Not my mortal enemy, not my godfather (who stupidly comes to save me and dies in the process), but my own. Now, it may seem like I'm being hard on myself, but it doesn't matter anymore. Life is hard. So why can't I be hard to live with, too?

You thought that this was the end of the essay, didn't you? Ha-ha. You were wrong...just like I was that one time that cost my godfather his life. It's actually kind of funny...

...if you like that kind of stuff. Personally, I think that it's quite ironic. I see my godfather die in a "vision," which wasn't even true, so he lives. Then he comes to save me, and he dies ANYWAY. Poo stinkin' who!

I must pause and apologize if any of this content disturbs you in any way. Honestly, I'm truly sorry. But if you don't care, that's just fine with me, because I don't care either. But if it does bother you, then I suggest you pop your eyes out because the following content may contain the following: depression, despair, and discontentment.

I hate life. I hate the fact that my godfather lost his for my own. I hate the fact that he's not here anymore, and that I had to live. I didn't want to live, if I knew that I was going to guilty about my godfather's death the whole bloody time. Suspend me if you wish, Professor, for saying a word like "bloody" in a school essay, but I'm using words that express what I feel.

Yes, well, now that we're drawing a close end to this essay, I must say one more thing: I miss my godfather very, very much. And sometimes, I can hear his voice murmuring into my ear like a crazy man bent on world domination.

Now, I must say good-bye to hand-aches from writing this essay, and hello to a new life without the person that loved me as much I loved him: a lot.

-Harry Potter, 6th year: Gryffindor