Disclaimer: I own nothing of J.K.Rowling's.

Ch1: To Continue Living

'I don't want to live.'

Life isn't worth it. Nothing that is happening to me is worth it. I feel dead and hurt, but I walk around completely healthy.

So, why didn't they live?

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, together in death.

Sirius Black, misunderstood until the end.

Remus Lupin, where a strong heart defeated the soul.

…

and on

….

And on

…

and on.

And, now I'm sick of it. I'm sick down to my core. A sickness Madam Pomphrey failed to heal. I can't take it. No longer, do I want to be the Boy Who Lived. Who helped the whole Wizarding world. Where at every corner I turn, people know my name, shake my hand, congratulate me.

I don't want to know why I have this filthy scar, which penetrates to my soul. I'm cursed; everything is gone. I would have rather died an anyone, than stay alive right now as a hero.

'Exuse me, Harry.'

I was sitting in Dumbledore's office in Hogwarts, like old times, watching him from across his messy desk. I looked up into his ever twinkling eyes and repeated, 'I don't want to live.'

'Now, Harry,' said Dumbledore soothingly, 'You can't possibly mean that. Look at all the good you've done. Many people love you; you can't just want to die.'

'There is nothing left for me anymore, Dumbledore,' I said quietly, 'everything I ever wanted, ever expected,' I looked away from those blue eyes, 'from a magical world was never left for me.'

'Harry Potter, you are famous,' said Dumbledore wisely, 'you could go anywhere you would want to go. Any job would accept you, just because of what you have done. How you have helped us all.'

'Have I helped?' I asked, steering my tearful eyes to Dumbledore's clear one's. 'If I have, I don't care. I lost my heart with those I love. And, they,' I said angrily,' are buried in mud. Killed brutally… just…' I turned my head away again, 'I don't want to remember… anything, ever again…I don't want to know about anything.'

'Harry,' said Dumbledore, with slight surprise in his eyes, 'you cannot be serious…'

'I am,' I nearly shouted; my anger vibrated about the room, knocking an ornament off Dumbledore's desk. 'I don't want to know about anything. I don't want these memories and nightmares of Cedric, and Hermione's cry and….' I paused fighting back tears, 'to always haunt me. I want to forget everything.

I want to forget Cedric, the TriWizard Tournament. I want to forget those Death Eaters, the awful mark that killed Snape in the end. I don't want to remember giants and dementors, werewolves, unicorns…

I don't want to remember that I could have been sorted into Slytherin, that I went to Gryffindor. I want to forget everything. Hogwarts, my wand, wizards and witches, and even you Professor, even you…'

I dropped my head and buried my face in my hands. Slowly, I looked back up to Dumbledore's no longer twinkling eyes. 'I thought magic could heal all wounds and solve all problems, and make the world a beautiful place. But, instead,' my green eyes flashed against the light, 'it gave me a scar and cut me a wound that is just too deep to heal.'

Looking up into Dumbledore's face I hoped against hope that he who knew everything and so much more than the ordinary, would understand how I felt.

'As you wish my dear boy,' he said, tears glittering in his eyes, 'as you wish.'

'Ladies and gentlemen, we have you gathered here today by the request of the Savior Harry Potter.'

A sickeningly loud applause followed with lots of whistling and happy words. I sat upon the stage, looking down at the audience of important witches and wizards all seated happily, without a notion of what was about to happen.

'Harry Potter,' Ludo Bagman announced, then gestured towards me. But, I pointed towards Dumbledore, feeling unusually relaxed in my chair. 'Would like Albus Dumbledore to say a few words.'

Professor Dumbledore stood up slowly, and for once I truly realized how old he really was. For all his greatness he was really 150 or so years old. I pondered upon this as he spoke to the audience. I saw their reactions… the gasps… glances my way…

But, I didn't care.

The aching inside me couldn't hold anymore feeling.

'No, you can't!' shouted the familiar voice of Mrs. Weasley, 'he's the only boy I have left!'

'You can't destroy him, he's our savior!'

…various protests…

'This is what Mr. Potter wants, my fellow wizards, and if you truly love him,' at this his voice hitched, 'you will let him decide what he wants.'

Then the whole room was filled with a loud silence.

I stood up and walked to the front of the stage. 'What I want is to forget about all this… the good and the bad. I want to forget my friends who are no longer there for me. I want to forget… those I killed. I want to forget the awful evil that was in this world. I even want to forget magic, just…just obliviate my memory.'

The audience was silently stricken by my short speech. Soon, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned around to face Dumbledore.

'You all heard him,' he announced, since Bagman was at loss of words for the first time in his life, 'it's time.'

'We'll miss you Harry,' he said looking towards me. He took my hand in a weak shake, then quickly pulled me into a strong hug. Letting go, he took my wand.

The audience gasped and I heard someone cry as he took out his own. Soon, the dark brown wood was level with my forehead.

I closed my eyes and waited for the magic to finish what it started. I waited, but nothing happened.

Opening my eyes, I looked at Dumbledore. The man had tears streaming freely down his face as he said slowly but loudly,

'Goodbye, Harry James Potter.'

'please don't…mr. potter…don't do it…'

'Obliviate!'

I closed my eyes tightly, as I felt a strong wind pick me up and throw me back. And, I fell

into

darkness.

'Wake up, wake up Harry…

Harry… come on,'

I groaned as I felt a small push, and heard slight laughter. Light, quiet happy laughter.

'Anna,' I said, yawning, 'not now.'

'You'll be late, again,' said the dirty blonde, 'You know what you're boss is like, come on sleepy head,' she grinned and pulled me out of bed.

'Ok, ok,' I said, walking to the bathroom. I dressed, then walked out, shirt still unbuttoned. 'Uh, Anne, do you know where my tie is?'

'Which one?' she asked, shouting from the kitchen in our apartment.

'That one, you know, the one that's red with the light gold streaks,' I said, walking around the room. I walked out of the room and into the kitchen.

'Hey Tom,' I called to the little boy sitting on the kitchen table. Dropping his spoon in his cereal, he jumped up and came running to his father.

'Dad! Dad!' the messy black haired boy jumped up and down. 'Can I come to work with you today! Please, please, please!'

'Not today, Tom, you've got school, remember?' I said, looking down at the pouting boy. But, there was something wrong with the pout; it seemed the mischievous spark in his eyes was hiding something.

'Will you let me come, if I tell you where your tie is?' he asked cheekily, grinning a very toothy grin.

'Hmm…' I put on one of my thoughtful faces, 'sure.'

'Cool,' he cried and ran out of the room to get my tie.

'Harry,' Anne said, 'you can't just let him skip school. His principal takes summer school very seriously.'

'What's one day of school? Anyways, I'll teach him something at work,' I said grabbing my coat and the cup of tea on the table.

'See ya, Mum,' Tom cried, racing after me down the stairs holding the red tie like a banner.

Walking out the door of the apartment building, with Tom I knelt down and picked up a newspaper. We walked down the street of busy London and waited to cross the street. The light turned red and we crossed as a line of cars stopped.

Today looked like it was going to be good weather, I thought looking up into the cloudless blue sky. What a great day.

I got to the other side of the street and strolled down a few more blocks before making it to work.

'Potter!' came the shout as I entered my office. Leaving Tom to the computer to play games, I walked into my boss's office.

'I'm not late this time,' I said, pointing towards the wooden clock on the fat man's wall.

'No, you're just in time… with a child?!' said the boss.

'Just a day,' I said sincerely, 'he's mature, and won't do any damage…'

Suddenly, a loud beeping noise started erupting from my office. I ran back into the room and found Tom staring at the computer in horror. 'It wasn't me,' he cried.

Getting the situation under control, I walked slowly to the boss's office. 'Sorry, about that,' I said, looking downwards and pushing my glasses up my nose. 'How about, I go down and get some coffee? Starbucks is just a block away.'

'Yes,' the boss sighed, 'you do that. And tell your son not to cause any more trouble.'

Exiting the building, I walked down an alley. Suddenly, I bumped into someone and heard books fall. I turned around and picked up the books and handed it to an older woman. Quickly, she held them and barely glanced at me with a nod. All of a sudden, she did a double take and dropped all her books again. 'Mrs…' I questioned, looking down at the books.

She didn't move, so I picked up the books to hand to her again, but her eyes were riveted to my scar. 'Oh, it's nothing,' I said, pushing back the messy hair, 'just a car accident.'

The woman looked me in the eyes, and I noticed she was wearing long robes and had her hair tied back in a tight bun. 'My boy,' she said, tears in her eyes as her hand came up to touch my cheek, 'oh, my boy.'

'It's nothing maam,' I said, again. I handed her her books, and caught the cover

of one. It said something like 'Transfiguration.'

'What kind of book is that, maam,' I asked, as she looked down at the book.

Quickly, she hid the cover, then answered in a quiet tone, 'Nothing, my boy… just…just go on, be…happy.' She looked at me again, then her hand left my cheek and she walked away very quickly.

I picked up three cups of coffee, after all, it was time that Tom had his first coffee. I grinned happily at the thought. Walking back through the same alleyway, I noticed an unusual store that seemed all boarded up. It had been there for the past twelve years. Maybe before, but after the accident I couldn't remember.

The only thing I had left from the accident was my check book and a wallet with my name and identity in it.

Suddenly, I was jerked out of my thoughts, by the commotion of a fight up ahead.

A child's voice, 'It's my snake!'

Tom's voice, 'I just wanted to play with it!'

I started running. Why had Tom come out of the office?

Then a man's voice, 'Don't touch him. Harry, don't talk to the muggle.' I arrived at the scene to see a pale blonde man standing beside a boy -probably his son- who had dirty blonde hair. The man was also holding a coffee in his hand. Tom was looking at something in the other boy's hands.

'Boy,' the man continued, 'where are your parents? Don't just go and wander mindlessly.'

'He's my son, thank you very much,' I said sharply, putting my hand on Tom's shoulder, holding the coffee in the other hand.

Suddenly, the pale blonde man looked at me quickly. His whole body seemed to jerk, and he gasped, 'Oh Merlin,' as his coffee spilled on the floor. His gray eyes widened and stared at me. His eyes looked back and forth between my own green eyes. Then he looked up at my scar and at my black hair.

'You're his… he's your…' he gestured to Tom. It seemed even his son was in shock as he also looked at me.

'Yes, this is my son, Tom,' I said, with steel in my tone.

'This is my son, Harry,' he gestured to his son, who was still quiet with shock. 'Exuse my…,' he paused, gaping , 'his…' he pointed to his son, 'and… and…thank you.'

I was about to say something, when he continued, 'Thank you Potter, thank you.'

And, with that, he turned around and walked away.

'Dad, how did the man know your name?' Tom asked, taking a coffee from the set I was holding.

'I have absolutely no idea,' I said, watching the man's back. His blonde hair reflected the light so stunningly.

Suddenly, for the first time in my life, since the accident, I felt a memory crawling in the back of my mind. A memory of the past. I tried to hold onto it, but once my conscious mind seemed to realize it was there, the memory slid away.

'I can't remember,' I said.

'Dad,' said Tom, in a slightly scared tone, 'uh, I sorta did something to your computer… again,' he looked at me, then grinned widely.

'Oh, no,' I said, then went upstairs to fix the mess.

And think of the one I had forgotten.

That man's son was named Harry.

And, just before that women seemed to know me as well.

Maybe, it was from before the accident.

Maybe, I should find out about who Harry Potter really is.

Authors Note: Well, do you think I should continue… I have some good ideas, but I'll only continue if people will actually read it.