What is living life as a hero?

"What is living life as a hero if you can't even spend the rest of it with the people you care about most?"

I'm tired. That's what it is. I'm tired of my life, my family, my nearly dissolved fame, my constant appearance in the paper due to controversy with me. I'm tired. What's the point in living if there's nothing to live for. I hate my wife, she hates me back. I don't even know if I love my kids. My 'friends' left me, it's not like I give a shit, though. I can't even look at myself without seeing the absolute piece of shit dad i dont even know. It's no surprise why the dungeon bat hated me, I looked exactly like his tormentor, but still, I was my own person. You also still forget my mum's the woman you loved. The amount of hate he had for one child was pathetic.

It's no surprise I have a burning hatred for the man that orchestrated all of this. My life. Both before and after his death. The war. Everyone else. Even Voldemort's life. He was playing chess, while the whole of Britain were the pieces.

So I took my own life. I told those I killed by merely existing a goodbye, I told Tom I forgave him before I muttered those oh-so familiar words and everything fell black.

Little did I know my prayers of mercy would be answered.