FicWad

Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter. I do own a sock though and if anyone is willing to trade the two just send me an e-mail.

Dear Journal,

My name is Harry Potter and I am a dead man. Not literally well at least not yet. Figuratively though I am a dead man and I have died many times in the course of my short life. At least once per year by my calculations sometimes more though like last year. Heh my Godfather dies and all I can think of his how I felt dead after him it all seems so macabre. I even began to contemplate suicide in order to become as I truly felt. Happiness became an alien notion to me. My friends no longer bring me the happiness that they once filled me with. In the beginning of our friendship I was to glad at finally having friends who cared for me and seemed like they would do anything for me to notice just who they were. I still remember toward the end of the year running into Ron and Hermione whispering quietly to each other. That is when I first realized they were just using me to propel themselves ahead in life. Ron wanted to know me in order for people to recognize him and Hermione thought I was a self-righteous prick with a saving people thing but she needed the connections she would gain from being my friend. No they do not make very good friends.

I suppose I should thank them however it was their conversation that night that opened my eyes to all the betrayal going on around me. The one I most vehemently wanted to deny and just pretend wasn't true was my idol and father figure the great Albus Dumbledore. Out of everyone his cut the deepest and I refused to believe it until I received the proof via a letter from Gringotts. The letter was long and full of legal mumbo jumbo but the gist of it was Dumbledore was bribing my account manager into neglecting his duties toward me and allowing Dumbledore and anyone he chose access to my accounts. That's the reason I didn't receive a bank statement for so many years. The good news is they provided me with a portkey to the bank that would activate at 9 am on the day of my birthday that would take me to the bank where I will be informed as to what my options are. That is still two days away though and I am waiting with equal amounts of anticipation and dread. On the one hand I will finally know what has been kept from me for so long but on the other hand it will make everything to real to ignore.

I will have to do something about the betrayal as to what that is I have no idea yet. All I can do is what I have been doing all summer reading over my old schoolbooks in order to attempt to prepare for the final battle with Tom. Not that I really want to read the books but the Dursley's are to afraid to make me do any chores and my jailors outside wont let me leave even for five minutes to get fresh air. Thus the only thing I can do is read and I think it has helped at least a little. I learned of many new spells and can't wait to try some of them out like one that creates stone golems I found in a book I had borrowed from the library. Unfortunately the spell takes a lot of power to use but if there is one thing I have it is raw magical power. The memory of myself letting go and destroying Dumbledore's office last year always cheers me and it doesn't fail now.

Remembering destroying his office makes me think of Sirius though and what led to his death. At first I was just empty I couldn't really feel anything inside. But when Dumbledore told of what he had done that year and how he avoided me the rage that I felt then is indescribable. I wanted to kill Dumbledore for what he'd done and all the pain he caused me by taking away my last real link to my parents. But I realized after I left his office that it wasn't entirely Dumbledore's fault that Sirius died. Many people contributed Snape, Myself and even Sirius all played apart in killing him. That realization is what brought me the closest to suicide. The soul crushing understanding that so many people were out to make sure I could not be happy. I do not even know why I am writing this down. Perhaps I think it will make me feel better about my life or help me make some unexpected realization I could use to improve myself or maybe I hope someone will find this and finally offer the help I always needed. But I see now that it won't do any of do any of those things. No one will help me save myself except myself and to do that requires actions not words. So to you journal I bid adieu I will not write again in a journal until I have become what I needed.

And with that final line Harry Potter tranquilly folded up the paper he was writing on took out a match and set aflame the article which held so many of his emotions. Watching as the acrid smoke began to waft off the paper and it began to char and blacken at the edges he slowly fanned the flames causing them to spread even faster until they engulfed the paper consuming it and leaving nothing but ashes across his desk which he then blew out the window into the night sky to be caught in the wind and scattered to the four corners of the globe. Viewing the dispersal of the ashes with nary a blink Harry Potter calmly pulled out a watch and saw the numbers change to 12 00 am on July 30 he had one more day before his life changed and whether it changed better or for worse he would spend the last day enjoying the peace that he knew would not last.

Authors note read review and enjoy if anyone reviews I will continue otherwise this will become a oneshot.