Holes in His Heart

Harry sits alone in his room, shaking. How could he? How could he? He read the letter through again.

Harry,

I'm sorry, but I have decided that Percy's right. You're dangerous, out of control. I want to break up with you. I will see you in Hogwarts, though don't make a scene. Don't approach me, it'll just make things worse. Goodbye, this is my last ever letter to you Harry. Don't reply.

Ron

He wasn't out of control. So he'd kind of destroyed Dumbledore's office. And he'd trashed the dormitories. And got into a fight with Dean, that just could have been started by him. But so what? He'd had a very bad year. When he first came to Hogwarts, he changed. He was no longer 'the weird kid with the sellotaped glasses', or Dudley's punchbag, he was Harry, Harry Potter, godson, Harry Potter who had friends, Harry Potter, Quidditch star, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Harry Potter, godson. Sirius was his best friend, father, brother, all in one. Why was life so bloody unfair? He lost his parents when he was one, for goodness sake. He suffered the grief of that all his life. When Sirius came on the scene, he'd felt fully happy once more. He had a parent, he had a godfather that would do anything for him. Why was life so cruel that it took him away just two years later? It was like he'd lost his parents all over again. He had really.

Harry Potter, who had friends. Before, in Privet Drive, he was miserable, with no friends, but he was used to it. When Harry and Hermione became his friends, he was happier than he'd ever been before. He'd seen a point in existing, he had a laugh, he had people to help him in his quests (and homework!), people to play Chess with. Now Hermione had been pulled out of Hogwarts by her parents, and Ron had broken up with him. Second thing taken away from him. Second hole in his heart.

Then there's Harry Potter, Quidditch star. He loved Quidditch. The exhilaration of flight, the excitement of spotting the Snitch and shooting off after it. The happiness of feeling those fluttering wings against his fingers. There was no word for how happy he felt when they won the House Cup, being lifted onto people's shoulders, holding the cup in the air. That was more than happiness, that was... ecstasy, delirium, it was amazing. Then that toad of a woman snatched that away from him. Dumbledore tried to reverse it, but he wasn't powerful enough. Harry had been left with the ban for his whole life.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. That was very hard to get used to at first, but once he had, it was nice, most of the time. Except when he was being pestered for autographs by the Creeveys, or being stared at. But in a weird way, it was part of him. Now nearly everyone thought he was off his rocker, out of his tree, bonkers, and attention seeking. Most people hated him. Even after it was revealed that Voldemort had indeed come back, they didn't apologise. They blamed it on him. The Daily Prophet published an article about how he had helped Voldemort's return, given him the blood needed in the first place, the given him the Prophecy in the Ministry, mentioned how he even went into his body. They twisted truths, lied and took truths out. Now most of the wizarding world hated him.

There was nothing left in this world for him. Everything he was had been taken away from him. This was the final straw. He was going to follow his parents, all three of them. He clutched his wand and pointed it to his own chest. He took a deep breath.

"Avada Kedavra." A flash of green light, and life left the tormented body of Harry Potter.

Somewhere far beyond, in another world, another dimension, four people were happy, smiling, reunited again, never to be unhappy again.