Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. The incomparable J.K. Rowling deserves all the credit.

CHAPTER 2

My experiences at Hogwarts were very fruitful. It was the place to be for all those aspiring to achieve the best in training and education. But I am not here to promote the institution, although I have just recently retired as headmaster after many long years. I am here to share what life was like at Hogwarts, behind the lessons, the classrooms and the quidditch games.

Hogwarts was a place of extremities, where you could find happiness and grief at the same time, where the biggest and the smallest of problems coexist with each other, where pureness and maliciousness go hand in hand, where bravery and cowardice were two standing points and where goodness and evil battle each other.

It was also a place for friendships, love and betrayals. Where something could happen everyday, which would later on shape what was to come. But what made Hogwarts so unforgettable was the fact that my experiences there were unsurpassed by any other event in history, owed to the fact that the montage of the lives of Harry Potter, Ron Weasely, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were unmatched.

The first time I saw Hogwarts, fear and excitement intermingled beneath my senses. There was something magical yet imposing about it, with lights dancing around its stone exterior, as if fairies were prancing around to light the castle. And as I made my way the first time towards its large wooden doors, I couldn't suppress the feeling that this new phase in my life would be something very important.

Life at Hogwarts was splendid. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were an everyday affair and one can't deny oneself of the wonderful pleasures of the food served at the institution. Entertainment was always full blown, from the late and brilliant Professor Dumbledore's welcome speech to the end of the year party. And for the architecture enthusiasts, well, this was heaven for them, with all the twists and turns inside the castle, one could always discover a wonderfully constructed room, arch, or whatever their fancy may be. For the naturalists on the other hand, the sights of the picturesque mountains, gardens and forests were enough to make them fall in love with Hogwarts. Lastly, for the sports lover, Hogwarts would never be complete without a raucous and neck-to-neck game of Quidditch. It was an affair that everyone had to watch. Even those who did not understand the game and those who detested the game could be found in the sidelines, caught in the cheering for their respective teams sooner or later.

Hogwarts, first and foremost, was and is an educational institution. And while we greatly enjoyed all the entertainment that the institution offered, there were also the classes and the lessons we were obliged to attend to. There was Herbology, the most amazing class I had ever attended and the one area of knowledge that I actually excelled in. There was also Charms which was very enjoyable, there was Divination which was always a riot, there was Potions which was the bane of my existence, Care of Magical Creatures which alternates between breathtaking and downright scary and lastly, there was, of course, the Defense Against the Dark Arts, a cursed class they said, which alternated as boring, useful and wonderful, depending on the professor who taught the courses.

While many enjoyable and wonderful things happened at Hogwarts, there were, of course, the currents of sadness, anger, hatred and grief that subtly roamed the corridors of the school. There was the animosity between the houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin. The exchange of bitter remarks, of hurtful insults, of "deliberate accidents", was common between these two houses, highly prevalent during my stay as a student. There were also the other things, not restricted to both houses: the rumor-mill which was legendary because of the unabashed, blatant rumors it circulated that could wreck one's dignity and reputation, the sadness and grief experienced by everyone brought about by the deaths of loved-ones as the war waged on, the danger and fear of Lord Voldemort, and last but not the least, the personal demons we all had to encounter.

But as I had mentioned, nobody had encountered all these grief as much as Harry Potter did. And to this day, I could still recall the time when he suffered one of the most depressing times of his life. I was there, trying to talk to him as he hid from the world, anger and bitterness clawing his soul.

I knew right away that he was there as I entered the dormitory. I could hear his uneven breathing, muffled only by the drapes that surrounded his bed. I also knew the reason why he was hiding himself from the world: Hermione. Moments before, he got into an argument with Hermione, or rather, in a one-sided argument with Hermione, who I recall, never said anything but agree with what he said.

"I've had enough! You have no idea how much I've gone through— how many damning things I had to get through! So don't tell me what to do!" Harry shouted and his face red with fury. He was on the staircase leading to the boy's dormitory and, Hermione was right behind him on the verge of crying, while the rest of us watched from the common room.

"You're right Harry, I'm so sorry," she apologized again and again.

"It's been too much, too much for heaven's sake! Do you think I enjoy being ridiculed in the morning paper? Do you think I bask in the fact that I'm being called insane?"

"No Harry, of course you don't, I understand--"

"Do you think I like the idea of having the murderer of half of the population clinging on my back, trying to kill me every chance he gets? Do you think I enjoy trying to kill myself for the sake of saving the world from his hands?"

"No Harry, you do not--"

"And do you think that I enjoy living my life like this? Do you think I'd rather be on guard all the time, getting scared of my own shadow rather than enjoy life like the rest are doing? Do you know how much I'd like to wake up one day without any troubles, madness and danger? To be able to laugh without thinking that this might be the last laugh I'll ever give out, to--"

Harry stopped short. It was too painful. I could see that he tried to stop the tears that formed on his eyes, but to no avail. And Hermione broke down already; she was on her knees with her face flushed and tears on her face. At that moment I realized just how much pain he was in. Hermione felt that too. It was a heartbreaking sight.

Soon, they both realized that they were not alone. Harry shook his head then hurriedly ran up to his room and banged the door. Hermione stayed rooted on the spot, unable to move.

"She looks like the tragic Madonna," Dean whispered behind me. It was only later on that I understood what he meant.

"Harry!" I finally called out, an hour after I entered the room. I felt that he wanted to talk, but gave him time so as not to intrude in his privacy.

"Harry, I know what you feel," I mumbled quietly. There was no response. I heard his uneven breathing; I felt it echo in the crevices of the room.

"How would you know?" he suddenly asked. He caught me off-guard. "You never experienced half of what I did," he continued.

For the first time I was the one who couldn't say anything. He was right; I never experienced anything close to what he had. I was flustered, but I knew that I had to make him to talk to calm himself down.

"Everyday I envy the person beside me, the person eating his cereal without a care in the world, the person copying down notes whose only trouble is to be able to pass Transfiguration, do you get what I'm trying to say Neville?"

"I--" I started, but he didn't let me continue.

"And then there's me who has to be on guard all the time, knowing that any second I could be dead. There is so much I have to do. I have to live up to the expectations of the people because of one stupid scar, I have to allow myself to be degraded and to suffer from the hands of just about anyone because I'm the loony St. Potter. Tell me Neville, don't you think that this is enough torture already or am I just exaggerating it?"

"No Harry, you're not exaggerating--"

"And how can I forgive myself? Barking Hermione's head off when she's done nothing. Do you know how much it breaks my heart as I watch her accept the bitter words I spat out? And there she was trying to stop herself from crying while I go on and on hurting her; I'm a monster, Neville."

"She understands Harry,"

"Of course she understands! And I've treated her like hell,"

"You can always ask for forgiveness,"

"I've hurt her so much that asking for forgiveness wouldn't make any difference,"

"It would Harry, it would,"

"I think it's better for me to kill myself," he spat.