Epilogue to My Life
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Characters related to Harry Potter belong to JK. Rowling.
Author's Notes: Yep, yet another Harry Potter fic, inspired by some personal emotions and what I predict the plot to be once the series is finished. Enjoy.
Journal
Dear Sirius,
I still haven't figured out why I keep writing you, maybe it's in hope that maybe you'll return my unsent letters one day. As silly as the idea is, you've sort of become my only outlet … like a journal.
With each passing day, I find myself more and more hopeless. My life leading up to the war was filled with excitement and adventures to fulfill my goal, and once that has been met … I find myself alone often just swimming in my own thoughts. Others have learned to leave me alone when I go into that stage, but still I can't help but wish someone would at least try to pull me out.
Before the war, I hated attention, every little bit I received from the press or public was ill-received by me. But now, with my two best friends fearful of what I've become, death has by far exceeded everything else in life. I can almost feel the sweet release of it. What is my purpose in life now that Voldemort is a thing of the past? Wasn't that what I was born to do, and now that my destiny has been fulfilled, what is left for me in this world?
I mean, no one ever expected me to survive, I have realised that people are selfish. They looked up to me as their protector from Voldemort, nothing more. I once saw Ron and Hermione as just simply friends with no strings attached, but even the purest of friendships once touched by fowl misery and metamorphosis will fade into nothing.
I'm glad for them, Ron and Hermione, I mean. They've for so long suffered with me, it would be unfair to ask them to stick with me. After all, they're just teenagers too, enjoying each other's company as boyfriend and girlfriend. Who am I to interfere with that? If they wish to ignore me altogether, who is to say they shouldn't? For weeks now, they act as if nothing has changed although the observant notice them holding hands and occasionally hugging around the corner. Am I jealous? No … I don't think. Hermione, to me, has just been a sweet companion and friend, never meaning to be anything more. Yeah, I liked her, we tried to do something about it, but Ron's gloomy expressions and quick-tempered personality impeded us more than we would've liked. In the end, we separated with a mutual respect. It was probably the stupidest thing I've ever done; breaking up with the girl I loved … possibly still love.
Harry
A/N: A short chapter, I know. I just wanted to start the piece on something small and let it blossom in the coming chapters. Reviews are greatly appreciated.
