InsaneJournal

History

Childhood
Harry was a lonely child. An orphan left with a cruel aunt and uncle and an even crueler cousin. He learned early that he was unlovable, and that he could never truly count on anyone. He had no friends, and never expected to make any. Not gifted with a strong imagination, Harry wasn't even able to pretend that he lived somewhere else. This was just life. It would never get any better.

Hogwarts
If you had known him as a boy you would have said Harry Potter was the least likely child in the universe to be a wizard. Dull, drab, empty eyed Harry, special? No. Never. And yet the letters came, hundreds of them, and a giant burst into an old wooden shack on his eleventh birthday. Harry went from being nothing to being the most famous wizard alive. It was a lot to deal with. But for the first time in his life Harry felt a bit of hope. He would be out of his uncle's house, out from under Dudley's shadow. Maybe things could be different.

The first four years of Hogwarts were like a dream for Harry. He found his first real friend in Ron, and then Hermione. He wasn't alone anymore, and those friendships would literally save the world. He did have to face Giant snakes, dementors, dragons and Voldemort, but the good things far out outweighed the bad and he was truly happy.

The other constant in his life, whether he liked it or not, was Draco Malfoy. Their rivalry started the moment they met, and they butted heads constantly the entire time they were in school together. Harry had what could be considered an unhealthy fixation on Draco. He was constantly wondering what the other boy was up to, and was convinced that he was at the bottom of most of Harry's problems. The fact that he was often right didn't make his obcession any less strange. He never learned how to just walk away from Draco, and spent way too much time thinking about him. Sometimes Draco even invaded his dreams. Most were closer to nightmares, but occasionally the dreams were more on the confusing side. Draco shouldn't end up shirtless in so many of their dream arguments...

fifth and sixth years were a whirlwind of angst, danger and heartbreak. With Ron and Hermione at his side he was able to make it through the fire, barely. Losing Sirius and then Dumbledore was devastating. But Voldemort was back, and Harry was the only one who could stop him.

The War
Harry didn't return to Hogwarts for his seventh year. Instead he, Ron, and Hermione went out in search of the Horcruxes. However, the discovery of the Deathly Hallows became the biggest obsession Harry ever had. The ability to conquer death… he couldn't imagine anything more appealing. His parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore. So many mistakes he could make right. But more than that, it might mean he'd survive. The prophecy had been running in the back of his mind ever since he first heard it. Neither can live. Neither can live. Harry knew that when it came down to him or Voldemort, he wasn't going to be the one who walked away. But if he was the master of death, maybe, just maybe, he'd have a chance.

In the end it didn't matter. Harry saw the destruction around him, the death, and he couldn't let it continue. Remus and Tonks, Lavender, Colin. Fred. And dozens of others. No. Harry knew how to stop it all, and he was ready.

He wished he could have said goodbye to his friends, but they would have just tried to stop him. Besides, nothing he said to them now could describe how he truly felt about them. He would just have to believe that they knew. He walked into that forest with his parents beside him, and he never expected to walk out. He was ready to die.

But he didn't.

When he woke up to Narcissa Malfoy kneeling beside him he didn't know what to think. He did know that she could have easily ended him right then and there, but she didn't. Her love for her son was greater than any loyalty to Voldemort. So, he lived. He waited, and when the moment was right he faced Voldemort for the last time. It was almost a let down, seeing Voldemorts empty husk. For all his posturing, he died an ordinary man.

After the War
Harry didn't return to Hogwarts for his seventh year. Instead, he went with Ron to become an Auror. The last seven years had prepared him for parts of the job, but he found himself constantly straining against the rules. He was used to doing things his own way, and counting on only his friends. With the Aurors there was a right way and a wrong way, and Harry always seemed to find himself doing things the wrong way. Honestly, if he hadn't been the “Savior” he probably would have been fired. They spent a great deal of time just tracking down and eliminating the Death Eaters that escaped. He also found himself testifying at the trial of Draco Malfoy. If you asked Harry why he did it he wouldn't have an answer for you. He didn't want to admit that he even knew himself. But he did. Deep down, he did.

It was hard, those first few years. Harry constantly expected the other shoe to drop, and really didn't know how to handle ordinary, average life. The dead haunted his dreams, and the stress of just getting by made him lash out, especially at Ginny. He didn’t blame her when she left, he all but pushed her out the door. He expected Ron and Hermione to give up on him too, but they never did.

The years at the Ministry were both a blessing and a curse. The rules and mundane day to dayness of it grounded him in a way he hadn’t known he’d needed, and he slowly began to acclimate to the lifestyle. His temper began to even out again, and he was slightly more well adjusted. The cases they solved made Harry feel like he might actually be making up for everything. But there were still cases they didn’t figure out, or worse, cases where they did everything they could and still lost lives. He added each name to the long list in his mind.

He kept running into Draco. At the memorials. At functions. Sometimes just on the street. While they stayed combative the rivalry had lost its edge, and before he knew it they were seeking each other out. They got engaged after their first date.

The wedding was stressful and beautiful and chaotic. Their friends didn't exactly get along, but everyone seemed to have a good time. The image of Draco's smiling face as he said I Do is what Harry uses as a Patrons memory.

Hid death was preventable. That was what still kept Harry up at night. It didn't need to happen. It shouldn't have happened. They'd been out for dinner, just a normal Thursday, when a spell meant for Harry hit him in the back. Harry hadn't even heard it coming. He'd only reacted after Draco slumped against him. They caught the man who did it, some idiot with a Voldemort obcession who'd seen his chance and taken it, but it didn't matter. Draco was dead, and it was Harry's fault.

He fell heavily into alcohol after that, barely managing to do anything at all. For nearly a year he just wallowed, his only contact with he outside world being Ron and Hermione. But slowly, very slowly, he began to come back to himself. He went back to work. He even smiled sometimes. But there isn't a day that goes by the he doesn't miss him.

player

Name: Sasha Age: 35 Timezone: PST Code: tessisamess