Authors Note: I would like you all to know that most of this plot line has
been made from personal experience. The ending though is not how it turned
out for me. (Yes I have an ending!) ;) Enjoy!
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, my name would be J.K. Rowling. Thank
you.
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Chapter 1- The Memories
Up in his room on Privet Drive, he sat quietly with his quill out. He slowly started to write on the parchment in front of him. This letter, however, was not one you would expect Harry Potter to be writing. During the summer Harry had decided he wanted his seventh year at Hogwarts to be significant. It wasn't that the rest of his years there weren't incredible, but he wanted his last year to be special. With Voldemort gone Harry thought he might be able to relax, or at least not worry as much. He knew that nothing would take away the guilt he had. Harry still felt that it was he was responsible for all the people who died. Many of them had died while saving Harry's life. His godfather, Sirius, had brought Harry a new sense of happiness and now he was gone. His best friend Ron was gone too and Hermione who still had not come out of her coma.
It was at the times when Harry thought of these things, he wished his life was normal. He wished he never had to fight some all powerful, evil wizard or even be wizard himself. His imagination sometimes carried him to a world with parents, and friends, and public school. Where no one would know him as 'Harry Potter.' The only people he had ever known to trust in him as a person and not a hero were Hermione, Ron, and Sirius. He felt his heart breaking into even smaller pieces. He never said goodbye. He never said he was sorry. He never said he loved then that last time. He never thought...
Harry felt himself slipping from reality. He didn't want to lose anyone else close to him, so he didn't want anyone close. But he also knew if he lived his life by himself he would be miserable like he used to be in his cupboard under the stairs. Long nights with nothing to look forward to, no one to talk to, no one to be loved by, nothing. Harry had his hopes that Hermione would get better and everything would go back to how it was. He knew he was joking himself. Things would never be the same, Ron was gone. The doctors wouldn't tell Harry when Hermione would get better but he could read it in their eyes. She wasn't.
Over the past summer, the Dursley's hadn't really been too bad to Harry. They left him on his own most of the time. He had, after all, saved the world and their lives. With his new peace Harry would run. He would run everyone morning and every night. Run hard. Push all of his other thought out of his head. Running helped him forget. Forget the faces of all the people he watched die, all the people he loved. As a result of this, and the fact that he rarely ate, Harry had become even skinnier. But he was strong and he wouldn't let Voldemort ruin the rest of his life.
Harry signed his name and reread over his letter. He sighed, it wasn't what he wanted, but then he never wanted to say these things to him. He had no choice. He had to send the letter. No matter the response he had to tell him before he lost him, just like everyone else. He couldn't leave anything else unsaid. Tying the letter to Hedwig, he wished her the best, and sent her off. He slid back into bed and found it was 2:38 on his alarm clock. He had three hours to sleep before he ran.
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Thank you for reading! Please review! I'm sorry this chapter was short, but it was only the beginning so the rest will be longer I swear! ~~ Conner ~~
* * * * *
Chapter 1- The Memories
Up in his room on Privet Drive, he sat quietly with his quill out. He slowly started to write on the parchment in front of him. This letter, however, was not one you would expect Harry Potter to be writing. During the summer Harry had decided he wanted his seventh year at Hogwarts to be significant. It wasn't that the rest of his years there weren't incredible, but he wanted his last year to be special. With Voldemort gone Harry thought he might be able to relax, or at least not worry as much. He knew that nothing would take away the guilt he had. Harry still felt that it was he was responsible for all the people who died. Many of them had died while saving Harry's life. His godfather, Sirius, had brought Harry a new sense of happiness and now he was gone. His best friend Ron was gone too and Hermione who still had not come out of her coma.
It was at the times when Harry thought of these things, he wished his life was normal. He wished he never had to fight some all powerful, evil wizard or even be wizard himself. His imagination sometimes carried him to a world with parents, and friends, and public school. Where no one would know him as 'Harry Potter.' The only people he had ever known to trust in him as a person and not a hero were Hermione, Ron, and Sirius. He felt his heart breaking into even smaller pieces. He never said goodbye. He never said he was sorry. He never said he loved then that last time. He never thought...
Harry felt himself slipping from reality. He didn't want to lose anyone else close to him, so he didn't want anyone close. But he also knew if he lived his life by himself he would be miserable like he used to be in his cupboard under the stairs. Long nights with nothing to look forward to, no one to talk to, no one to be loved by, nothing. Harry had his hopes that Hermione would get better and everything would go back to how it was. He knew he was joking himself. Things would never be the same, Ron was gone. The doctors wouldn't tell Harry when Hermione would get better but he could read it in their eyes. She wasn't.
Over the past summer, the Dursley's hadn't really been too bad to Harry. They left him on his own most of the time. He had, after all, saved the world and their lives. With his new peace Harry would run. He would run everyone morning and every night. Run hard. Push all of his other thought out of his head. Running helped him forget. Forget the faces of all the people he watched die, all the people he loved. As a result of this, and the fact that he rarely ate, Harry had become even skinnier. But he was strong and he wouldn't let Voldemort ruin the rest of his life.
Harry signed his name and reread over his letter. He sighed, it wasn't what he wanted, but then he never wanted to say these things to him. He had no choice. He had to send the letter. No matter the response he had to tell him before he lost him, just like everyone else. He couldn't leave anything else unsaid. Tying the letter to Hedwig, he wished her the best, and sent her off. He slid back into bed and found it was 2:38 on his alarm clock. He had three hours to sleep before he ran.
* * * * *
Thank you for reading! Please review! I'm sorry this chapter was short, but it was only the beginning so the rest will be longer I swear! ~~ Conner ~~