Butterflies and Hurricanes
Harry Potter and co. belongs to JK Rowling. The title of this song comes from a song by Muse. This used to be a songfics but I didn't want my account to be deleted so I had to get rid of the lyrics. If you have the song I'd advise listening to it while reading this.
All he had ever wanted was to be a normal kid. To have parents who loved him. To have to whole world not realize he existed. But of course that couldn't happen. He was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. He felt that the Boy Who Existed would be a better title. For though he existed, one could hardly say that he was living.
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He decided that he really hated prophecies. And Trelawney. Hell, he hated the entire subject of Divination. Who was a stupid prophecy to tell him how to live his life? What would have happened if he had sided with Voldemort instead of Dumbledore? Would they both have been able to live together then? No, he decided. As much as he hated to admit it, the prophecy was right. As long as Voldemort was still alive, Harry had no chance whatsoever of having a normal life. Which was why Harry was determined to kill him.
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The training process had been long and difficult. Hours upon hours of studying and practicing different spells that Dumbledore felt would benefit him. Some of the spells Harry was sure he would never use, but he learned them anyway. His days of negligence were over. The time had come to start acting like an adult, and being an adult meant listening to what other people had to say and following orders without complaint. Harry had started to sleep with a picture of Bellatrix Lestrange beside his bed—the picture that he had stolen from Kreacher's "bedroom" after he had killed the little devil. He found it motivational. He promised himself that as soon as Voldemort was dead, Bellatrix Lestrange would die next.
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Harry had to admit that Fudge had done a lot to boost the public's attentiveness. After the article announcing Voldemort's return had been published, people started to realize that Harry had been telling the truth all along. Everywhere he went people would stop him and tell him how they had believed him all along. While the extra attention was annoying, Harry found he could use it to his advantage. The public now believed absolutely everything that he told them. All over the place, people were taking lessons on dueling, educating their children so that they would be prepared to fight back. And while Harry was glad that people were finally taking this war seriously, the sight of eight-year-olds training for war broke his heart.
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The final days before the final battle seemed to speed by, Harry pushing himself to keep on studying, making sure that he knew every single spell that could possibly come in handy for the fight.
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Ignoring his fatigue, Harry kept on training, making sure that he perfected every spell that he had read about. Though he had no appetite, he forced himself to continue eating. After all, what good was all that training if were to pass out from starvation before the fight even began.
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He would not fail his friends who had stood by him until the very end. He would not fail the thousands of people counting on him to save them. He would not fail his parents and Sirius, who had died so that he could live. He would not fail his only purpose in life. He would not fail this war.
A/N:
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