Chapter 4

Harry lay on his bed that night, thinking about the day that he had spent with his friends.

He didn't think he'd ever had so much fun before, not even when he was at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts…the name brought forth a fresh load of memories. Hogwarts was the only place he cared about enough to call home. He felt safe there. It was there that he had learnt the meaning of a family. His friends, his teachers, even the castle itself were a part of him, never to be forgotten.

But it was from there that he had learnt the meaning of betrayal, seclusion, sorrow, responsibility, guilt, and most of all, survival, as well. There were good times, and there were bad times, but he still couldn't help relieving the worst memories far more often than the happy ones.

If there was one thing that he had learnt in life, it was that surviving was the most important thing. Guilt, more than any other emotion, dictates nearly all our lives. However, for those who care more about surviving than living, guilt has no place in their lives.

That is exactly what Voldemort is, Harry realized, a person without any feeling, who is solely concentrating on surviving, rather than living. It's amazing how thin the line is, between these two.

At the moment, Harry was standing precariously between them, tottering first towards one, then the other.

On one hand, he wanted to live his life on his own, where he was just an average child, and not the boy-who-lived. A life where he could do whatever he wanted, without the whole world following him like an idol, where he could have some privacy, rather than having his whole life being shouted out to the world.

And on the other hand, he knew that he was too old for these wishes. His life was unusual, and was going to get even more unique. Nothing he could say would change that. Everybody was putting their hope and trusts in him, a 17-year-old boy, whom they had only heard about. They trusted him to keep them safe, to save their loved ones. But who was going to keep him safe? Who would he turn to when he was feeling scared?

Responsibility. Duty. Pressure. Blame.

He was familiar with each of those words. They made up his entire life. But was he strong enough for it?

More importantly, why should he be the one to put up with all this? Why not somebody else? Wasn't he allowed to have his own life? He hadn't asked for this. Then why did he get it?

He suddenly remembered something that Hermione had said to him that morning.

He had been staring at some children playing in the field nearby, while Ron and Hermione were talking about what they should eat for lunch, when suddenly Hermione stopped talking and looked towards him.

She followed his gaze towards the children, and said, in a gentle voice, "Life often deals you a lot of pain. But at long as you walk along your chosen path with a smile, everything will work out."

He was surprised at her words, and had gazed at her, wondering what she was talking about. But she had only smiled at him, shook her head, and continued talking with Ron as if nothing had happened.

He had then dismissed her words, but now they came back to him with such force that he couldn't ignore them anymore.

What was his chosen path? To save the innocent from evil? To destroy Lord Voldemort? To revenge his family's death? Perhaps, it was a mixture of all those things.

Partly, he was doing it for the past, and partly for the future. After all, past, present and future are just words…the barrier that separates them might not be too strong after all.

He remembered all those people whom he had loved and known at some point in his life – his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Cedric, and to an extent, all those people who had sacrificed their lives so that he could live a little longer.

And then he remembered those people whom he still loves, and who are currently still fighting so that he could stay alive for a little while longer – Ron, Hermione, Remus, McGonagall, and the whole of the Order.

Which is stronger? His love for himself, or his love for the world?

He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. He turned around, looking out of the only window in the room. The moonlight filtered through, clothing his room in silver light. It was a silent night; the birds outside were apparently sleeping as well.

The only constant thing in life is time, isn't it? Well, Harry decided, time will tell us the answer to that question when it seems fit to do so.

Amazing, how much one can think about when you've got nothing else to do. Two weeks in a house, with nothing else to do except think can make you realize quite a lot of important things. It can make you think about your actions, and its consequences; your goals, and your path; your wishes, and your reality.

Harry rubbed a hand tiredly over his eyes. Enough of thinking, he decided. Hermione and Ron had gone back to the Burrow for the night, but they had said that they would be back the next day for him.

He shut his eyes, and sighed. Nothing for it, he decided. Might as well get some sleep while he could…after all, tomorrow was going to be a long day.