Final Entry

Thursday, August 12, 1999

Hermione gave me this journal three years ago. She said I should right in it everything that happens from here on in. Mostly I've used it for random lists that don't make any sense. Lists of Horcruxes left to find and destroy, those who have been killed at the hand of Voldemort and his followers, and finally my will, signed by Ron and Hermione. But now, seeing as this may be my last chance to write something in it, I'll make this worth everyone's while. Where do I begin? I guess I should start with the most important person in my life right now...

It was Ginny's birthday yesterday. She loved the gold charm bracelet I bought her. I gave her a charm for it too: a tiny golden Snitch. It was for our first kiss, after the Quidditch match that won Gryffindor the House Cup for the last time. It's hard to believe that she's eighteen. This is going to sound like something one of her parents would say, but just listen: It's so hard to believe that she's eighteen, because I can still remember the scared eleven-year-old girl who couldn't talk to me without blushing, who sent me a singing Valentine, who began to cry when I saved her from Voldemort all those years ago, and who loved me from day one. I don't know how I'll be able to say goodbye to her.

Hermione keeps telling me not to say goodbye--not to give up hope. But how can I stay positive when we're battling Voldemort tomorrow? Tomorrow: Friday, August 13^th...Friday the Thirteenth--the unluckiest day of the year--and we're going to try to kill Voldemort. I'm going to try to kill Voldemort.

Ron's been no help either. He agrees with Hermione. Of course, it's understandable, I suppose. They're dating, and in love. It would only make sense for him to side with her. He's my best mate though. You'd think that he'd side with me and say that I have every right to want to say goodbye to the ones I love. My best mate, the stupid git.

I'm not sure what else I should right about. What do you right about when you know that there might not be a tomorrow? I've already written out my will. Shares of my money are going to Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and Lupin and Tonks. My Firebolt goes straight to Ron--no questions asked. Hermione gets my books and most of my belongings. #12 Grimmauld Place goes to Mr and Mrs Weasley because I don't know whom else I would give a home to. Ginny...I don't even know what leave her. What do you leave to the person you love? I wish I had something that signified how wonderful and amazing and truly perfect she is, how perfect we could have been. To Ginny, I'm leaving R.A.B.'s locket. It's the only memento I have of our time together. And I want her to have it, even if she never understands its meaning.

We figured out who R.A.B. was, you know. Turns out, it was Sirius' brother, Regulus Alphard Black. The locket was at #12, and we were able to destroy it only a few months after Dumbledore died. We found all the Horcruxes in the past three years: the locket, Hufflepuff's cup, the diary (which we already had), Slytherin's ring (Thank you, Dumbledore), Nagini, and the final Horcrux--the one that we weren't sure what it was for a long time. The last Horcrux was hidden amongst the ruins of my parents' house at Godric's Hollow. It was the Gryffindor coat of arms. Yes, that's right. I, Harry James Potter, son of Lily and James Potter, am the final descendant of Godric Gryffindor. Great, one more thing to add to my title now. "The Chosen One, The Boy-Who-Lived, and The Heir of Gryffindor." That's just what I need. But only Ron and Hermione know that. And they're the only ones I plan on ever telling. Except maybe Ginny, when if we get married. If I live through all of this. It's hard to think about a future I might not have after tomorrow. But let me say this: I vow that if I live through tomorrow, if I live through killing Voldemort, then I will propose to Ginny, giving her my mother's engagement ring (which we found at #12 in Sirius' room, tucked in a box of my parents' old things) that was given to her by my father just after they left Hogwarts.

If that's not a reason to live, I don't know what is. I could easily say that I want to live just to prove that evil does not prevail over good. But that just sounds like a storybook ending, doesn't it? No, I'd rather prove to Voldemort one last time that because of love, because of that love I have for Ginny, I can destroy him. Dumbledore always told him that love was stronger than any sort of magic (that and music, but that's another story), and now it's time to show him that once and for all.

I feel like I've written a novel. Though I know it's only a few pages. I hate to admit that Hermione's right, because she hears it far too much as it is, but it's true--writing is good for the soul. But Shh... Don't let her hear that or I'll never hear the end of it. Maybe I could publish this journal after the war... Everyone would love to read the book on Harry Potter, The Boy-Who Lived. Slughorn's friends told me that at Slug Club. I have a better idea. I'll seal this journal for just five years. By then maybe there'll be a new hero. For now, this journal shall remain unopened and unread to anyone, including me. In five years, maybe no one will care about Harry Potter.

Sincerely yours until 2004,

The Boy-Who-Lived

The Chosen One

The Heir of Gryffindor

Harry James Potter