𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞: 𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

He never thought he'd have to start again.

If only it were that easy. A fresh start. A new life. A new beginning to this horrid nightmare.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when the moon is nowhere to be found and heavy clouds of perspiration cover the stars, he wishes he could just do it all over again.

Perhaps, it would be easier to build another time turner. To take himself back to that night on October thirty-first and kill Voldemort then and there.

Or, he could just let Voldemort him kill him. He could distract his mother, he could confundus his father so that he wouldn't warn her in the first place.

The world would burn up in the flames of wrath from Voldemort. Muggles and Muggleborns would burn along with it... but he would be so much happier, wouldn't he?

Alas, he knew that it was a horribly selfish thing to wish upon someone for his own benefit.

Still, he could acknowledge that his life was not all bad.

As of late, he'd been trying to see the bright side of all the dark elements. So far, he had come up with a short list of reassurances from the past that made his last remaining grasp of life worth-while.

The list, looked something like this:

1. Voldemort is dead. The world is at peace.

2. Ron and Hermione are still alive, and still care about him.

3. Hogwarts is being repaired, it is not in total shambles.

It made him glad that not everything was destroyed in the battle—people and material things. Many were lost, but the battle was won nevertheless.

They had won, and he could sleep easy, knowing that when he woke up, he wouldn't have to fight.