To Have a Home

A Bitter End

Broken...

Trapped...

Tired...

               Harry James Potter sat in the darkness of his bedroom at Number 4 Privet Drive, contemplating how his life had gone so wrong. It seemed as if he attracted danger. After fighting Quirrel over the Sorcerer's Stone, opening the Chamber of Secrets, dealing with the hysteria of Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, and being forced into the Tri-Wizard Tournament before witnessing a student's death and facing off with Voldemort, it's no wonder Harry felt that he was a walking death magnet. Quite a few of his friends had stopped talking to him after the Tri-Wizard Tournament had concluded, due to rumors that he was the one who had murdered Cedric. His two best friends, Ron and Hermione had neglected to write to him over the entirety of the summer holidays. By the looks they had given him as they boarded the train ride back to Kings Cross Station, and the fact that they did not sit with him on the journey, Harry realized that the two had believed the gossip that had been spreading like wildfire. All of the Weasleys had given Harry the cold shoulder as they got onto the train, which gave Harry a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

               Harry never looked forward to coming back to Surrey, because it meant an entire summer filled with physical, emotional, and verbal abuse from the Dursleys. Of course, Harry couldn't blame them. They were forced to take him in when his parents had been killed by Voldemort. From a very young age, Harry knew he wasn't wanted. Sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs and serving the three other occupants of the home like a house elf was the only life Harry had ever known before he turned 11. The boy would sometimes catch himself thinking about what would have happened if he had died that Halloween night along with his parents. He wouldn't have been the Boy-Who-Lived, the martyr of the wizarding world. He wouldn't have been Dumbledore's little "golden child" and the key to fulfilling the damn prophecy. He would have been just another name on the long list of witches and wizards killed by the most evil wizard of all time. After more than a decade of abuse from the Dursleys, Harry was slowly beginning to unravel, and more often than not, wished that he had died that night. If he had, he never would have been forced to live where he wasn't wanted. Death was starting to sound preferrable to his hell hole of a life.

               In two days time, Harry would have to get on the Hogwarts Express and go to the place that he once thought of as his only home. He knew he couldn't face the accusing glares of the other students, especially Ron and Hermione. He remembered how he had practically begged Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts over the summer in his first year. He also remembered how the old headmaster had tried to explain that he was safest in Surrey due to the blood wards bound by love from a family member. The young boy had silently questioned how blood wards could keep himself safe when there was no love for him within the walls of Number 4 Privet Drive. After two consecutive years of begging, Harry had given up hope. He would have taken anything over the Dursleys; he would have even preferred staying with Snape. However, he was dismissed every time.

               Bringing himself back to the present, Harry looked down at his hands, his fingers running over the shiny object that he held. He had managed to swipe one of Vernon's guns from his closet when he was forced to clean the house, which included Vernon and Petunia's bedroom. He glanced towards the empty cage that sat in the corner of the room, and then at the open window. Harry had written a myriad of final goodbye letters to everyone who he felt necessary. First, he wrote to Dumbledore and Mcgonagall, explaining how he couldn't bear the weight placed upon him from being the Boy-Who-Lived, and how he could not take any more of the abuse he had suffered since he was 2 years old. He wrote one letter to Ron and Hermione, who he knew would be spending their summer holidays together at the burrow. He thanked them for their friendship, even though it was short-lived. He told them that they were his very first friends, and that he doesn't blame them for siding with everyone else when he needed them the most.

               He wrote a letter to Sirius and Remus, apologizing for what he was going to do. A large portion of the letter was informing Sirius and Remus that they were to get everything that was kept within the Potter Vault. Harry confided that he will be happy after he is gone, and that he will finally get to be with his parents who had sacrificed themselves for him so long ago. A letter was sent to Malfoy, dictating that the Gryffindor regretted not accepting his friendship invitation back in first year. Lastly, he wrote a letter to Snape. The young teen had used 3 feet of parchment for the final letter. He had so much he wanted to convey to the man who had made his life difficult while attending Hogwarts. He expressed how the dark potions master never saw the real Harry, and how looks can be deceiving, which Snape would understand well, considering his role in the Order. The raven haired boy finished every letter the same: