Life As We Know It

"Salemvira?" He questioned.

Silence.

"You do know that it can't be cured?"

Even more silence.

"No wonder you're in denial.."

Harry was having a great life, but that all changed when he became aware that something was wrong with him.

He tried to figure out what it was.. And when he did, he didn't want to live anymore.

He had Salemvira, an ill-non-cured disease. And he had it.

Twenty-four people out of sixteen-billion people had got Salemvira.

Twelve had gone insane. Six committed suicide. And the other six died by natural causes.

So basically, none had survived.

And this was destined to be Harry's fate. He was destined to die a lonely life by himself.

And it hurt.

His best friends are slowly drifting away from him, his whole House seems to think he's an arrogant-good-for-nothing prat and Malfoy just won't leave him alone.

It seemed to him that after he killed Voldemort, Fate was saying, "Well now you've done your job! So you can now bugger off the face of this planet!"

It hurt...